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“Then leave.” My voice is firm, the order clear. I step away from her, the air suddenly free of her sweet scent. How I wish I could bottle her fragrance and smell it whenever I please. For now, I’ll live without it. But my mind has been made up.
She’s mine.
And I’m not letting her go without a fight.
“I’m not going to just walk away from you, Cass. I came here—” She shakes her head. “I just need you to know I—”
“I said leave.” Schooling my features, I sip my coffee, arching a brow at her, which only makes her tip her chin toward me. Defiance shimmers in her eyes, but she doesn’t sass me, she doesn’t offer a retort. For now, she leaves, and my chest aches as I watch her walk out.
Hours later, as the sun sets, I glance up and stretch. I’ve not been focused on work all day because all I can think about is Kaly. I should be working on the figures for Thorne Industries, but each time I look at the screen, I pull up photos of Kalyn. Her career is doing well; she’s the face of her own clothing line, along with movies that have sold out in box offices worldwide. However, there is still something niggling at me.
It’s not anger, not anymore. No, there’s more to her story than meets the eye. With Harris looking into why she’s back, and researching the fiancé, I should be able to relax, but I can’t.
An idea pops into my head, and I pick up the phone, hitting dial on my assistant’s number before I can rethink this.
“Mr. Thorne, how can I help?”
I shouldn’t do this. It’s not my game to play, but there’s only one way I’m going to get Kalyn alone. We need to talk. The party wasn’t the time or place to hash out the past, but the forest behind Thorne Manor is. “I need one red rose on my desk in the next hour.”
“I… uhm… okay, I can do that.” Confusion in her voice is clear, but I hang up because I don’t need to explain myself. I’ll have the burnt rose sent to Kaly, a sign that I want to talk, an invite for her to meet me, or not. It will ultimately be her choice, and there are no guarantees that she will come. But deep down, my intuition tells me she’ll be there.
15
Kalyn
The bedroom door whooshes open as I set down my makeup and glance at Paulo. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms folded, and the look on his face is nothing short of rage.
“What’s wrong?” I push to my feet, wondering if I need to placate him or to run and hide. When he gets like this, there’s no talking to him, but if I can say something to calm him down, then perhaps it will save me a world of hurt.
“This arrived for you,” he sneers, unfolding his arms; I notice a box in his hand that has a black ribbon tied around it. The shimmery silk looks expensive, and when he hands me the box, I tug at the bow. Lifting the lid, I have a feeling I know what I’ll find, and just like I thought, lying on a soft satin interior is the burnt red rose.
The fragile bud looks like it’s been incinerated, but strangely enough, it’s still kept its shape. The stem is long, free from leaves, but there is a pattern of thorns that twist around the thin, blackened stalk.
“Who’s sent you this, darling?”
There’s no card, but I know exactly where this came from. However, I cannot tell Paulo, because he’ll only lose his mind, and when he does that, I have no choice but to obey.
“I’m not sure,” I lie, but I don’t meet his eyes. This man has been around me for the better part of two years, and when I’m lying, it’s as if he can sniff me out. He knows when I’m sad, happy, and when I’m telling him lies to hide something. I turn for my dresser, setting the box down gently, taking in the burnt invitation.
“If I find out you’re lying to me, Kalyn,” Paulo says from behind me, his large body looming over mine. The heat of his chest at my back, sending shockwaves of fear skittering down my spine, “You know it will be dangerous for you.” The threat is clear.
Without another word, he steps away, leaving me shivering, as he shuts the bedroom door behind him. Alone again, I take a long, deep breath and stare down at the rose. Cassian wants to meet; perhaps he’ll finally exact his revenge on me. I thought for sure he would’ve done something the night of the party, in front of everyone, including my fiancé, but then again, he never was one for public displays; he’d rather find his pleasure alone, in the dark.
