AllFreeNovel
Share Us
27
I wantto shake it off. I want to be able to look in a mirror andknow, without question, that this is a lie. That this is another of Oliver Prince’s poisons, insidiously sinking into my skin.
But when I do make a detour into the employee bathroom and look in the mirror? I don’t see the certainty I’m looking for.
I see fear.
I see doubt.
I see a truth I’ve tried to bury and ignore for so long.
I’m shaking as I reach into my bag and pull out the crumpled pages—the printout of the medical exam. A lump forms in my throat, my pulse thudding slowly and hard through my veins.
It’s a private doctor’s exam of Noel, from the very night of—or rather, the very early morning after—the fire. It lists burns, and scarring. It lists smoke inhalation, and the possible long-term damage from inhaled chemical agents.
It makes me want to throw up.
I stare at it with trembling hands, wanting so badly to see that it’s a fake—photoshopped, or something. I even Google the Doctor Khafi listed on the report, hoping to God the search comes up empty.
Of course, it doesn’t. He’s a renowned general practitioner for the elite. There’s a picture on his website of him smiling next to the Duchess of Cambridge, for fuck’s sake.
I shake. Uncontrollable tremor, rattling me to my core. I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the sides of the sink tightly as I try and center, and focus. But I can’t.
It’s not fury. It’s not a numbness. It’s like a sort of haunted emptiness.
I stuff the papers back into my bag, splash some water on my face, and then take a slow, deep breath.
I need answers. Not from Oliver, because as nice as that little performance was, he’s a viper. He has his own aims and goals here. And not from Noel, either, because…
Because right now, I can’t even let my mind think of him.
These are two titans, locked in a raging battle, and I’m stuck between them weathering collateral damage from both sides. What I need is—
I blink. My hand slides back into my bag, pulling my phone out. I’m still shaking as I scroll through my photos, numbing myself to the ones of France—of Noel and me. Until finally, I land on the one I’m looking for.
A photo of a photo.
Specifically, the one hanging in the corner of Noel’s office, of the Kings and Villains. I swallow as my eyes slide over the younger faces of men who now rule with iron fists and no consequences.
The man I called dad is dead. Noel is out. Oliver is out. Braddock McCreed is an option, I suppose, but he knows me. Or, he knew me. That makes him impartial, and he could lie to try and protect me. That and the last time I saw him, he looked like he had an ax to grind with Noel, which could very well mean he’s on Oliver’s “side.”
Moving on with the photo is Kristoff. But I don’t know where to even begin with reaching out to him. The others’ names come back to me in fragments as I remember that meeting in Oliver’s office. Lars Ulstäd? I have no idea who he even is, or if he’s even alive. The other one, a huge, built, darkly handsome man Oliver referred to as “dangerous looking” is Maddox Rook… whoever the hell that might be.
I swallow as my eyes land on the final face from more than twenty years ago.
Adrian Cross.
I don’t know him. But I know of him.Everyoneknows who Adrian Cross is. He’s like a sexy, smug, modern-day Robin Hood. At best, that is.
At worst, he’s one of if notthemost notorious gangster in all of England.
He also might have answers. He might beexactlythe person I need who can look me in the eye and tell me if I’m crazy for believing the bullshit Oliver’s just laid at my feet, or if I’m in danger.
I swallow as I slip the phone back into my bag, turn, and slip out of the bathroom. Out in the not so busy bar, I plaster on a calm, chilled-out face. Harry grins, passing me a whiskey on the rocks as I slip under the bar to the customer side.
For a second, my mask of calmness and smiles becomes real, when Gus and Jack come rushing over to hug me. Gus is sure to show me his petition for me to run for Prime Minister, taped to the wall by the pool table. They both insist on buying me my next round, and I grin as I hug them both again.
And for one minute, everything feels “normal” again. I’m back in a place before corporate espionage. Before horrible, buried truths came snarling out of their graves to drag me under. Before the news, before the scandals, before my past was ripped open and laid out naked for the world to see.
