Chapter 314
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Chapter 314:
A violent tremor ripped through his arm. The hot black coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug and scalded his knuckles. He didn’t feel it. A wave of pure, suffocating humiliation shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his skull, draining his face to a sickly, ashen grey.
Kieran dropped the mug. It shattered on the hardwood floor. He shoved the glass doors open and sprinted barefoot down the driveway.
He stopped in front of the trash bin, his chest heaving.
He looked at the bruised, dirty petals. He looked at the black card shoved into the grime. His hands curled into tight fists, fingernails digging into his palms until they bled.
He knew Jocelyn. She was too polite, too professional. If she had wanted to reject the flowers, she would have had her hotel staff return them to his office. She would never do something this aggressively contemptuous.
There was only one person arrogant enough to do this. The heir to the Collins empire. It was a naked, screaming declaration of war.
Sunlight flooded the dining room of the Manhattan penthouse.
Jocelyn walked out of the master bedroom in a sharp, tailored pencil skirt and a silk blouse. She paused in the living room and frowned at the empty coffee table.
“Gaston?” she called, heading into the dining room. “Where did the roses go p>
ѕ𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆о𝗎𝘳 𝖿a𝘃𝗼𝗋𝗂tе 𝗇o𝘷𝘦lѕ 𝗼𝗻
Gaston sat at the head of the table in a crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, elegantly cutting into a plate of Eggs Benedict. He looked up, his face arranged into a portrait of perfect, innocent regret.
“I am so sorry, darling,” Gaston said smoothly, not blinking once. “I woke up with a terrible headache. It turns out I have a slight allergy to that specific type of pollen p>
He set his silver knife down.
“I could barely breathe,” Gaston continued, his voice dropping to a soft, apologetic tone. “I had to ask Chen to dispose of them early this morning. I hope you are not angry p>
Jocelyn’s eyes widened. A sharp pang of guilt struck her chest. She believed every word.
“Oh my god, no, I am not angry,” she said quickly, crossing to his chair, her face full of concern. “Are you okay? Do you need an antihistamine p>
Gaston smiled. He reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her effortlessly down onto his lap. Jocelyn gasped softly as she landed against his hard thighs. He wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her to his body, and buried his face in the curve of her neck.
He took a long, slow breath, drawing in the scent of her Bvlgari perfume.
“I am perfectly fine now,” Gaston murmured, his voice a low rumble against her collarbone. “As long as I can only smell you, I can breathe perfectly p>
Jocelyn’s face flushed a deep, brilliant red. Her heart fluttered wildly against her ribs. The heavy, sensual tension of the previous nights flared back to life between them instantly.
On the dining table, Gaston’s phone screen lit up — the high-definition photo from Chen, the red roses stuffed into the dirty Hamptons trash bin. Gaston didn’t look at it. He reached out blindly, flipped the phone face down against the wood, and pulled his wife closer.