Chapter 22
22
Cecely
My legs feel unsteady as I slip away from Claudius’ office, my pulse pounding in my ears. I don’t stop moving. I can’t. I hurry back to my room, shutting the door behind me like it might somehow keep the truth out. But it’s already inside me, looping on repeat.
I try to make sense of what I heard, trying not to jump to conclusions. But how the hell can I not?
It sounds like Claudius is bringing my sperm donor here. To this island.
Why?
I only caught the tail end of the conversation, only heard Claudius’ voice, but it was enough. Enough to leave my stomach twisting.
Is my sperm donor bringing his family here? My mother? A fresh wave of nausea rolls through me. Each thought makes me sick for a different reason. He’s gone through so much trouble to make sure our paths never crossed. He’s also gone through equal trouble to see my mother and never me.
Why now? What changed?
My breath shudders, my nails digging into my palms as I try to steady myself. There’s only one answer. Something bad must have happened.
My mind races back to the empty grave. Does that have anything to do with this? Does Agnes have answers that might help me?
I’m about to rush for the door when a soft sound stops me. I freeze. Slowly, I round the bed, my heart lodging in my throat as I spot Polina sitting on the floor.
Crap. How long has she been here? She’s curled into herself, small and fragile, her wide eyes staring at something I can’t see.
“Hi,” I say gently, keeping my voice soft.
She doesn’t move for a second. Then, her gaze lifts to mine.
“Scared.”
The one word shatters me.
I kneel beside her, my pulse hammering. “Do you know where Leyla is?”
Polina nods. Without another word, she stands, reaching out. I take her small, trembling hand, letting her lead me through the hallways. The house feels colder, darker than it did before. The corridors twist into a maze of shadows, the silence too thick, too watchful. Then, finally, we stop at a door, her grip tightening around my fingers.
“Leyla,” I call out, tapping lightly on the wood. “Are you in there?”
A pause. Then the door swings open. Leyla stands there, her expression shifting from surprise to mild irritation as she sees me and Polina standing in the hallway.
“What do you want?”
I exhale, glancing down at Polina, still clutching my hand. “I found her in my room. She said she’s scared.”
Leyla huffs, folding her arms. “That’s the only word she knows.”
That breaks my heart. This poor girl…
Leyla shifts her attention to Polina, speaking in a low, steady tone. Polina responds softly, voice barely above a whisper.
Leyla exhales sharply, her eyes flicking back to me, unimpressed. “She said she was scared and looked for you, but you weren’t there all night.”
Heat creeps up my neck and my stomach twists. Damn it.
I clear my throat, forcing a steady voice. “Tell her I’m sorry, please.”
Leyla rolls her eyes but does as I ask, relaying my apology. Then she turns back to me.
“Where were you?”
“Nowhere.”
The answer leaves my lips too fast. It’s too obvious, really. Leyla’s lips curl slightly, not buying my lie for a second.
“We saw you at the grave with Mr. Irons.” Her head tilts. “Were you with him?”
The weight of the question settles heavily in the space between us. My breath hitches just slightly. Not enough to be obvious. But Leyla catches it anyway.
“You should be careful.” Leyla’s voice is calm, but there’s something heavy beneath it. “He’s dangerous.”
My pulse kicks up, but I keep my face neutral.
“How do you know that?”
She shrugs one shoulder, casual, but the words that follow land like a brick in my stomach.
“He bought us, didn’t he?”
Fuck. It’s hard to argue with her logic.
I open my mouth to say something, anything really, but she keeps going.
“But Agnes is the one who told us he’s dangerous.”
That gets my attention.
I straighten slightly. “What else did Agnes say?”
“To stay out of his wing of the house and to never go to the basement.”
My brows pull together. “Where’s the basement?”
She shakes her head immediately.
“I’m not dumb.”
I blink, caught off guard. “I didn’t say you were.”
“Then don’t ask me to tell you something that I know will get me in trouble.”
She glances down at Polina, who’s still clutching my hand. Her gaze hardens.
“Take the crybaby back to her room. Before we all get in trouble.”
And then she closes the door. Right in our faces. A rush of irritation spikes through me. But underneath it? Something deeper. What the hell is in that basement?
After settling Polina in her room, I return to mine, shutting the door behind me. For a moment, I just stand there. Claudius said he wants me to move my things into his room. The horny side of me is cheering. The cautious side? It’s asking me what the hell I’m doing as I pull clothes off hangers.
With each trip, I carry over the dresses, the tops, the pant, the shoes. All the things Claudius bought for me. Each step into his room feels like I’m crossing a line I can’t uncross.
By the time I go back for the last load, my room is bare.
I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, when something falls out. A notebook. I crouch, picking it up, flipping it open. My breath catches as I stare back at the list. The one I made before I left Dallas.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, my fingers tracing the words I scribbled what feels like a lifetime ago. How could I have forgotten about them so easily? It’s like everything has faded to either before Claudius or after. And my friends fall in the before.
My vision blurs. I don’t even realize I’m crying until teardrops land on the paper, smudging the ink, distorting the words that once held so much certainty.
A sharp ache settles deep in my chest.
How is Harvey doing now that he’s had time to recover? Did he get his results back? Is the cancer gone? And Lili… How is she? How is the baby? Has she felt it move, like I’ve felt mine?
My breath catches as my hand goes to my stomach. The smallest swell beneath my palm. A life I’ve barely acknowledged. A secret I’ve let slip too far into the background. Another thing I’ve let slide. Another thing I’ve ignored while letting myself get lost in Claudius.
I exhale, steadying myself. That stops tonight.
Because I have to tell him.
No more waiting. No more pushing it aside, pretending I have all the time in the world. Tonight, he finds out about the baby. No matter what happens next.
I carry my bag into his room, placing it neatly in my closet.
My closet.
The thought sends a strange, unexpected warmth through me.
“I like how that looks.” His voice rumbles from behind me.
I spin, only for Claudius to pull me into his arms, his touch effortless, natural like I already belong there. His lips brush lightly against mine. A tease. A promise.
“Hi.”
I smile, voice softer than I intend. “Hi.”
He doesn’t let me go. “I missed you.”
My lips twitch. “You were only gone for an hour.”
“Felt like longer.”
But then his expression shifts. It’s slight. A flicker. A hesitation. He looks away for a moment.
“I have to leave for a bit.” His tone is casual, but there’s something underneath it. “Something on the mainland needs my attention.”
My pulse kicks up. Is he going to tell me about my father?
“Is everything okay?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
His smile is slow, controlled. “It will be.”
That’s not an answer.
But before I can press him, he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I was hoping you’d join me for a picnic on the beach before I go.”
The shift is deliberate. A distraction. But I let him have it. For now.
I smile back. “That would be nice.”
His fingers trace down my arm, a casual and possessive touch. “I believe there’s a swimsuit in there.” His smirk deepens. “Bring it.”
A pause.
“Or don’t.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
His grin is wicked. “And yet, here you are.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest feels lighter. “When do you want to leave?”
Claudius tugs me closer, lips brushing against my ear. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I hum, tilting my head as I meet his gaze. “You’re making it hard to want to leave.”
Claudius smirks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Then hurry.”
His hands slip away, giving me space, but his presence lingers. It’s that quiet, powerful pull that always keeps me on edge.
I take my time, grabbing a hat and sandals to go with my shorts and top. And I purposely leave the swimsuit behind.
When I straighten, he eyes me. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I arch a brow. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
He follows my gaze down, as if just now noticing he’s still in slacks and a button-up.
“Give me two.”
I nod, sitting on the edge of the bed as he disappears into the closet.
A grin plays at my lips as I wait. But when he steps back out…
My. God.
I feel my breath catch, my pulse jump. I knew he was handsome. Hell, I’ve seen every inch of his body naked. But seeing him in black board shorts, low-slung on his hips, and sandals, his shirt nowhere to be found?
My libido is officially in overdrive.
His muscles are lean and cut, golden skin stretching over every hard plane.
I try not to stare and fail miserably.
His smirk widens. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You ready?” His voice is smooth, as if he doesn’t notice the effect he’s having on me.
I swallow, forcing myself to focus. “Yeah.”
I stand, brushing past him closer than I need to. His fingers skim my waist, just for a second. A tease. A challenge.
And just like that, the game has officially started. And I can’t wait.