Chapter 32
I’ve never believed myself to be a violent person, but every time I have to tolerate Eric’s presence—knowing his evil intentions and that he’s the reason I have to sneak around to be with the one I love—I’m enraged. I’d very much like to bash his head against the nearest hard surface.
He hasn’t kept his mouth shut for one damn minute since we boarded his family jet. All I can think about is how it’ll all be over this weekend. I can deal with him for a few more days and then move on.
Even now, I can still feel Hunter’s lips on mine from this morning—so passionate, every nibble and his tongue devouring mine felt like a stamp of ownership. It was so damn hot, followed by an even more fervent lovemaking session that only made me crave more. It’s never enough with him. This need only seems to grow, intensifying with each passing day. He’s my other half.
I itch to text him and assure him I am fine. Knowing him, he must be worrying about not being here next to me, my protective shield against anything that might harm me.
When we land, Eric places his hand on my back, leading me toward the waiting car. Inside, I scoot forward, taking the seat farthest away from him, practically climbing up the side.
“We’re engaged. I should be able to touch you however I’d like,” he grumbles, tone ringing with impatience.
“I am a human being, not an object.”
“Yes, of course. I just love you so much, Bailey.”
That takes me so much by surprise that my brows shoot to my hairline. I doubt he knows what love even is. But whatever feelings he harbors, they are not reciprocated.
“I thought this weekend away from your friends and him would bring us closer together,” he says, sounding hopeful.
Nothing ever could, but I let him believe his own delusion.
Meanwhile, I must stay alert. What we know for sure is Felix will make his move over the course of the weekend.
The hotel is in midtown London, a majestic and imposing old building. All I can think of is Hunter though.
During one of our long nightly talks, I asked him where he feels most at home, and his answer melted me— it’s you , he had said. I feel the same.
Reaching the front desk, he tells the receptionist his name. After a quick greeting, she slides only one key across the counter toward him.
“I requested two rooms,” I say, trying to compose myself while he grins as if he’s being cute.
“I upgraded us to the penthouse suite. Only the best for my fiancée,” he replies smugly.
If Hunter finds this out, he’s going to kill him sooner. That knowledge trumps my own self-preservation instinct.
Ignoring him, I ask for another room, but after the clerk glances at him, she says apologetically, “I’m afraid we don’t have any more rooms available.”
He looks at me with puppy dog eyes that do nothing but enrage me even more. “Come on. Give me a chance.”
He wants to test my patience? So be it. I can defend myself. If he crosses a line, he’s going to get at least a few broken bones.
The concierge accompanies us, and having him as a buffer helps tame my frayed nerves. In the elevator, my phone vibrates in my pocket, but I can’t assure my friends I’m fine.
The moment we’re inside the suite, I notice roses everywhere, decorating the elegant, cream space.
Without asking, Eric pulls me to his side and snaps a photo of us.
“I need to use the restroom,” I grit and dash away, locking the door behind me.
I type, I’m good in the group chat before my phone rings.
“We’re on our way. What’s your room number?” Hunter shoots off the question.
“Don’t get mad.”
“That’s a sure way to make me antsy, kitten.”
“He booked us the penthouse.”
Silence falls, followed by expletives. “I know who is not returning to the States.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I trust no one more than you, but I don’t trust that sneaky bastard.”
“I’ve got this. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
Washing my hands, I give my reflection a nod, then walk out. Eric is leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door like a leech, waiting to suck me dry.
I summon peaceful and calm vibes, but they’re out of reach, and I snap.
“Let’s get one thing straight. This is not going to work if you constantly invade my personal space, lurking around me. And if you even think of overstepping, I’ll leave.”
“Who were you talking to in there?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It was him, wasn’t it?” His voice turns ice cold, but I stand my ground.
“And if it were, what would you do?”
We’re face-to-face, and I am ready for the confrontation when he steps back. “You need to rest. I blame the jet lag for your irrational behavior.”
Inhaling deeply to collect myself, I stride inside the first room to my right. Inside the small bedroom, I’m about to lock the door when he bursts through.
“You should get used to us sleeping in the same bed. I didn’t book this penthouse so we can sleep in different rooms.”
I jab my finger toward the door. “Get out.”
“How much longer will you play hard to get? I basically own you.”
My entire body rocks with a wave of fury. “Oh, Eric. You have no idea how dumb you sound.”
He slams the door shut, and I lock it.
Needing a bit of fresh air, I slip out onto the balcony just as my phone vibrates with a text.
Look to your right.
There he is—my man, dressed in all black, looking like a sculpture brought to life.
I already know what he’s planning long before he does it, so I take a step back. In a smooth motion, he jumps from his balcony to mine. I wrap myself around him as he holds me tight—my lovely cocoon.
He kisses the top of my head. “What did he say?”
I shake my head, not wanting to waste our precious seconds together talking about him. “It’s not important.”
“Indulge me.”
That deep, husky voice of his is my kryptonite.
Lifting my chin, my eyes find his. “That he owns me. But I belong entirely to someone else.”
“Perfect answer. Kitten, I’ll make him regret ever looking at you,” he says with such sharp determination that I almost feel sorry for Eric.
“Anything on Felix?”
“Not yet. But he has to be nearby. He wouldn’t have wanted you here otherwise. I will not let you out of my sight.”
A yawn parts my lips, and he gently brushes his knuckles along my cheeks. I lean into his touch, drawing strength from him.
“Sleep a bit,” he says before leading me to the bed and tucking me in. Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, he checks the door two more times, and only afterward does he leave just as stealthily as he appeared.
Knowing Hunter is there to watch over me, I drift off to sleep, only to be jolted awake by a sharp rapping of knocks, tearing me from my dream of him and souring my mood.
We always grow more impatient the closer we get to our goal. Life passes us by—not because we’re aging, but because we rush through it, failing to realize we’re speeding toward the final destination and have forgotten to live along the way.
Nothing makes that clearer than a life-or-death situation.
I’m going to savor mine. I’ll embrace every new day and live to the fullest, creating a million memories along the way.
“We have a dinner reservation,” Eric announces, once again disturbing some much-needed quiet and peace of mind.
“I’ll be out shortly,” I say, annoyance threaded through my clipped tone.
After showering, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dressed in a beige cashmere cardigan over a silk top and matching plissé skirt, I apply a bit of mascara, blush, and lipstick and slip into my kitten heels. I refuse to call these dates, but keeping up appearances is imperative. The day the charade ends can’t come soon enough.
Eric waits for me outside my room, staring at my window the moment I open the door. For a second, his eyes narrow as if he could see Hunter on the other side.
“I’m ready.”
“Let’s go.” The bite in his voice softens when he adds, “You look beautiful dressed up for me.”
My patience is being tested to its limits, so much so I’m beginning to wonder about my ability to resist reacting on impulse. Maybe that’s my secret superpower.
Once we’re in the car, he asks, “Did you sleep well?”
“I did.”
He nudges my side. “Maybe tonight you’ll let me in your bed.”
I roll my eyes at him and remain silent throughout the drive.
“I was thinking tomorrow we could explore more of the city. Then I’ll take you to a masked ball. Important people will be attending, and I need to mingle and represent my family.”
Bingo. That’s where it all will go down.
While the three-star Michelin restaurant is incredible, and the food tastes spectacular, I just want to return to the hotel and be done with today.
My gut tells me that if something happens, it will happen tomorrow. The masks will help conceal Felix, but they’ll also shield my friends.
Twenty-four hours. By this time tomorrow, we’ll either win or lose.
***
The elegant green mermaid dress flows down my body, its deep plunging neckline accentuating every curve. It’s a spectacular dress, but the reminder that Eric gifted it to me to wear tonight dampens its shine. I secure the feathery, black and gold filigree mask over my face, adding a touch of mystery and sophistication.
When Eric sees me, he swallows hard. “You look beautiful.”
But it’s not his reaction I crave. It’s Hunter’s. Soon, he’ll see me, and how I wish it were him by my side.
I squirm in my seat, unable to find comfort as the limousine takes us to the venue. Sweat beads on my palms, and I rub them against the fabric covering my thighs, trying to ease my nerves. If we make one wrong move, everything we’ve worked for will be lost.
Trying to stay positive, I focus on the freedom waiting for us once tonight is over. It’s so close, I can almost reach out and grab it. Bravery steels my spine, and I drag in a lungful of air, brushing my fingers against my ear to check that the comm is in place.
After a short drive out of London, the car comes to a stop in front of a small castle surrounded by a vast garden.
Several men, boasting Felix’s tattoo of the Family crest, stand guard at the entrance. The moment we’re let inside, the opulence of this place leaves me in awe. Art decorates the walls, and golden statues stand like sentinels on each side of the curved, marbled double staircase. A long carpet slides over the steps in red decadence.
Above, high ceilings hold chandeliers dripping like a thousand crystals. French windows line the walls, blending seamlessly with the marble and cement.
But I can’t afford to be distracted. I scan the crowd in the ballroom, searching for Hunter. There’s no sign of Felix yet, which does nothing to ease my nerves. My presence should have drawn him out. He wants me here, so where is he hiding?
I barely register it when Eric plucks a champagne flute from a passing server and hands it to me. I sip from it as we venture further inside.
My eyes land on my friends, even though they’ve put a lot into their disguises. The girls have concealed their natural hair with wigs and wear contact lenses that mask their usual eye colors. We nod at each other stealthily behind our glasses.
It should have been me behind the screens tonight, but Mia oversees the operation instead. This time, she’ll be the one who guides us while the rest of us are out here.
I pick out my man with ease. Hunter looks regal in his tuxedo, wearing a black panther mask. A soft smile tugs at my lips, finding that endearing.
When our eyes lock, the world fades away; it’s only us circling each other in the orbit of our love.
Eric disrupts our moment, leading me to the dance floor. As he spins me around, my vision blurs, lightheadedness washing over me. Needing a moment, my focus dwindling, I say, “I’m going to refresh myself.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” he says, not concealing his smirk.
When I go to the ladies’ room, I splatter my face with a bit of cold water, getting weaker by the moment. It’s the nerves , I tell myself, refusing to accept what I already know.
When the door to the right stall opens, I get the irrefutable confirmation. It’s him. Felix.
I step back, but the room spins, making me motion sick. My body doesn’t work as it should. My drink was spiked. Neither the realization nor the sheer panic is enough to pull me out of this funk.
I open my mouth to warn my friends through my comm, but no sound comes out. My legs buckle, and I lose my footing, barely grabbing the sink’s edge to keep from falling on my face.
“By the time you wake up, they will be dead anyway. But you’ll have me, daughter,” he says, cold voice laced with delight.
An unrelenting murkiness swallows the no at the tip of my tongue.
The last thing on my mind is Hunter before everything turns black.