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I woke again to a dark room. The pain was a dull ache, and the relief was enormous.
I found a clean white shirt and black trousers from the duffel bag and put it on.
Room service provided me breakfast even though it was barely past six a.m. and I didn’t realize until having a full stomach how low on nutrition and energy I’d been. Plugging my cell into the nearest outlet for charging, I waited until the screen lit up, and froze. Kaylie’s number filled the display. Five missed calls. I stared at the screen, torn between calling her back and blocking the number.
Images of her filled my mind, no matter how many blockers I put up. Her ocean blue eyes. Her raven black hair. Her skin, so soft and white…fuck. I wasn’t supposed to think of her. But how could I not when my skin tingled in memory of her delicate fingers all over me?
A scream tore from my throat as I tossed the phone to the bed to not have to see the reminder of her in my hand. She was so close. So fucking close. One tap, and I could hear her voice again. I craved it like a man craved drugs. She was my fucking drug. One week with her and I was hooked. Without her, the withdrawal killed me. What I wouldn’t give for one more day with her. One more time to make it right. To let her touch me the way we both desired. I played the fucking hero, suddenly caring about morals. Rights and wrongs. Now the regret burned deep inside, and there was no going back.
She was gone. My eyes landed on the phone. Not really, though. Not yet…
“I’m going to die.”
Her words ripped through my soul, abruptly throwing me back into the harsh reality. She was nothing but a painful reminder of how fragile life was. How unpredictable. Letting her go now was not only necessary, it was the only thing I could do to spare myself another heartbreak.
I didn’t know her. One week with her was nothing. So why did she leave me empty and hollow in her absence? Why was it so hard to keep from reaching for that cell? I swore off women. Love. Swore to never let myself feel anything again. And I didn’t. I was fucking dead inside. She changed it, breathed life into my heart and soul when I least expected it. Now I couldn’t go back to being numb, no matter how hard I tried.
Fuck it!Fuck her. I pushed off the bed, snatched up the phone and charger, and stuffed it all into the bag. I couldn’t do this. Sitting around thinking of her was ridiculous. I had a life waiting for me back home. A job. Johnny and all the shit he’d do to keep me busy. That was what I needed. Not some privileged little princess to screw my life further.
But first, I had another dreaded place to be. And it was long fucking overdue.
Before I slipped into the car left outside on the street, something hard shoved against my back. “Shut up and listen,” a voice hissed, and I had no choice but to obey. Not unless I wanted another bullet to finish the job.
Mr. X strolled into the dining room the next day when I was waiting for my breakfast. Another person accompanied him. A young man, possibly not much older than myself. He was handsome, I’d give him that. Hair as black as mine, and a set of dark eyes that stared daggers at me as he took his seat at the long mahogany table. He, too, was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, and if I hadn’t been raised in a household like this, I would have been amazed by the formality of one simple meal.
“Miss Remington,” Mr. X greeted in a cheerful voice. “I want you to meet my son, Alex.”
Realization hit. They looked alike. The younger guy softer, despite the hostility in his gaze as he looked at me.
Mr. X stood next to his son, slapping his back as if to remind him of his manners.
The guy, Alex, cleared his throat and flashed me a stiff smile. “Nice to meet you,” he said, and I got the impression he wasn’t the least bit impressed. His cold expression made me bristle. I didn’t want to be here anymore than he seemed to like my presence. But it didn’t make sense. He had no reason to dislike me. He never even met me.
“I suggest you two get to know each other,” Mr. X stated as Lisa placed plates and silverware in front of us.
“Your meal will be ready in a moment,” she informed Alex, then she nodded toward me and smiled. “Miss.” She excused herself and hurried from the room. I looked across the long table with numerous empty chairs lining the sides, to the archway she disappeared through.
The kitchen.
I would have preferred eating there. Skipping the formalities and sneaking into the kitchen to snack with the staff was not only forbidden—it was fun. The food tasted better perched on a kitchen counter while surrounded by friendly faces and actual smiles. I learned recipes with Anna, one of my father’s cooks. She was from Sweden, and her food was delicious. She let me cook. She treated me like a friend. One of the few I had…
Mr. X left with no other explanation, again leaving me no time to mention my medicine. I listened to his footsteps leave, keeping my eyes locked on the empty plate in front of me.
“I have no interest in you,” Alex muttered. “You should go back to wherever you came from.”
My head jerked up, whipping around to stare. “Excuse me?” I gaped at him, then scoffed. “I’m not here willingly, so don’t flatter yourself.”
Confusion swept over his face. “But Father…” he paused as Lisa came back with coffee and bread. When she was gone, he went on, and his voice changed from defensive to perplexed. “You don’t know?”
Something in me clenched. The uneasy feeling rushed back, making my skin prickle from discomfort. “Know what?” I nearly whispered.
He laughed. A cold, humorless sound that had me recoil.
“Our wedding is in two weeks.”
I blinked at him. Sure I heard it wrong. He couldn’t possibly have said… The disgusted look on his face made me gulp. I heard him correctly.
The hell?
