Gabriella isn’t happy, huffing while walking past me. “I swear, if it’s not one thing, it’s another. My life was never so exciting before, and I miss the quiet.”
“The joy of pets.”
“Is this why you don’t have any?” She grabs a bottle of some cleaning solution and sprays the area, nearly drenching it before grabbing an old towel from the same place. Gabriella wipes it down, and the frown on her face while mumbling about her dog is quite cute.
“My pets can’t be housed like domesticated ones can be.”
Her hand pauses its cleaning action, and her head turns toward me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m the private owner of a conservation outside of the country that houses the largest collection of exotic animals in the world. These are animals that were once pets and when the owners couldn’t afford the maintenance or the city demanded they get rid of them, I took them in.”
“You’re kidding,” she asks, her mess on the floor now forgotten.
“Not at all.”
“For real, or are you yanking my—”
“I’m serious.”
“Wow.” Her expressions flicker from shock to curious to awe in the span of five seconds. Gabriella rises onto the tips of her toes, jumping in place, and I can’t help but look at her breasts. The way they bounce. How perky they are with tiny little points that press against the fabric of my shirt she’s still wearing. “...visit it?
“I’m sorry, what?” There’s no shame in my expression, and she doesn’t catch me looking either. The woman is too excited, rambling a bit, and I hold up both hands to pause her. “Slower, sweetheart. What were you saying?”
“I said, Mr. Astor...is it open to the public?”
“Yes and no.”
Her perfectly sculpted brows furrow. “Yes and no?”
“It’s not open to the public but would be for you. We can go after you—” This time, I’m interrupted and it’s Tero’s ringtone. He’s not one to interrupt me unless it’s important, and I don’t hesitate to pull a different phone from the one I let the detective use at the hospital. Only he and his wife have this number. “What?”
“My apologies for the interruption. I know you’re still with Miss Moore, but something has come up that you need to see.” He sounds a little out of breath. Agitated. “Can I meet you at the office or penthouse in an hour?”
“Office, and clear the building,” I say, my eyes watching Gabriella. She’s curious, a little worried, but tries to pretend she isn’t listening while bending to pick up the ruined towel. That one is tossed in the wastebasket before she grabs another, spraying more solution on the floor and repeating the process until it’s clean. “Can you swing by the penthouse and pick up the file atop my desk? There’s something in there we need to go over as well.”
“Done.” The sound of a car door closing comes through the line before the start of an engine. “I’ll see you soon, and again, my apologies for the interruption.”
“None needed. See you soon.”
“If you need to go, it’s okay.” Picking up her cleaning supplies, she puts everything back where it goes and then turns to face me again, her hands twisting in front of her. “We’ve been here a while now and everything seems fine.”
“Unfortunately, something work related does need my attention, but I’m not leaving yet.”
“No?”
“No.” Holding a hand up, I let my eyes wander around the room and take in a few pieces. She’s truly gifted. Has a certain emotional touch to each painting that comes through the canvas and settles in your bones. “First, I promised you I’d look around and make sure that the cleanup crew I hired removed the mess left behind.”
“What mess? Everything looks fine, and please don’t run late because of me.”
“The forensics team was here, and your home was searched from top to bottom, especially the downstairs doors and backyard, for clues. They dusted for fingerprints while others combed the yard for any clue as to how he got here in the first place. All procedural, but I don’t want you to have to see or handle that.”
“You’re too kind, Theodore.” There’s a hint of relief mixed with so much gratitude in her tone. She makes me feel like the saint I’m not. If anything, I’m selfish in my need to care for her, to shield her as best I can from what cannot be stopped. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Only with you, Gabriella.” Taking the steps between us, I lean down and place my lips on her forehead. I breathe her in. Her natural sweetness with a hint of vanilla and cherries still lingers after showering at my home. “Only with you.”
20
King
M
y pretty girl. My poor, trusting pretty girl.
Because souls like hers aren’t meant for this world. No. They should only exist in a reality where they’re protected—cherished—and yet, most are destroyed before they’ve had the chance to shine.
To grow and love. To relish in their freedom.
To discover what makes them different from everyone in the crowd, but then again, there’s a beautiful lesson to be learned about true emotions. Because honest and pure don’t exist, but loyalty and death are two things that will never fail you.
Someone who is loyal will never leave your side in sickness and in health. For richer or in your time of destitution.
And it’s because I love her with a sickness that I do what I do. What I must.
My loyalty will break Gabriella and then put her back together again.
