Chapter 147
Chapter 147:
Gaston rose slowly. He straightened his cuffs with deliberate calm and looked down at Kieran, who lay groaning on the floor, his nose visibly broken.
“He assaulted my wife,” Gaston said to Xander. “I defended her p>
“He’s insane! Arrest him!” Kieran spat blood, attempting to sit up. “He tried to kill me p>
Xander’s gaze moved from Kieran’s ruined face to Gaston’s controlled fury, and then to Jocelyn — shaken, but resolute. Gaston hadn’t flinched or manufactured an excuse. He stood his ground like a man admitting to exactly what he had done and prepared to answer for it.
𝖫a𝗍𝖾𝘴𝘁 𝗰𝗁𝘢р𝘵𝗲𝘳𝘀 𝗈ո
“My husband was protecting me,” Jocelyn said. Her voice trembled, but it held. She stepped to Gaston’s side. “Kieran Douglas dragged me in here and struck me p>
Gaston looked at her — a brief, unguarded flash of something crossing his face. Then he reached out and drew her behind him, placing himself between her and the phones already raised in the crowd.
“Sheriff,” Gaston said, his voice dropping to something low and precise. “Take his statement. Then have your forensics team document my wife’s face. His fingerprints will be on her cheek.” He glanced toward the door. “My lawyers are already on their way p>
They bypassed the hospital. The penthouse was a silent refuge from the storm of sirens and flashing lights they had left behind.
An hour later, Gaston stood at the panoramic window with a glass of whiskey, watching the city lights. His knuckles were raw and bleeding. He was on the phone with Vance, managing the fallout. In the background, Dr. Evans — a physician on the Collins payroll — quietly packed his bag after tending to Jocelyn.
“No concussion,” Dr. Evans said in a low voice, addressing Jocelyn with a nod. “The cheek will bruise. Keep ice on it.” He glanced toward Gaston’s back. “He, on the other hand, needs those knuckles properly cleaned and wrapped p>
“I’m fine,” Gaston said, without turning from the window.
Jocelyn watched him for a moment after the doctor left. A wave of guilt moved through her. “I shouldn’t have gone to that dinner p>
She crossed to the bar, picked up the medical kit, and sat on the arm of the sofa beside him. She reached out and took his hand without asking. His knuckles were bruised and swollen, the skin split in two places.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
“Only when I think about him touching you,” Gaston said. His voice was low and unguarded. He turned and looked at her, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite name.
Her heart moved in her chest. “You fought like a maniac. You could have been arrested p>
“I protect what’s mine,” he said, holding her gaze with that same intensity she had felt on the yacht.
“The contract?” she asked, testing the word between them. “Is that in the clause p>
“Screw the contract,” he said quietly.
Jocelyn said nothing. She opened the antiseptic, pressed a cotton pad gently to the split skin on his knuckles, and worked in silence. His hand remained perfectly still in hers.
At Mount Sinai Hospital, Kieran was in considerably worse condition.