Chapter 56
Chapter 56:
The rejection stung him more deeply than the slap she had once given Aspen. He needed to regain control. He needed to calm his nerves. Without thinking, he reached for the glass in front of him — the one on the right. The one the waiter had moved.
He downed half the glass in a single, large gulp.
“Fine,” Kieran coughed, the wine tasting bitter on his tongue. “Let’s talk business p>
He stood to retrieve the papers from his briefcase, but the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. A sudden wave of heat rushed from his stomach to his head. His vision swam. The edges of the room began to blur.
He looked at Jocelyn. The harsh lights seemed to dim, casting a halo around her. She looked soft. Forgiving.
“Jocelyn…” he slurred. The drug was fast. Too fast. “You look… you look so beautiful tonight p>
Jocelyn frowned and took a step back. “You’re drunk, Kieran. This is pathetic p>
𝗔𝗱𝖽𝘪𝗰𝘵𝗂ve 𝘯𝗈𝘃𝗲𝘭ѕ 𝗈𝗻
“No… not drunk.” Kieran stumbled around the table, his legs like lead. “I just want… to save you p>
He lunged for her — a clumsy, desperate motion.
Jocelyn didn’t scream. She stepped aside with the grace of a matador. Kieran crashed into the empty chair, sending it skittering across the parquet floor, then collapsed onto the table. His hand caught the empty wine glass on the way down. It shattered.
“You’re disgusting,” Jocelyn said, her voice cold. She glanced at the documents on the table. “I’ll have my lawyers send revised copies to your office. Don’t contact me again p>
She turned and walked out, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
Kieran tried to push himself upright. The room was spinning violently now.
“Jocelyn…” he moaned, his cheek resting against the tablecloth. “Don’t go p>
The door opened again.
A figure walked in — a blur of blonde hair and the scent of expensive perfume. Chanel No. 5.
Kieran squinted. “Jocelyn p>
Aspen smiled. She walked over and stroked his hair. “Shh. It’s me. I’m here now p>
“Jocelyn,” Kieran whispered, his eyes unfocused as he latched onto the image his drugged mind wanted to see. “I knew you’d come back… I knew you still loved me p>
“Of course I do,” Aspen cooed. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and grunted under his weight. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I got us a room p>
She dragged him toward the door. As she passed the table, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to a saved number marked Paparazzi: 8:00 AM. Wolfe Hotel, Room 808. He’s mine now.
Down in the lobby, Jocelyn stepped out of the elevator. Gaston was waiting by the concierge desk, studying a painting on the wall. He wore a black turtleneck and a long coat, looking effortlessly imposing.
“Done?” he asked, without turning around.
“He was drunk,” Jocelyn said, adjusting her cuffs. “Tried to grab me. It was sad, really p>
Gaston turned, his dark eyes scanning her for any sign of injury. “Did he touch you p>
“No. He fell over his own feet p>
Gaston offered her his arm. “Let’s go home. You smell like his desperation p>
The morning sun sliced through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains of Room 808, hitting Kieran squarely in the eyes.