“She entered it as evidence for that stupid injunction.”
Ben’s eyes went round. He took out his phone and did some internet sleuthing. “Charles Alexander is a junior associate for the wolves.”
“Of course he is.”
They found Philip waiting on the front steps for them at home. “Well, what have you to say about this?” Adam thrust the summons into Philip’s chest.
They made their way inside while Philip read. With a deep and impassioned sigh, he set the letter aside. “I’ve been trying to warn you.”
Adam vaguely remembered Philip showing up with Gemma one afternoon weeks ago. He’d been in his climbing gear. He could use a climb right now.
They’d said something about the will. Now he understood why his uncle had been such a pest. If he’d listened, looking past the rumpled suit and the naivety, he would have saved himself quite the headache. “Lay it out for me, Philip. Where do we stand?”
Philip’s usually ruddy cheeks paled. “I’m afraid we’ve no tenants left. The last of them moved out on Monday.” He lifted his palms. “I tried to stop them, offered incentives, even, but they were quite set on leaving. Almost as if someone were paying them to vacate the building.”
Adam ran his thumb along his jaw. Like Bella. She’d been upset today—looking like she would refuse the check he offered. She’d all but pushed him out the door. Loss was like wearing anchors around your feet: it dragged you down and slowed your progress. Bella wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t even come for a nap! His eyes drifted around the place he’d grown up in, and he hated it here. The castle was cold stone. It wasn’t a home, not without Bella in it.
Bella had given the wolves the will. He sucked in through his teeth. Had that been her plan all along? The injunction was ages ago, long before they’d spent hours together in the study, long before she’d given him a soft look. Had she come here in an effort to undo him? What did he really know about her, other than that she was Martin’s daughter? He should have done his research, but she’d entered his life when he was weak, and he’d let her. The idea that she’d been a part of this treachery was too much.
He put a fist over his heart. He’d never opened up to someone the way he opened up to Bella, never let his heart become involved. Decades of keeping it locked away had left it tender, and she’d walked all over it.
Without her, there wasn’t a point in being here. She was the warmth that filled his castle; she was the light that cast out shadows; she was the reason for it all. Even the law held no interest for him without her to debate it with. He could fight the case, but what was he fighting for? Her words rang through his head. Money wasn’t a cure; it just was. And without Bella, there was no reason to fight for any of this. He stood and made his way to the door.
“What’s the plan, Adam?” asked Philip.
“Let them have it. Let them take it all.” He left without looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bella
“Don’t know what all the fuss is for,” Dad grumped as Mary, the morning nurse with thinning hair, checked his IV. Mary clicked a few keys, her eyes on the screen. Bella couldn’t remember a time when she’d looked either of them in the eye. Maybe when she was checking Dad’s pupils. She didn’t take any nonsense, but she was good at helping Dad heal, so Bella loved her.
“Everything checks out. I’ll be back in a couple hours. Press the button if you need me.” Mary left, not looking back.
“It’s like I’m a dog in a kennel.” Dad glared after his least-favorite nurse.
Bella rolled the lap table over his bed and lifted the lid on lunch—a turkey sandwich on wheat with a side salad. “Looks good.” She smiled in an effort to get his spirits up, even though her stomach churned at the thought of eating anything. Food wasn’t as appealing as it once had been; neither was studying for the bar or discussing a legal thriller. She was officially in a funk, and she had Adam to thank for it. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. He hadn’t come back. The phone was relentless with its silence.
She wanted him here. She wanted to lay her hand on his chest, to feel the solid strength of him under her fingertips. More often than not, she mentally disappeared into his study, where she could lean against his body, feel him breathe, and just be.
The gold dress was a glittery reminder of what could have been. She’d finally taken it off the hook in the bathroom and stuffed it into a hospital bag for personal belongings. No doubt Gucci would ban her for life if they found out. As if she could afford Gucci.
Dad took a large bit of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. He’d slept well last night—for the first time since they’d gotten here. As much as Bella appreciated the medications, oxygen, and monitors that helped him heal, a good night’s rest did wonders. She wanted him home, in his own bed, where he could sleep easily for many nights to come.
“Bella, what are the tears for?” Dad set his sandwich on his plate and motioned for her to come closer.
She sniggered as she wiped under her eyes and smiled so he’d know she wasn’t losing it. “You keep trying to make me an orphan.”
Dad shook his head as he took her hand between his. His hands had always seemed so big in comparison, but today they were the perfect size for comforting her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I know.” She sat on the side of his bed. “You can’t seem to help yourself.”
He chuckled, the sound wonderfully clear of the scary sound of fluid in his chest. “If I could, I would. I have a lot of life left to live.”
“I hope so.”
A comfortable silence fell over them.
