Chapter 78
Chapter 78:
“I don’t care if they’re the royal family. I want them picked up tonight. In front of their neighbors p>
At the Schneider estate, flashing blue and red lights cut through the darkness.
Police officers swarmed the hallway. They pulled Cory up from the sofa, ignoring his broken nose.
“You have the right to remain silent p>
“Mom! Dad! Do something!” Cory screamed as the cuffs clicked around his wrists.
Robert stood nearby, his face gray. “My credit cards… they’re declined. The business accounts… frozen. Access denied p>
𝘊𝗵𝗶𝘯e𝘴𝖾 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗅𝘀 t𝘳𝘢𝗇𝘀𝘭𝘢𝘵е𝘥 𝘰n
Elouise was hysterical, clutching her pearls. “You can’t arrest my son! This is a misunderstanding p>
“Gaston Collins pressed charges,” the officer said, shoving Cory toward the door. “And apparently, he owns your bank too p>
Robert dropped the phone. He looked around his opulent home and realized, with a sinking horror, that the true extent of Gaston’s power wasn’t just money. It was a weapon — and he had just pointed it at himself.
Back at the hospital, Gaston entered Jocelyn’s room.
It was quiet. The only sound was the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. She looked so small in the bed, hooked up to IVs and buried under heated blankets.
He sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair and took her hand. It was warmer now.
“I burned their world down for you,” he whispered into the silence.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
Jocelyn stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered.
“Gaston?” Her voice was a rasp, barely a sound.
Jocelyn blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Gaston was there. He was real. He wasn’t a hallucination from the hypothermia.
He sat up instantly at the sound of her voice. “You’re awake p>
He reached for a plastic cup of water with a straw. “Drink. Slowly p>
She took a sip. The water was cool and soothing on her raw throat.
“Did you… save me?” she asked.
“I found you,” Gaston said. A shadow of guilt crossed his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t faster. I’m sorry I left p>
“You came back from London,” she noted, taking in his disheveled shirt.
“I’ll always come back,” he said. His eyes were intense, burning with an emotion she was too afraid to name.
The atmosphere in the room shifted. It grew thick, heavy with unspoken things.
Gaston leaned in. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. His thumb lingered on her lower lip, tracing the curve.
Jocelyn’s heart raced — the monitor beeped a little faster. She felt a magnetic pull toward him, a desire to lean into his touch, to bury her face in his neck and never leave.
She leaned forward. Just an inch.
Then her brain rebooted.
He’s gay. He has a partner. This is gratitude. This is acting.
Panic flared in her chest. She couldn’t fall for him. It would ruin everything — break the contract, break her heart when he inevitably returned to his real life.
She pulled back sharply, flinching away from his hand.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.
Gaston froze, his hand hovering in the air. “For what p>