“You mean like my parents lying to me?”
“Among other things,” she says. “But you’re opening your eyes now. You’re… trying.”
“I need Cael to forgive me.”
“It’s going to take time, baby. Men in his line of work take loyaltyveryseriously. Add on the fact that Caelian is a lone wolf by nature and rarely attaches himself to anyone. But hemarriedyou—you were supposed to beitfor him. Then you ran away.”
My chest aches hearing my mistake repeated back to me. Ms. Poitier’s not doing it out of malicious intent, but it’s no easier to listen to.
I slump on the kitchen stool just taking it in.
“Don’t pout, honey,” Ms. Poitier says. She pats my hand. “He’ll come around. Most likely.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s in love with you. Contrary to what men want you to believe, they don’t get over a woman they’re truly in love with so easily.”
The heavy footsteps of several men pound the hallway floor outside the kitchen.
Ms. Poitier and I abandon our conversation at once and go seek out the cause for the commotion.
“He’s back!” yells Johnny, one of Caelian’s members of security. “But it’s not looking good.”
I move to follow him. “What’s not looking good?”
“Mr. C. He’s in pretty bad shape.”
ELEVEN
Caelian
“Get the fuck off me!”I bark at my men.
They’ve surrounded me in an attempt to throw my arms over their shoulders and help me cross the pathway. I’m limping on my own. Blood leaks from several gashes that mar my face. I’ve got lumps and bumps all over. My head throbs in intense pain.
I’ve been in better shape.
If not for the couple that found me in the alleyway, I would’ve probably gone unnoticed all night and died by the morning. They’d snuck out of the club hoping for a quickie in the alley only to find a beaten man lying in a puddle.
I was conscious enough to convince them not to call 911. I had them call my men instead.
A man like me doesn’t deal with regular hospitals. I don’t get taken into ERs.
All my medical care is private. At the courtesy of doctors like Tulio and the Swiss medical clinic I was seeing for my debilitating condition.
Going to the ER most people off the street go to would open up too many questions. The authorities could get involved.
Few things could be worse for the lifestyle I lead.
My men stick by my side regardless. They escort me up the steps leading into my manor. Dr. Tulio is already waiting for me inside the foyer, dressed in a hideous striped robe that falls to his ankles. He’s got his glasses pushed onto his face and a head of rumpled hair, as if even he’s not sure what to expect.
But I’m looking beyond him.
Just a few feet off hover Ms. Poitier and my ballerina.
Worry fills Nevaeh’s beautiful face. Her full mouth’s shaped into a frown, and her brows draw close. She’s dressed in outside clothes, something I’d address immediately if I weren’t beaten to shit. It’ll have to be a matter for later.
I drag my gaze away from hers and pretend I don’t notice she’s around. A silent, subtle snub that no one else is paying attention to but her. Sadness dims her face even more, though she remains where she is.
