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With my anger forgotten and the threat becoming more real, I ask, “St. Monarch’s?”
Papa shakes his head, and instead of answering me, he says, “You will do as Max says. I’m sorry your quality of life is suffering because of this dangerous matter, but I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He comes to hug me, and his tone is softer. “I love you, Camille. I can’t lose you.”
And I certainly don’t want to die.
Hugging Papa, I take comfort in the embrace, and it’s only then the full impact of the night hits – the embarrassing situation in the restroom and the photos. It means the person who wants to kill me could really have done so if he wanted.
My body shudders, and tears sting my eyes. I hold Papa tighter, needing more comfort.
Instinctively, my father senses my distress, and he starts to rub his hand up and down my back. “I’m sorry,mon amour. I wish things didn’t have to be this way. You can be strong for me, right?”
I nod, and pulling back, I do my best to smile so I don’t add to Papa’s stress.
Too late, you already threw a fit because you couldn’t kiss a stupid guy you have no feelings for.
Feeling defeated, I let out a sigh. “I’ll try harder to be accommodating to Max.”
“Thank you.” Papa gives me a loving smile and brushes his hand over my hair like he used to do when I was a little girl. “I just want to keep you safe.”
“I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
My father shakes his head. “I understand this is all unexpected and hard for you to deal with. We’ll get through this like we’ve gotten through everything else.”
My smile grows wider. “I’ll let you continue with your work.”
Papa turns his gaze to Max. “Please keep her safe.”
“I will.”
The two words carry a world of danger, and it makes me wonder who Max really is.
I hug Papa again before leaving the mansion with Max by my side.
With the threat looming over my head, I feel like holing up in my penthouse and not setting foot outside until this madness has been dealt with.
The drive back to my apartment building is filled with a heavy silence. When Max parks the Bugatti and I climb out, I feel the urge to apologize for what happened tonight.
The words burn on the tip of my tongue as we step into the elevator, and it makes the confined space feel even smaller.
Or maybe it feels smaller because Max seems so much bigger after everything my father said.
Who is this man? What makes him the best man to protect me?
An unsettling feeling tightens my stomach, and I glance at him.
He looks like a Russian God with intense eyes and a face carved from stone. I don’t think the man has ever cracked a smile. He’s domineering, broody, and honestly, scary as hell.
But he’s here to protect me, and at the end of the day, it’s all that matters.
The elevator doors slide open, and Max murmurs, “Wait here.”
I watch as he searches the apartment, and only when he gives me the clear do I walk to the living room. “Can we talk?”
He nods as he comes down the stairs.
My eyes follow him while I kick off my high heels, and taking a seat on the couch, I fold my legs beneath me and lean against the armrest.
I’m exhausted, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until we’ve cleared the air.
