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“Oh, my God,” I mouth to myself.
“Where’s Ruby?”
I stare at him, unable to get past my shock. What the fuck have I done? What the fuck have I done?
“Layla! Where’s Ruby?”
I shook off my shock and tried to keep my composure. He couldn’t know what I’d seen.
“She’s asleep. She had an asthma attack earlier, but I got it under control.”
“Oh, God!” he rushes to her sleeping figure on the chair and touches a hand to her cheek. “I should’ve given you the inhaler before I left home. Why didn’t you ask me for it before I left?”
“Wait, are you blaming me?”
“You’re the nanny. It’s your job to ask!” His voice is angry, but he doesn’t raise it not to wake Ruby.
I wanted to tell him that he’s Ruby’s father and it was his job to care enough to give me the inhaler, but I hold my tongue.
His voice brings back memories I hadn’t tied to him. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me, and suddenly, I need to get out. I can’t be here. Not right now. Not after what I’d just seen.
“Uh, I just remembered. I need to go outside to rearrange the stars! ”
“Layla, what are—"
I don’t wait for his response before rushing out the door into the night. The cool night air sends a chill down my back when I remember I’d forgotten to pick up my coat. I run anyway, deciding not to go back.
Not tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll be back, but not tonight—the words ring in my head: whiskey, masks, and chandelier. I shudder. Oh, no.
The man from the party, the man in the black, angular mask that resembles the legendary Zorro’s mask, the man I’d given myself to, was none other than Tristan Jackson.
I've slept with the man I swore to take revenge on.
Chapter six
Tristan
“You didn’t come home early last night, Daddy.”
The words come out of her mouth immediately she opens her eyes and sees me. Her hair frames her face delicately as she looks at me from my bed. My legs start hurting from running for God knows how long on the treadmill, but I enjoy the pain. I had carried her into my room after Layla abruptly left last night.
Layla looked like she’d seen a ghost last night. She’d run off without saying goodbye, and if I had to guess, I’d say Ruby’s asthma attack shocked her more than she could’ve expected. I remember the first time it’d happened—Ruby, gasping and fighting for breath. It was the most scared I’d ever been. Even in the throes of war, I remained unflinching, but this... the thought of Ruby dying shook me to the core.
I’ll call Layla later.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” I slow down to a walking pace on the treadmill. “Something came up.”
I want to promise her that it won’t happen again, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep. I hold the words inside me.
“I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared.” Her face contorts into a pinched expression like she was reliving her panic.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, pumpkin.”
There isn’t blame in her eyes, but I feel guilty. It doesn’t matter if she knows it; I let her down. Again.
“She took care of me.” Ruby gets off the bed and begins looking around the room. “We were making a cake. We mixed the flour, the eggs, the chocolate... Then I couldn’t breathe.”
She raises a pillow, then another, her gaze intensely searching.
