Chapter 16
A shriek and a sudden shove sent me stumbling out of the bed, my skull cracking against something hard.
"Shit," I hissed, clutching the back of my head as pain flared. My fingers came away wet. I stared at the red smearing my skin and groaned. "Fuck."
"Oh God—" Sloane's voice trembled. I looked up to see her kneeling on the bed, hand over her mouth, horror in her eyes. "I'm so sorry!" She scrambled down beside me, fingers fluttering at my head as if she could undo it.
"Did you just push me out of bed?" I let out a weak chuckle, trying to breathe past the sting.
"I didn't mean to," she protested, frantic. "I didn't know you were beside me—I just woke up and you were hugging me! It startled me." She sprang to her feet, searching the room.
I watched her rush to the console, yank open a drawer, and pull out the first-aid kit.
"You're the one who hugged me in your sleep last night," I murmured, glancing at the blood on my fingers, curling into myself, chin resting on my knees.
"Shut up." She was already kneeling in front of me again, pressing cotton firmly against my head.
I stayed still, letting her work in silence. "Is it... huge? Or...?"
"It's not huge," she said, replacing the bloodied cotton with a fresh one, her brows furrowed in concentration.
"But it's slightly deep." She pressed firmer, lips tugging in frustration.
"Why does it take so long for something this small to stop bleeding?
" she muttered under her breath, as though scolding the wound itself.
I reached up, gently prying her hand away. My fingers brushed hers before I took the cotton ball myself. "It'll stop eventually," I murmured, forcing a faint smile as I leaned against the bedside table. "Though... I feel a little dizzy." A weak laugh slipped out, brittle at the edges.
"Should I take you to a clinic? Or the ER?" She stood immediately, worry flashing across her face.
I caught her hand before she could move. "Calm down. I'm fine." The words came out steadier than I felt. My head throbbed mercilessly, a heavy drumbeat as I shut my eyes. I exhaled hard, my grip on the cotton faltering as my strength waned.
I heard her shift, then felt warmth settle beside me.
When I opened my eyes again, Sloane was there, sliding an arm around me.
She pulled me gently against her, guiding my head until it rested against her chest. Her body was firm and soft all at once, steady in a way I wasn't. She lowered her chin slightly, her breath ghosting over my hair.
For a moment, I just stayed there, listening—her heartbeat, quick but sure, filling the quiet like a rhythm I'd longed for.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she whispered, just loud enough for me to catch, reaching for fresh cotton to press gently to the wound.
A hum escaped me as I let her hold me. "Sol..."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"I'm sorry," I whispered, teeth sinking into my lip. "For being so insensitive last time we fought. I went overboard. I didn't think about how my words would cut you too. I was selfish. I let my anger speak instead of considering what you felt."
A soft, almost bitter laugh escaped her as she reached for antiseptic and dabbed at my wound. "You know apologies don't change anything, Aurora."
"I know." My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. "You still deserve to hear them. You're my wife. I should have respected you—asked, listened—before letting fury decide what I thought of you."
She didn't answer, just continued tending to me in silence. My head pulsed with pain. I winced, eyes shutting against the spinning world.
"Sol..." My voice was faint, trembling. "If you could... give me another chance... please."
I let my words trail off into silence. No response came from Sloane, and at some point, the heaviness in my head dragged me under.
When I opened my eyes again, the ceiling greeted me. I blinked, disoriented. Slowly, I sat up, feet brushing the floor. My hand reached instinctively to the back of my skull. The swollen tenderness made me wince.
"...It wasn't a dream," I whispered.
"You're awake."
Her voice pulled me toward the doorway. Sloane entered, a tailored skirt hugging her hips, silk blouse tucked neatly. She walked with practiced elegance, stopping before me. Cool fingers tilted my chin up.
"Hmm. You look fine now." Her smile was small, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"What... happened?" My voice was hoarse.
"You passed out while I was tending your wound." She pointed at my head lightly. "So sorry about that. Really." She patted my cheek as though I were a child.
I blinked at her, then at her outfit. "Were you... going somewhere?"
She stepped back, moved to the vanity. Through the mirror, she studied me while fastening gold earrings. A spritz of perfume clung to her throat.
"I have a meeting with a business partner. Expansion outside Europe," she said, standing gracefully. Then, tilting her head, "Oh, and Mr. Silva asked if his investment in your company will still push through."
My throat worked as I looked down at my hands. "If you don't want to, just say so. I'll negotiate with him."
"I actually..." I drew a breath, lifting my gaze to her. "I read the minutes Celeste gave me. The proposal too." My chest tightened.
She arched a brow, waiting.
"And..." I exhaled. "I'm considering his investment. I could set a meeting with him."
Sloane chuckled under her breath, folding her arms. "Uh-huh. Considering you thought he was..." Her eyes sharpened, pinning me. "What, exactly? My lover?" The word dripped like poison, daring me to flinch.
I straightened, throat bobbing. "I—Sol—"
But she laughed softly, dismissively, waving me off. "I'll let Silva know you're considering it." Her heels clicked against the floor as she moved to the door. "I'm heading out."
Panic jolted me. I shot forward, slamming the door shut before she could step through. The thud made her whirl on me, startled.
"Sol," I rasped, standing too close, my pulse hammering. "About what I said earlier... about another chance—"
"Oh, I know you're just playing with me. Don't worry, I'm not taking it seri—"
I cut her off with a kiss. Desperate. Hungry. My hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into me.
"Ro," she mumbled against my mouth, breaking away with ragged breaths. "Ro, wait—what the hell are you doing?" Her eyes searched mine, anger and confusion colliding. "If this is some twisted game, drop it."
I fell to my knees before her, clutching her hand. "Sol, please. Another chance. Let's start over. Let me make it up to you. If it doesn't work, I'll walk away. I'll sign the divorce. I'll give you everything."
Her eyes narrowed, voice hard. "Can you stop this? We're not teenagers anymore. I don't have time for theatrics." She tried to pull free, turning for the door. "I need to go."
"Sol, I love you."
She froze at the doorsteps. The words seemed to hang between us, heavier than silence. Slowly, she turned, her eyes unreadable. "What did you just say?"
I pushed to my feet, stepping toward her. "Sol... I love you. I always have."
Her gaze locked with mine, softening for just an instant—before her hand cracked across my cheek. The sting bloomed hot.
"Do you think this is funny, Ro?" Her voice shook, brittle with fury. "You—casually saying that to me now—when twelve years ago you admitted you only used me because I was good in bed?"
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My eyes stayed locked on the coffee in front of me, hands clasped over my thigh as I listened to Catherine. My head still throbbed from the morning's impact, but I needed to focus—make progress on anything that could clear the embezzlement case. It had been dragging on for months.
"Since we have approval to check Monsieur Bianchi's computer, the authorities can trace it and possibly retrieve all deleted emails and under-the-table transactions, right?" I asked, glancing out the café window—pausing as I saw Sloane's car pull into a spot.
I forced my attention back to Catherine, acting like I hadn't seen her.
She nodded. "Tech experts are coordinating to recover all possible emails and deleted communications.
The judge has also requested Bianchi's personal electronics, and his bank accounts are frozen to prevent further unaccounted transactions. "
I exhaled, straightening in my chair as I heard muffled voices nearby. One of them—without a doubt—was Sloane. Our eyes met as she and the woman she arrived with chose a table across from us. Her smile faltered, and she raised a brow before looking back at her companion. Business partner, perhaps?
I shrugged off the thought. "How long do you think it will take to recover everything?"
Catherine sipped her coffee and set it down, her eyes fixed on me. "They're asking for a week. If anything is recovered, it can be presented at the trial next month."
I hummed in agreement. "The trial's been dragging on too long, and it's not just a trivial sum involved.
" I crossed one leg over the other, leaning back.
"Make sure all charges are filed properly.
The losses are enough to cover operations for the next five years.
" I clicked my tongue. "With the news circulating, the haute couture expansion in Switzerland may be put on hold, but I've already identified a better location. "
Catherine gave a small smile and opened another portfolio. "It's fortunate that Duvall Capital Group's investment in DeLacroix Couture and Luxury House is contributing to capital growth. We're already at breakeven, and your net worth alone still ranks you in the top two among Monaco's elite."
"Do you think I could integrate my other company into the empire?" I leaned forward. "But I don't want my original holdings to become part of the family legacy."
She tilted her head and shook it. "Your assets are yours, Ms. Aurora. Company assets remain with the company. At this pace, in a month or two, you'll surpass breakeven comfortably."
"It would be even better if we could recover some of the embezzled money—if it's still hidden in Bianchi's accounts," she added.
I tapped my fingers against my arm, nodding.
"Understood," I said, glancing briefly at Sloane.
She was giggling quietly. I let out a sigh and turned my attention back to my untouched coffee.
"While the investigation continues and the trial drags on, I'll focus on managing the company.
Keep me updated if there's any need for me to intervene. "
"Of course, Ms. Aurora," Catherine replied.
Catherine shut the portfolio and placed it in her bag. I stood, and so did she. Just as I turned around, a shattering sound followed by a hot splash made me yelp. Sharp, burning pain seared my arm, and I clutched it, staring at the damage. Catherine rushed to my side, checking my arm.
"Oh gosh," Sloane's voice interrupted as she bumped into me, nearly making me stumble, before she hurried to the woman in front of me. "Are you alright?" she asked.
I blinked at them, incredulous. Seriously? I scoffed at the two of them. Sloane glanced at me but said nothing. "I'm the one who got scalded, and the first person you ask is the woman who spilled it?" I clicked my tongue and walked out, leaving them behind.
"Ms. Aurora," Catherine called after me, following closely. She handed me a handkerchief and gestured toward the outdoor tables. As she dabbed at the burn, the redness was still obvious. "Let me take you to the ER for proper treatment," she said, wrapping the handkerchief carefully around my arm.
I didn't protest. I was too tired. Sloane hadn't even asked if I was okay. I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly as I slid into my car.
Catherine and I convoyed to the nearest ER.
Once inside, I sat on the hospital bed as the doctor examined the burn, now a growing red patch.
"Looks like a first-degree burn, with small patches edging toward superficial second-degree," the doctor said, studying my arm.
"We'll clean it, apply sterile dressing, and monitor carefully.
Avoid scratching or exposing it. Infection is your main concern. "
I nodded as the nurse dabbed the area with a cool sterile cloth, wincing at the sting. I watched closely as my arm was wrapped in gauze, sterile and white against the reddened skin. My phone buzzed, but I ignored it, letting the sterile lights and the burn's pain occupy me.
What hurt more—the burn, or the fact that Sloane hadn't even checked on me? I didn't know, and it didn't matter. I could only sit still, arm elevated, listening to the medical team's instructions and soaking in the cool relief from the soothing cream applied afterward.
Once the treatment was complete, Catherine helped me process the bills, her expression filled with concern. "Thanks for staying with me," I said, offering a small smile.
She shook her head, dismissive but caring. "No worries at all, Ms. Aurora. But are you sure you can drive back? I can give you a ride."
"I'm fine. It's just a burn—I can manage. Thank you for helping," I said, bowing slightly as we reached the parking lot. "I'll go ahead, Ms. Catherine. Keep me updated about the case."
She nodded, smiling. "Safe drive home, Ms. Aurora."
"You too," I replied, sliding into my car. I honked at her before pulling out, heading home.
My thoughts drifted back to Sloane. Is your business partner really more important than me? That you'd worry about them and not your own wife?
I laughed bitterly at my own words. If she wouldn't slap me, she would just ignore me entirely, as if my existence were invisible.