Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Imogene
Silence settled like a heavy blanket over the car as Henry drove away from the animal clinic, minus one furry, slobbery passenger. I still had trouble wrapping my head around the idea that Ollie was gone.
But like I reminded myself as we said goodbye, it was the humane thing to do. If we kept him alive, he’d only suffer more.
It didn’t make it hurt any less, especially after losing him so unexpectedly, and due to poison. It was going to take me some time to get over this loss.
I was pretty sure it would take Gideon some time, too.
Over the past few hours, I saw more pieces of the old Samuel.
As he clutched Ollie to his chest.
As he kissed his head.
As he told him what a good boy he was.
That wasn’t Gideon Saint. It was Samuel. My Samuel.
The car finally slowed to a stop, and I looked out the window, expecting to be in front of my townhouse.
But we weren’t.
Instead, Henry pulled through an ornate metal gate and up a long drive toward one of the massive beach-front homes I often ran by.
“Where are we?” I asked, confused.
“My place,” Gideon answered.
“What are we doing here? I thought?—”
He took my hand in his, brushing his thumb along my knuckles. After losing Ollie, I needed his touch. Craved it.
“Ollie was poisoned, Imogene. I don’t think it was a coincidence it happened right after you mentioned to Liam that a detective had been looking into my death.”
“You think Liam poisoned Ollie?” I asked, feeling like I was going to be sick.
Not because I didn’t think he could do something like this. But because the idea was no longer as far-fetched as it once would have been.
“I could be wrong, but something tells me this wasn’t a fucking accident,” he replied with a hard edge to his voice. “You can be damn sure I’m not taking any chances with your safety, regardless of how you feel about me right now. So you’re going to stay here tonight. You’ll have your own space,” he added quickly. “Henry’s already arranged for someone to install a state-of-the-art security system at your place tomorrow. This time, do not give anyone the passcodes. Not even Melanie. No one but you should know them. Okay?”
I swallowed hard at the intensity in his gaze.
While I hated the idea of being forced out of my home, I wasn’t sure if I could walk in the front door and not burst into tears at the reminder that Ollie was no longer there to greet me. That I’d never hear his paws scampering on the hardwood floor. That I’d no longer be woken up by his stinky breath as he slobbered all over my face.
“Okay,” I finally said with a nod.
“Thank you.” He squeezed my hand.
Henry pulled the SUV into the oversized garage, and Gideon jumped out, hurrying to my side to help me to my feet.
“Sorry about Ollie,” Henry said, approaching me and wrapping me in a hug. “He was an amazing dog.”
“Yes, he was.”
He gave me one last squeeze before dropping his hold on me and looking at Gideon. “I’ll head over to her place early with the crew.”
“Thanks, brother.”
The two men embraced briefly. Then Henry made his way toward the door at the back of the garage.
“He stays in the guest house by the pool,” Gideon explained, answering the question plastered on my face. “At least for now.”
“I see,” I replied, unsure what else to say. I had dozens of questions about Henry’s involvement in Gideon’s plan for revenge, but I was too exhausted to get into any of that tonight.
“Come on. You’ve had a long day.” His hand was warm and firm on my back as he guided me up the short flight of stairs leading into the house.
He punched a code into the keypad before placing a finger on the scanner. With a click, the door unlocked, and he steered me into the darkened interior of his home, entering yet another code into the panel on the wall beside the garage door. Once he disarmed the security system, he returned his hand to my lower back and led me into an open dining and living space, floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a stunning view of the moonlit ocean.
“This place…” I began, turning a slow circle as I took in my surroundings. “It looks familiar.”
Gideon chuckled under his breath. “Liam hoped to buy it. When I found that out?—”
“You outbid him.”
“I didn’t want him living so close to you,” he explained casually, as if it were completely normal for someone to spend millions of dollars on a house just to prevent someone else from buying it.
“How do you have so much money?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He studied me for a protracted beat, as if weighing what to tell me.
“From what I remember, after your death, your ownership interest in Cloud Hero went to Liam.”
His jaw ticked, but he eventually nodded. “It did.”
“Right, so…”
“I invested in Henry’s company early on. After I showed up on his doorstep, he paid me for my ownership interest.”
“And all the talk about being a venture capitalist?”
“Oh, but I am.”
With a wink, he walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, loosening the cap before handing it to me. It was something Samuel always did for me. I couldn’t help but smile at the idea that, despite his argument to the contrary, there were still parts of Samuel inside him.
Even if they were buried far below the surface.
“Come on. I’ll show you around,” he offered, escorting me out of the living area and giving me a brief tour of the library, game room, and movie theater on the lower level before heading up to the second floor, where all of the bedrooms were.
As beautiful as the house was, it lacked personality. All the artwork adorning the walls was impersonal, making this place feel more like a museum than a home. Even Liam’s many residences had personal touches, mostly in the form of photos of him posing with various notable people, along with a few of us together.
But Gideon had nothing in this house that gave me a clue as to who he truly was. The entire building felt hollow, devoid of personal connection or memories. A pristine fa?ade desperately struggling to conceal the past.
“I had Henry bring some of your things here,” Gideon stated as he led me into yet another bedroom decorated with a sophisticated beach vibe.
This one was much more luxurious and expansive than the others, although they were all spacious in their own right. A massive bed stood in the center of the room, draped with a pristine white duvet and decorative pillows in various hues of blue and coral. There was even a reading nook with a large wingback chair and a perfect view of the ocean. I could picture myself curled up in that spot with a good book and a glass of wine, watching as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.
As I padded across the lush carpeting and toward even more floor-to-ceiling windows, a partition slid open.
“If you ever want to go out onto the balcony, just click this.” Gideon pointed to a panel by the bed. “It will open the door for you.”
I nodded and stepped onto the terrace, drawing in a deep breath of the briny ocean air. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” Gideon replied. But when I stole a glance at him, his gaze wasn’t focused on the horizon. It was glued to me.
The heat in his stare reminded me of the way he looked at me all those years ago.
Of the way Samuel looked at me all those years ago.
I turned toward him, my eyes tracing over the face that was foreign yet familiar at the same time. The atmosphere crackled with electricity as I stepped closer, my gaze never straying from his.
But before I could erase the final space separating us, he took a step back and cleared his throat.
“You should get some sleep. If you need anything, I’ll be right across the hall.”
“Samuel, I?—”
“I told you,” he cut me off, all traces of the man I fell in love with years ago disappearing in a heartbeat. “It’s Gideon.”
He turned sharply, his posture rigid and straight as he strode through the room and into the hallway.
The second he disappeared behind the door, I exhaled a long sigh, trying to push down the confusion swirling inside me from his abrupt departure. Maybe I should have insisted on staying at my place, regardless of the memories of Ollie that would surround me.
After dragging myself back inside and closing the doors, I moved toward the ottoman at the foot of the bed where my suitcase rested. I quickly changed into a t-shirt and pair of sleep shorts, then padded across the room toward a door I assumed led to the ensuite bathroom.
Instead, I found myself in a massive closet, bigger than my entire bedroom. Dozens of pristine suits lined the walls, each of them identical to the ones I’d seen Gideon wear over the past few weeks. Why would his suits be in here? Was this his bedroom?
I headed toward the dresser along the far wall of the closet and opened one of the drawers. As expected, it contained the same brand of boxer briefs he preferred, all but confirming this was his closet.
But why?
Why would he have me sleep in here when there were a handful of other rooms he could have offered?
Maybe he just wanted to make sure I was comfortable after tonight so he gave me the most luxurious room in the house. Still, I didn’t want to impose. Didn’t want him to feel like I was kicking him out of his bedroom.
Frowning, I closed the drawer and slipped out of the closet, not stopping until I stood in front of the door to his room. Or the room where he said he’d be sleeping tonight.
“Gideon,” I called out as I knocked. “You didn’t need to give up your bedroom for me. I’m going to sleep in one of the other rooms, but I wanted to let you know first so you wouldn’t get worried.”
I paused, waiting for his response, but none came. I pressed my ear up to the door, straining to listen for any movement from within, hearing nothing.
“Gideon?” I called out again, testing the doorknob with a gentle hand.
To my surprise, it gave way, and I tentatively pushed open the door, stepping into another luxurious bedroom, if a bit smaller than the others and without an ocean view. It was darker and colder, the windows covered with blackout curtains. Regardless, there was no sign of Gideon.
I was about to head back into the hallway to continue my search for him when a partially open door caught my attention. If the bedside lamp wasn’t illuminated, casting a subtle glow on the space, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But the cement floor and plywood walls seemed out of place compared to the plush carpeting and lavish furnishings in the room.
Stepping closer, I placed my hand on the door and pushed it wider, taking in the room that resembled a bleak prison cell.
If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed Gideon was just having this space remodeled.
But I knew better.
Especially when my eyes fell on the threadbare blanket on the floor beside a framed picture of us, making me all but certain this was where Gideon actually slept at night.