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Chapter Twenty-Five

The night held promise…or so I thought. After lengthy debate upon lengthy debate with myself, I’d come to a decision. It was clear that waiting him out wasn’t working––the stubborn ox had no intention of coming to his senses any time soon. And I was afraid of what remained of us when he finally did get around to it. The situation had become untenable. So the decision was an easy one. My pride could suffer the hit. My heart, however, could not survive the loss.

The Armani Privé gown I had chosen was an elegant, body contouring sheath that fastened over one shoulder. Sexy and understated, all I could hope for was that it was enough to catch my husband’s attention. The earrings he would recognize immediately––the pave diamond ones from JAR he had given me on our first real date. The ones that reminded me of our wisteria tree…ours…funny how I thought of it that way now.

“Have fun,” Bear teased. I glanced behind me, ready to reward his sarcasm with an eye roll, and found him unapologetically leaning his big body against the Mercedes with his arms crossed in front, his biceps bulging beneath the sleeves of his tux.

I wasn’t surprised to find him parked in front of the clinic when I came down from the flat. I’d tried a million times to argue that since there was no longer any threat to Sebastian’s life, his babysitting duties were obsolete. To no avail. It was impossible to budge him.

“Don’t get too comfy,” I deadpanned.

“I won’t.”

By the time I was walking up the steps of the Grand Théâter de Genève, the event was well under way. All the streets around the theater were congested four rows deep with luxury cars and limousines, the steps of the theater littered with paparazzi. The security personnel outnumbered the guests. With the security measures being so tight, it took me forty minutes to get inside. I was almost certain someone royal was in attendance.

Inside, it was a crush. Bodies spanned the foyer from wall to wall. It seemed most of Europe’s elite and some of America’s were in town for the event. I looked around dazed by all the glitz and glamour. You hear and read about people living this kind of lifestyle, you just don’t really understand it until you’ve experienced it––at least, I didn’t. For once, reality far eclipsed my imagination.

I was disappointed not to find Sebastian waiting for me, although nursing my wounded ego would have to happen later. At the moment, I needed to find the man I loved, the only man for me––regardless of everything that had transpired. I pushed the thought aside and elbowed my way through the crowd on a mission, hustling up the marble stairs to the main room.

In spite of its size, a cloud of humidity from all the body heat billowed up, the scent of flowers and expensive perfumes riding on it. Gathering up the train of my dress, I walked around, scanning all the tall, blonde heads in search of the man in question. When I finally spotted him across the room, my stomach dropped, the sight of him wreaking havoc on my nerves.

So handsome. He had a crowd of people surrounding him and still looked so alone.

Wearing a tux that hugged every perfect angle on his body, he stood in the midst of a large group of people begging his favors, none whom I recognized. He was the calm in the middle of the storm––his expression placid, detached. To the untrained eye, he wore all that power effortlessly. Only a ruse, even if it was a beautiful one.

One hand clutched a glass of alcohol while Caroline Pruitt occupied the other, hanging on his arm as if she paid rent. Reluctantly, I had to agree that they made a striking image. Her black hair to his blonde, her blue eyes to his golden ones. They belonged–– they were bred for this circus, while I was just a visitor, an outsider, and would forever be thought of as such. She threw her head back and laughed at something one of the other guests said. Then leaning into Sebastian, she whispered something in his ear. Nothing registered on his face, not even a twitch. The brooding intensity only added to his allure.

By some sixth sense, his head turned in my direction and our eyes collided. Neither one of us looked away for a very long time. His eyes were haunted. For a moment I saw past the shutters, where the pain and fear lived. Somewhere, in there, he still loved me. I knew it in my bones. It seemed like he was stepping away from them, leaning towards me, but the moment passed just as quickly and everything slammed shut again.

I had no pride left where this man was concerned. If he wasn’t going to meet me half way then I was prepared to cover the entire figurative and literal distance between us. Taking a fortifying breath, I made my way over to him, bracing myself for his inevitable chilly reception. His eyes tracked every step I took to cross the room. He didn’t blink once, his lids heavy while his gaze roamed over my body and up to my face. When I reached him, he stepped away from the people gathered around him, each of whom gave me the once over; not a single smile to be found anywhere.

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