Chapter 468
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Chapter 468:
The electronic lock on the front door beeped.
Gaston walked into the penthouse, bringing a gust of cold winter air with him. In one large hand he carried a pristine white box from Jocelyn’s favorite French patisserie. He had just dismantled Sterling Capital, and some rare, quiet part of him had been looking forward to seeing the relief on his wife’s face.
“Jocelyn, I’m home,” he called out, his deep voice carrying an unusual note of warmth.
He walked down the hallway and stopped dead.
Jocelyn was coming out of the master bedroom, dragging her overnight bag behind her. She didn’t look at him.
The warmth left Gaston’s face instantly. His jaw locked. He dropped his briefcase, closed the distance in two strides, and clamped his hand over the handle of the bag, stopping her where she stood.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register.
Jocelyn kept her eyes fixed on the floor. “I have a lot of stress with the hotel. I’m not sleeping well. I’m moving into the guest suite for a few days p>
Gaston’s eyes narrowed. His predatory instincts sharpened. He could see the faint redness rimming her eyes. He could feel the freezing wall she had erected between them as clearly as if it were made of stone.
R𝖾𝘢𝗱 oո 𝖺ո𝗒 𝗱𝖾v𝗂𝘤𝗲 оn
“Look at me,” he said quietly. He reached out, his large hand moving to cup her jaw. “Who said something to you today p>
“Don’t touch me!” Jocelyn snapped. She struck his hand away with a sharp, panicked motion.
The sound of it echoed in the quiet hallway. Gaston went perfectly still, his hand suspended in the air.
Jocelyn stepped back and wrapped her arms around her own waist. She forced herself to meet his eyes, delivering the most precise strike she could to protect herself.
“Gaston,” she said, her voice a cold whip of authority, “your past is bleeding into my life. A woman connected to your former therapist tried to humiliate me in my own office today. I am not going to be collateral damage. I need you to handle this, and I need to sleep alone tonight until you do. This isn’t about trust — it’s about respect for what we have now. Don’t let ghosts into our home p>
The words hit him like a barrage of bullets.
Ghosts. He had promised to protect her from them, and yet his own were clawing at her door. He had believed they had finally reached a place of real, raw honesty between them. Watching her raise this fortress tore a hole through his chest.
Gaston’s eyes darkened with a mixture of profound hurt and barely contained fury. He drew his hand back slowly. The muscles along his jaw ticked.
“As you wish,” he said. His voice was absolute ice.
He stepped aside.
Jocelyn dragged her bag down the hallway and walked into the guest suite. The heavy door clicked shut, and the lock engaged with a sharp, definitive snap.