Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Our gazebo.
I climb the stairs, and my knees buckle, hitting the stone floor in the middle of the painted zodiac wheel. A primal sob claws its way out of my throat as I fold inward, unable to hold myself up any longer.
I’m back at the beginning of this pain, as if my grief never left—as if it only played dead before knocking me down again.
“Miss Van Buren.” Astrid’s voice is unusually soft as she kneels beside me. “Please come inside.”
“I can’t.”
She rests a hand on my shoulder, concern flooding her usually stern features. “You’ll freeze out here.”
“I said no!” I jerk away from her touch, and she recoils, feet unsteady. Her mask of rigid composure drops into place again, but not before I catch a glimpse of the woman underneath the guardian.
I should apologize for yelling, but the pain slashing through my chest is too great. So I ignore her and curl into the fetal position, tears burning like acid down my frozen cheeks.
Astrid steps out of view, quietly giving up, and it isn’t long before the crunch of heavy footfalls arrive.
Liam appears first.
Then Oliver.
Vance, Ford, and Hugo follow, and the five of them form a protective barrier around me.
Oliver steps in front of Liam, crouching at my side, and shrugs off his suit jacket.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping the hot grief from my face. “I couldn’t stay in there.”
“Don’t apologize.” He helps me into a sitting position then drapes the coat over my shoulders. The lining is warm from his body, his heat grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
“I didn’t mean to disrupt the service.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Oliver winds his arms around my shivering form and tucks me against his chest.
As we leave the gazebo, my gaze snags on Liam’s distraught face.
Guilt tugs at me.
I’ve done it again—blindly run into the cold. He saved me once, and I’ve just put him through it a second time.
Only now, he has no choice but to let someone else act as savior.
Oliver leads the way back to the estate, carrying me through the snow in silence. The storm has thickened, flakes whipping sideways in harsh gusts. Disorientation gnaws at me, nausea curling with every shiver.
We enter the tower, and I press closer to his warmth as the seven of us crowd into the elevator.
Overhead lights cast a golden hue across the polished walls, catching fractured reflections of the men in their dark suits, their faces drawn tight with the weight of the day.
When the car stops at the House of Capricorn, Oliver steps out without a word, cradling me like I’m breakable.
Liam moves to follow, but Oliver shakes his head.
“I’ve got her.”
The chancellor halts, his jaw ticking once in protest, though he isn’t about to argue.
Not while I’m under Oliver’s control.
And something about that pokes beneath the pain, prodding my anger.
Why do they get to decide?
Why does any man get to say I’ve got her?
“Put me down,” I demand, struggling against Oliver’s chest.
He lowers me to my feet as Astrid exits the elevator. The tension between him and Liam holds until the doors slide shut between them. Motors whir in a hush of motion that carries the car to higher floors, leaving the three of us alone.
Oliver unlocks the front door, and I pull his jacket tighter around me as I step into the sitting room. He dismisses Astrid and trails after me, snowmelt dripping from his hair onto his drab black suit.
I’m soaked too, my teeth chattering as I sink into the sofa closest to the fireplace and lean into the cushions, too emotionally drained to do anything else.
Flames crackle, but the warmth doesn’t reach me.
“It’s time for another therapy session with Sully,” he says, pacing in front of me, his gait unhurried. “I’ll have something arranged.”
“Do what you must. I don’t care anymore.”
He frowns. “That’s a problem, then.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he lets the silence stretch long enough to aggravate me.
I cross my arms. “What’s a problem?”
“You, not caring. That won’t make for a happy marriage.”
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I thought you didn’t want to marry me.”
“That’s beside the point. Marriage or not, I don’t like this apathetic state of yours.”
“You speak of happy marriages, but I’m the one who needs help? Is Dr. Price aware you suffer from delusions of grandeur?”
He smirks. “No delusions here. I’d probably make a terrible husband anyway.”
“I don’t need therapy,” I bite out. “Especially not from Dr. Price.” The name lands with scorn.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“Why do you care?”
He settles next to me, and a sigh of resignation slips out.
“You remind me of Talitha.” He tilts his head, locking his eyes with mine. “She didn’t just pass, Novalee. She killed herself.”
I gape at him, his words illuminating every moment I’ve spent in his presence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”