Chapter 79
Chapter 79:
“For ruining your trip,” Jocelyn babbled, her eyes darting around the room. “I’m so sorry… I messed everything up. You were supposed to be getting away — having a break. And I ruined it p>
The words hung in the air like a foul smell. The unspoken with him echoed in the space between them.
Gaston pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. He sat up straight, his expression hardening into a mask of stone.
“My break,” he repeated. His tone was flat, dead. “Right p>
“I’ll make it up to you,” Jocelyn continued, desperate to fix the mistake she thought she’d made. “I’ll arrange something else. A private yacht charter, maybe. Something even better p>
𝗔c𝘁і𝘷𝘦 c𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂𝗻і𝘁𝘺 𝗈ո
Gaston stood up. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the roots in frustration. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shake her. There is no one else. There is only you. Look at me.
But he couldn’t. Not while she was lying in a hospital bed, traumatized and fragile. Not while she looked at him with eyes full of fear — fear of him, fear of herself.
“Don’t worry about it,” Gaston said coldly. “Just rest p>
He walked to the window and stared out at the parking lot. He felt trapped. The lie he had constructed to protect his freedom had become the bars of his own cage.
“Gaston?” Jocelyn asked timidly, certain she had offended him by being a burden.
“I’m here,” he said without turning around. “Go to sleep p>
Jocelyn closed her eyes. A deep, aching sadness settled in her chest. She didn’t understand why it hurt so much to be right.
Gaston pulled out his phone and typed a text to Leo.
I hate this plan. I hate the rumors. I want to tell her.
Two days later, Jocelyn walked into the Wolfe Hotel.
She wore a high-neck silk blouse to hide the lingering pallor of her skin, and her makeup was applied with surgical precision. She shouldn’t have been there — the doctors had ordered bed rest — but she couldn’t stay in the apartment. The silence between her and Gaston was too loud.
Harvey met her at the elevator. He looked anxious.
“Boss,” Harvey said. “While you were… gone… Victor went wild p>
Victor. Uncle Vincent’s nephew. The twenty-two-year-old “Assistant Manager” who spent most of his time hitting on guests.
“What did he do?” Jocelyn asked, walking toward the executive suite.
“Vincent brought him back the day you were away,” Harvey clarified, his voice low. “Said he needed an extra pair of hands. The kid raided the VIP minibar stock. Drank three bottles of Dom. And he… he harassed a housekeeper. Grabbed her p>
Jocelyn stopped. Her eyes turned cold. The memory of the cellar — of Cory’s hands on her — was still fresh.
“Bring him to the conference room,” she ordered. “Now p>
Ten minutes later, Victor was lounging in a chair in the conference room, playing a game on his phone, his feet resting on the polished mahogany table. Uncle Vincent was there too, looking sweaty and nervous. He knew about the Schneider arrest. He knew the wind had changed.
Jocelyn walked in. Harvey closed the door behind her.