“He… what? Oh fuck, that bastard,” Damien gasps in shock, obviously unaware until this moment that he wasn’t the only one my father fucked.
Ced sinks speechless onto the other chair. “Holy shit, what kind of sick game is this?” he asks, not really expecting an answer.
I don’t have time for this.
I pull my phone out of my pocket again to reach Amelia, but again only voicemail picks up.
“Damn it, she’s not answering,” I curse quietly, and Damien perks up.
“Who? Amelia? Where is she?” He sounds alarmed, only realizing now that she’s not here.
“She wanted to go to Perlington House, get some stuff, and then come here. She doesn’t know about all this shit yet,” I answer, utterly exhausted, but Damien turns pale.
“You have to go there immediately. If her brother finds her… oh fuck, damn it.” He curses, and groans as he sits back down, but I’m wide awake and tense to the point of snapping.
“If who gets his hands on her? What the fuck do you mean?” My eyes narrow to slits, and I walk toward him threateningly, boiling inside and barely able to hold back.
“I… she begged me not to say anything, and I thought once, just once, I could be a good friend. Henry abuses her. He hits her. If he finds her there…” He doesn’t need to say more.
The scars, all her scars come to mind, and I feel ice cold. My heart cramps fiercely because now I’m scared. I feel raw, unfiltered fear.
I’m already in the elevator, Ced beside me, when I turn back to Damien once more.
“Wait here for Lizzy. When she arrives, drive to Perlington House. After that, I don’t want to see you ever again.” He flinches at my words, but I don’t care.
I have only one priority now: Goldilocks.
Never have I reached my bike so quickly. Ced follows silently, too stunned to speak and heavy with worry. We don’t need to say a word.
If he touched her, he’s dead.
I drive to Perlington House crazy fast, and soon after, I am running up the steps and pounding on the door. One of the servants opens it, and I push past him without a word.
“Amelia,” I shout through the entire hall, but of course, there’s no answer.
Fuck.
Where? Where is she?
My throat tightens with fear for my wife, and I’m about to lose it when suddenly a servant rushes over, eyes wide and pale.
“I found her, Your Highness, and called the paramedics. She… I don’t know…”
“Where?” I snap at her because I don’t have time for any unnecessary detail.
Ambulance.
Fuck.
Adrenaline shoots wildly through my veins when she says “Study,” and I run, run for my wife’s life.
“Amelia,” I call once more, skidding to a stop in front of the room, but again no answer.
My heart pounds into my throat, and fuck, no, it stops. I can’t breathe anymore because all the air is forced from my lungs at the sight of her.
“Goldilocks, babe, no.”
Within a second I kneel beside her, but damn it, I don’t know where to touch her. She’s covered in blood, her face completelysmashed, but that’s nothing compared to the patch of skin I see where her hoodie has ridden up. It’s already turning dark purple.
