24. A Level of Fuckery I Never Imagined #2
Camila told the staff never to leave without her knowledge and made it a policy for all the girls to always have a security guard in the background, just in case.
It seemed excessive, but Camila likes to keep the staff safe from men who are snakes.
Funny, she’s screwing the biggest serpent of them all—or she used to be.
Now, whenever Noah or the girls want to leave without security hovering and reporting back their business, they enlist Gavin’s help.
“He left the keys in the ignition,” she says. “I sent you a pin for the back gate, so no one sees you leave.” She hugs me and kisses my head. “Please be safe and text me as soon as you can. I’ll tell everyone you’re sick. It should buy you a few days.”
“Thank you. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. The last thing I want is for you to get in trouble for lying for me.”
“I’ll be fine. I have plenty of options. Don’t worry about me. If you need anything, call my mom. Okay?”
Amara doesn’t have anymore connections of employment for me, but I don’t say that.
“Okay.” I slip from her arms and blink back the new tears burning my eyes. She waits until I get my GPS up and drive away.
I have no idea where I’m going. I have no friends or family. Everything I have in life is in this car. For the first time ever, I’m truly alone.
Wes
I stare out the windows of my penthouse, the Flatiron District aglow against the night sky, and text Camila for an update.
Fable has the stomach flu. It came on suddenly. According to Noah, Fable felt sick and didn’t want to throw up in front of me. That’s why she insisted on leaving my room.
She’s been isolating herself ever since, so no one else gets sick. Noah seems to be fine, as do I, but I have the immune system of an ox.
Camila takes illnesses of any kind seriously, as she should. It’s bad for business, and unlike me or the other Lords, Camila and the entire staff get paid based on the success of the place.
Staying away from Fable gets harder by the day. I want to check on her in person, but I won’t get the chance until this weekend.
Instead, I’m stuck in the city with Lachlan and the CFO of Spencer Securities, handling meetings that can’t move forward without me. We’re expanding the business to the UK. It took me a year of pushing the idea to make it happen, but Lachlan finally sees the benefit.
His hesitation was more about having his life torn between the two countries.
For some reason, he thought Emery wanted him solely in the US.
Turns out, she misses Scotland and wants a place in the UK to get her husband closer to Rory.
Lachlan doesn’t want to stir up new issues after ending a century-old feud with his spiteful cousin regarding his birth inheritance—Duhnill Castle—and believes visiting Rory and his previous home will do just that.
Enough time has passed since the day I helped execute the sadist. Emery thinks so too and hopes if they get an additional house in the UK, Lachlan will eventually get over this fear.
I’m all for it. I would move back to the UK if Spencer Securities weren’t our biggest financial investment.
Not to Hale manor—never there—but I’d spend more time in my London flat and in Scotland visiting Rory and Tessa.
Part of me wants to whisk Fable away there and keep her to myself, where I can protect her from everything.
I almost came clean to her last weekend.
I left her in the tub after having my way with her—to my absolute delight—for a third time and waited to see what she’d do.
She couldn’t see to get out of the tub blindfolded like she was, so I left it to chance.
Either she’d instinctively take off the sash covering her eyes and glimpse me, or she’d wait for me to guide her from the tub.
If she chose the first, I’d explain everything my father did after she saved me in England and tell her I want to help her now anyway I can.
Instead, she got sick. The urge to tuck her into my bed and keep her there consumed me in a way it never has with any woman. I don’t care for people I’m screwing. I certainly don’t want to nurse them back to health, but then, no one has ever cared for me the way she did in that garden. No one.
Fable was the first person to show me love and kindness for no reason. She didn’t know me or want something from me. She saw a broken, beaten young man who needed help, and she acted. I often wonder if she were older, if I would have offered to take her with me when Lachlan came to my rescue.
She wouldn’t have left her mum, but I didn’t know that back then.
If I had, I might have found a way to get them both to go with me.
Fable was young, as was I, but mature beyond her years.
I was an arrogant prick who thought I was untouchable until my father taught me the toughest lesson of all.
Never believe you’ve seen the worst of someone. A person can always sink lower.
Socrates argued that parents deserve immense gratitude for giving their children existence and enduring the sacrifices of rearing them.
My father would agree wholeheartedly, believing we owe him everything for the mere gift of his sperm and name, even though he had zero part in raising us.
This is why I’ve never committed to a woman.
That could lead to emotions, which could lead to marriage and children.
Three things I want nothing to do with. I’d be terrible at each.
My phone dings with a text.
Camila: She’s resting and drinking plenty of fluids, per the doctor’s instructions. Noah keeps checking on her and says Fable is hanging in there.
That girl needs a raise.
Camila: What about you? How do you feel?
Me: What about my offer? Still no?
I wanted to put Fable in a private facility in the city where the wealthy often recover from illness or the aftermath of heavy partying, but Camila said Fable wanted to stay in her room with her cat.
If she'd been nearby, I could've spied on her and eased my worry.
I had to stop myself three times from forcing her into the facility.
Camila: Still no. Leave her be. From what Noah says, Fable is used to taking care of herself.
And I fucking hate that she’s had to.