Chapter 231
CATHERINE
Bringing Dante over was a plan to kill two birds with a stone. First was saving Julian. The second? You will find out soon.
“Dante,” Richard said, his voice forced into a deep, welcoming rumble. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you. I hope everything is well with you p>
Dante stood, extending a hand. “Good evening, Richard. Everything’s fine. My father sends his regards, but that’s actually why I’m here. I’m afraid there’s a bit of a scheduling conflict we didn’t foresee p>
Richard took a seat in his high-backed leather wing chair, gesturing for Dante to do the same. I remained standing, hoping our plan would work. I kept my eyes on the carpet, trying to play the role of the dutiful, quiet daughter and future wife.
“Conflict?” Richard asked, his eyes narrowing. “I hope it doesn’t concern the engagement party p>
“Exactly,” Dante replied, leaning forward with an apologetic tilt of his head. “I am sorry, Richard but the timeframe you set… it’s simply not going to be possible for me. My father has to travel out of the country for a series of high-level meetings starting next week and it will last for a month p>
Richard leaned back, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “That’s not a problem. Your father mustn’t be present for the engagement p>
“No. It’s not just my dad. In his absence, I have to fill in. The responsibility is quite significant p>
He looked perplexed, a flicker of irritation crossing his brow. “And why, exactly, is that a problem for us? Surely your father’s business can survive a few nights of your absence for your own engagement p>
“It’s not just one night, Richard,” Dante countered smoothly. “The meetings are back-to-back, across three different time zones. I’ve checked the itinerary, and I’ve even tried to see if any of them could be postponed, but these are top-tier clients. Postponing isn’t an option. My father was very clear that this takes priority p>
I saw the muscle in Richard’s cheek jump. He hated being told ’no,’ especially when it came to his carefully curated public image. I took a small step forward, making my voice sound as innocent and helpful as possible.
“If the schedule is that tight, Richard,” I suggested, “maybe we should just postpone the engagement for a while? It would give us more time to make sure everything is perfect anyway. We wouldn’t want it to feel rushed p>
Richard shifted his gaze to me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes were dark and unreadable. I held my breath, hoping—praying—that he would take the bait. Postponing was the other bird we needed to kill. We needed that extra month to gather enough dirt to bury him before the rings were ever exchanged.
He let out a long, slow breath, resting his back against the chair. For a while, he stared at the ceiling as if weighing the options. Then, slowly, that familiar, sickening smile began to spread across his face, the one that usually preceded someone’s life falling apart.
“Postpone?” Richard whispered, the word sounding like a threat. He looked at Dante, then back at me. “No. I don’t think so. In fact, I think we should do the opposite p>
Dante’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean p>
“If you’re going to be that busy in the coming weeks, we should get this settled now,” Richard announced, his voice regaining its booming authority. “We won’t postpone it. We’ll move it up. The engagement will happen in two weeks p>
The words hit like a physical blow. I felt the blood drain from my face, and beside me, I could see Dante’s hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“Two weeks?” Dante repeated, his voice tight. “Richard, that’s… that’s impossible. The logistics alone p>
“I’ll handle the logistics,” Richard cut him off, sitting forward with a renewed sense of vigor. The fear he had was gone and replaced by the sheer high of exerting control. “My team can pivot. Two weeks from Saturday. It’ll be the event of the season, and it puts an end to all this back-and-forth. It’s settled p>
I felt a wave of nausea roll through me. Our plan hadn’t just failed; it had backfired with a violence I hadn’t expected. Who knew trying to buy time would end up cutting our window in half.
“I… excuse me,” I stammered, my voice sounding thin and watery. “I think I left my phone upstairs. I need to check on something p>
Richard didn’t even look at me. He was already talking to Dante about guest lists and security. I turned and bolted from the room, my footsteps silent on the thick rugs as I hurried toward the staircase.
I needed Julian. I needed to tell him that the world was collapsing around us. I ran down the long gallery, the portraits of Vaughn ancestors staring down at me with cold, judgmental eyes. I reached Julian’s door and pushed it open without knocking.
“Julian, we have a p>
The room was empty.
“Julian?” I whispered, looking toward his bathroom. Empty.
A knot of pure, cold fear began to tighten in my ches.. He was supposed to be here. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling so much I almost dropped it.
The screen was flooded with notifications.
KIERA (2:15): Did he get out?
KIERA (2:18): Catherine, answer me. Why the heck is Julian still in Richard’s study?
KIERA (2:20): Julian hasn’t come out. CATHERINE!
My heart stopped. My eyes popped open in total shock as I stared at the time stamps. He had been in there the whole time.
When I was talking to Richard at the door, when I was leading him to the living room to see Dante… Julian was still trapped inside?
I didn’t think. I turned and ran back toward the other wing, my lungs burning. I reached the study door and pressed my ear against the wood. There was silence.
I gripped the handle, praying that Richard hadn’t locked it from the outside. It turned. I slipped inside, closing the door softly behind me.
“Julian?” I called out into the shadows. “Julian, are you here p>
A soft, ragged sound came from behind a massive bookshelf in the corner. I hurried over, my heart breaking before I even saw him.
He was slumped on the floor in the narrow alcove, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was shaking—not just a tremor, but a full-body shudder that looked violent in the dim light. Sweat had soaked through his shirt, making the fabric cling to his skin, and his face was a deathly shade of gray.
“Julian!” I gasped, dropping to my knees beside him.
He didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on the floor, wide and unfocused, his breath coming in short hitches that sounded like he was choking on the very air. It was the second time I had seen him like this.
“Julian, look at me,” I whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. His skin was ice-cold and slick with perspiration. “I’m here. You’re okay. He’s gone p>
He didn’t move. He just kept shaking, his hands gripped so tightly in his hair that I was afraid he was going to pull it out.