Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
Zane
T he minute Nathalie says Stella’s name, fury drains the blood from my face and a static buzzes in my ears so loudly I don’t have a clue what Mel’s saying. That bitch, that fucking whore, just destroyed weeks’ worth of planning to keep Stella underground.
Max is quiet.
Denton looks just as pissed as I am, but he hides it better.
Quinn sits and chews on her lip deep in thought, a frown crinkling her forehead.
We all know what Nathalie did—no one has to say it aloud.
Mel tries to calm me down, but I shake her off every time she tries to touch me.
Stella turns the camera off and their voices stop filling Max’s sitting room through the Bluetooth speakers connected to Mel’s laptop. There’s nothing to do now but wait for them to come back to the hotel.
“Zane, go to bed,” Mel orders me.
“The fuck I will.”
“It was an accident. She didn’t realize she even said it.”
“I don’t give a shit. We worked hard on Stella’s death. All the pain she’s been through...” I pace until they open the door of Max’s suite.
Stella looks incredible—an exquisite angel in the front, a delectable devil in the back, the material dripping just above the crack of her ass. She’s wearing high heels, and her legs look long and slim. I want to bend her tight little body over the couch, kiss her bare back, and slowly sink into her. I need every ounce of willpower I can muster to ignore her, and I focus on Nathalie, the elegant whore, the woman who let me do whatever I wanted to her because she hoped I’d fall in love.
I don’t believe Mel. Nathalie’s jealous and I think she said Stella’s name on purpose.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I bark.
Nat freezes and fear shoots into her eyes. Her pupils dilate. No one wants me mad.
“What? What did I do?” Her lips tremble.
“You said her name, you stupid bitch.”
“Hey,” Mel says, pressing her hand against my chest. “That’s enough. We don’t say shit like that, even if someone’s made a serious mistake. Cool off on the balcony. Now.”
This time I do what she says. I’m afraid if I have to look at Nathalie for one more second I’ll tear her to bloody shreds.
“What’s he talking about?” Nathalie cries to Mel.
I sit on a patio chair, and holding my head in my hands, struggle to breathe and regain my composure.
It’s not only Nathalie that upset me. It’s Stella’s and my conversation at the airport, too. Things aren’t going to work between us, and I was a fool to think they would. Do you know how difficult it is to love someone more than anything in the world and know it’s not enough? That no matter how hard you wish, a life together isn’t possible? Why in the hell would Stella want me? Marry me? I’ve always been a fuckup, and I will always be a fuckup.
The only thing I can do is fix this so no matter where she chooses to live her life, she can do it without having to look over her shoulder.
I lean against the chair’s cushion. The barges drift by, cargo containers packed so tightly on some it’s amazing they don’t sink. That’s a perfect metaphor for my life. No matter how much is dumped on me, I still have to keep going. I don’t have time to drown.
Through the cracked door I hear Mel say, “You said Stella’s name before you left Huxley’s room. Do you think by then he was screaming loud enough he didn’t hear you? I heard it over the microphone, but you were standing right next to her.”
I inhale one last lungful of sticky air and let myself inside. Nat’s sitting on the loveseat, crying. Mel’s playing the video again, and I sit next to her at the conference table but watch Stella instead. Her skin is a pasty white, but she’s trying to look like Nathalie’s mistake isn’t bothering her. Quinn doesn’t help, murmuring something into her ear.
We listen to the end of the video, and all I can hope is Huxley couldn’t hear Nathalie over his own pitiful shrieks.
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Mel says finally, “but you have to be careful, Nathalie. Another slip-up like that could cost us the whole operation.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I still want to wrap my hands around Nathalie’s throat, but Mel hasn’t been wrong since I hired her. If she thinks no harm has been done, I’ll do my best to let it go.
Nat slinks out of the room, her shoulders hunched and tears wetting her cheeks.
I should go after her and apologize, but I don’t have it in me. She’s not the one I want to console.
Holding Stella to me, she presses her face into my chest. She’s shivering, and I splay my hands over her bare back. God, her skin is so soft. I could stand like this forever.
“I think it will be okay,” Mel says again. “Let Stella go to bed, and we’ll go over the footage. There are some good stills here, and we can decide which ones we’ll use at Ash’s fundraiser.”
I kiss the top of Stella’s head, and she looks at me, forcing herself to smile. “We knew this would be dangerous,” she says.
“I know.” I brush my lips over hers. “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Quinn follows her out of Max’s suite.
He isn’t interested in watching the video and asks Zarah if she wants to go upstairs. I’m sorry she saw me angry, and she quickly agrees, glancing at me and jumping off the couch she and Ingrid are sharing. Sitting on the rooftop at night has turned into one of her favorite activities. Maybe she feels freer up there.
No one knows better than me how easy it is to feel trapped.
I give Ingrid permission to go to bed, make a cup of coffee, and settle next to Mel. She goes through the video frame by frame and listens to the audio. It’s amazing how a tiny device no larger than a nickel can provide such clear picture and sound.
Recordings taken without both party’s consent are inadmissible in court as evidence and anything Huxley said would be thrown out, but we won’t need it. It’s only a means to an end.
Nathalie did a good job, and I feel terrible Huxley put his hands on her. I couldn’t stop it from happening, but she went into it knowing that. She took one for the team, and I’m grateful Mel didn’t let me rip into her.
She saves several screenshots of Huxley. “Too bad we can’t release these now.”
We were going to leak them to the gossip sites, but we decided to reveal everything at Ash’s fundraiser. I can’t wait to expose the dirtbag in public. We’ll be doing a lot more than that, and I’m looking forward to tearing Ash and his father down then, too. My life was ruined at a party, it seems only apt that it happens to them. The Blacks’ dynasty will collapse to nothing but rubble at their feet, and I’ll drink champagne and smile.
Yesterday, on his personal social media page, Ash made the grand announcement the gala will be held next week, and everyone in King’s Crossing exploded with excitement. Who will be invited? Who won’t? Who can afford the two million dollar donation?
They’ll be paying for a lot more than a meal.
At the end of the video, Mel nods in satisfaction. She’s not worried about Nathalie’s slip, and I try not to think it was intentional. Nat has a lot riding on this, too.
Mel and Denton go to bed, but separately. Something shifted there, and they spend a lot of time together. Maybe they’re just friends and they enjoy each other’s company. I don’t know what Denton’s done since I bought him out. He might have been cut off from the world, too, and he appreciates simple conversation like Zarah and Stella. Whatever’s going on, I like it. She’s tamped down the anger he’s carried since I met him at Max’s apartment, and he’s more even-tempered and relaxed.
Out of sorts, I go up to the roof and catch Max and Zarah kissing. I don’t think she’s ready for that kind of intimacy and I open my mouth to say something, but he leans away and holding her face between his hands, rubs his nose over hers. She laughs in contentment and I decide against saying anything. Like Stella, she’s been deprived of affection for many years, and as long as Max isn’t hurting her, I need to remember that. He points to something across the city, and she rests her head on his shoulder.
I clear my throat and they both turn. Zarah smiles and motions me over, and I stand next to her near the railing. Storm clouds are drifting in, and the air is thick and full of electricity. Ash’s hotel across the Renegade is lit up, and a party is in full swing in the ballroom at the top. I pass a pleasant hour talking to Zarah and Max, but when large drops of rain begin to hit the roof, they decide to go back downstairs.
Finding shelter under the bar’s awning, I linger and watch the jagged lightning slash the sky in two.
I’m avoiding my empty room.
I know Stella didn’t choose to sleep with me tonight, and I’d rather be alone up here than in bed without her.
On the morning Max and Stella are to fly out, rain slides down the windows of the Honeymoon Suite.
I’ve already thrown up twice.
I thought I could handle this, but I can’t. I stand in the elevator, sweat dripping down my back and a panic attack clawing at my chest. I’m the last to meet everyone in the lobby.
Max is quivering with anticipation. He’s finally investigating what had drawn him to us in the first place, and he talks to Mel a mile a minute, his face animated.
Zarah looks how I feel. Uncertain. Sick to her stomach. She’s fighting back tears.
“I can’t let her do this.” The words rip out of my mouth and everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me.
“What do you mean?” Mel demands, shoving her hands on her hips. “We need them there.”
“Max can go alone.”
Zarah whimpers.
Mel zeroes in on her. “Oh.”
Stella’s gaze meets mine, and she drags in a breath. “Zane.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.” I’m bawling like a fucking baby, and I can’t stop. I turn and round a corner, and I lean against the wall near a men’s restroom. Pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes, I hope to keep the flood in.
It doesn’t work.
Stella slips into my arms and I cry into her hair. How do I tell her I can’t let her go on a plane? How do I tell her I haven’t flown since my parents’ crash? How do I tell her I love her so much I’ll be catatonic until she comes back? How do I tell her if she dies in a crash, I’d as soon take my own life than live without her?
It turns out I don’t have to say anything at all.
“I’ll stay here. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. None of us did.”
Her sacrifice shames me. Mel wanted her to go and experience new things, and she’s willing to give that up. I can’t let her do that. She’s already lost five years of her life for me. Because of me. I’m a selfish bastard and always have been, but if I want to keep Stella, I have to let her go.
I wipe my face and clear my throat. “No. I...I want you to go. It’s my own fault I haven’t dealt with this properly.”
She pulls away, and I can’t help but appreciate how pretty she looks in her disguise. She’s wearing a white and green summer dress that makes her green eyes pop thanks to the contacts Mel ordered and her red hair shines like a brand new penny. She’s sexy, and I want to keep her here, keep her safe, chain her to my bed and make love to her twenty-four hours a day.
She’s excited to travel.
I can’t let her know how much that hurts me. How I’m not enough.
“Are you sure?” she asks, rubbing my chest.
“I’m sure. Just promise you’ll be careful. I can’t be in this world without you in it,” I rasp, my voice close to breaking like my heart already is.
“Don’t talk like that. Zarah needs you, and you have to finish this for your parents. Max and I will get the recording, and we’ll put Clayton in prison where he belongs. I promise.”
I jerk her against me and kiss her, bruising her lips. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hug her so tightly her spine cracks. I grip her ass and mold my body to hers, trying so hard to tell her how much I love her in a single kiss.
Reluctantly, I put her down. I need to let them leave or they’ll be late.
“I love you, Stella.” Such simple, complicated words.
“I love you, too.” She pauses. “Zane, I know I go back and forth, hot and cold, but...”
Preparing to hear bad news, I tense. She’s made her decision that we go our separate ways.
“...I can’t live without you, either.” She pushes her lips to mine, hard, and hurries around the corner.
I blow out a breath. Maybe I haven’t ruined things. Maybe I still have a chance.
I step into the lobby, and Max is cuddling Zarah, smoothing her hair, his lips pressed to her cheek.
She looks a little better, too. Maybe the distance will be good for her. Max is a great guy and is becoming a close friend, but I don’t like how serious they turned so fast.
The taxi driver shoves Max’s and Stella’s suitcases into the trunk, and she lifts a hand in goodbye. They ordered a taxi because that’s what normal people do. Douglas wanted to drive them, but they need to look as inconspicuous as possible.
They drive away and we can’t see the taxi anymore, but Zarah and I stand on the sidewalk long after it’s gone. We hold hands, drawing strength from each other.
“They’ll be okay,” she says.
“I hope so.” I wish I could be as optimistic as she is.
I ask her to rest, and she agrees to nap, Ingrid keeping watch over her. In the Honeymoon Suite, I hide under the covers in bed like a kid, shaking, until Mel pokes her head into my room and tells me they landed safely.