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“Lexy?”
Lifting my hand, I wipe away my fallen tears. “After. When I woke up. No one else knows other than me and Dr. Julia. Not even Jordin. It was Dr. Julia who recommended the therapist. Today was my first appointment.”
“Jesus, Lexy. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m going to find the bastards who did this to you. I promise you that. We all will.”
He reaches for me, pulling me into his side to comfort me, and I let him.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he continues, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.
“Me too,” I cry.
“I know you’re already talking to a therapist, but I’m here if you need a friendly face.”
“You know. I used to think you were just a walking sex addict, but you’ve really surprised me. Underneath that rough exterior is a beating heart,” I tease playfully, tapping my fingers on his shirt, breathing in his fresh linen scent.
He dips his chin, laughing. “Oh, I’m still a walking sex addict. That will never change. But like I said. We all have a part to play. I just happen to be a cuddly teddy bear underneath the façade.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Myeyescastoverthe vast gardens on the estate.
Eight long days have passed since I last saw Lexy. Since I felt the warm heat of her skin on my fingertips. Since she got so drunk afterward that she passed out on the beach. Colton sends daily updates, and every night, I watch her sleep on the camera installed in her room, but it’s never enough.
My cock is rock hard, remembering how good she felt when I fucked her hard against the sink. I’ve been a patient man, allowing her the space she needed, but my patience is wearing real fucking thin. When I get back home, I’ll be making a few things crystal clear. My bed is where she belongs. She can go willingly or force my hand, bending her to my will until she relents. It’s up to her.
A persistent knock on my grandfather’s office door yanks me away from my thoughts, and I reluctantly tear my gaze from the breath-taking view of the estate grounds.
Saying goodbye to this mansion was bittersweet. I now cherish the long summers Jackson and I had here as children, listening to a lifetime of memories, secrets, and stories that had shaped my family’s tumultuous history. It was a place where my grandfather had wielded power, conducted his affairs, and left his indelible mark on our legacy. Every time I set foot on its pristine grounds, with its imposing columns and manicured walled gardens, it feels like a return to my true home.
“Come in,” I call out to the person on the other side.
My attention shifts from the window to the individual who enters the room.
“That is all of it, sir. All that’s left is this room and three bedrooms on the first floor,” Jeff, my grandfather’s dedicated housekeeper, reports.
His words bring the stark reality of the situation back to my mind, and sadness creeps into my chest. The house that once had many memories is now covered in white dust sheets.
“Good. Carry on with the rooms except the one I’m in,” I instruct.
“Yes, sir,” Jeff nods and exits the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I return to the window, lost in thought, reality seeping in that my grandfather is really gone and that this will be the last time I am in this house.
My phone buzzes on the desk, jolting me from my reflections, and in my haste to pick it up, I accidentally knock over a pen. Cursing under my breath, I leaned down to retrieve it, but it’s wedged deep under the desk.
I crouch down, my hands feeling around in the dimly lit space, but the desk is a behemoth of dark teak wood, measuring five and a half feet in length and seven feet in width. Its solid wood legs, each nearly two feet wide, make the search even more challenging.
Frustrated, I pick up my phone and hit the flashlight function. As my fingers dance across the soft carpet, a glint of silver catches my eye.
What is that?
I go deeper into the desk, focusing the light directly on it.
What the hell?
A keyhole, cleverly hidden in the right leg of the desk. Had I not been searching for that stubborn pen, I might have never stumbled upon it, and the desk would have sat here for god knows how long. Even then, would it ever have been discovered?
Interest peaked; I searched the drawers for a key, knowing deep down I’d never find it. You don’t go to these lengths to hide your closely guarded secrets and leave a key for anyone to see.
