Chapter 83
Chapter 83:
June walked to the closet and pulled out a high-necked, long-sleeved navy silk shirt. She put it on carefully, the thick fabric hiding the medical bandages on her back and shoulder perfectly. She grabbed her leather briefcase, pushed open the heavy suite door, and stepped into the hallway. She needed the business center on the first floor to print the clinical data for the new cancer drug.
At the far end of the corridor, the VIP elevator doors slid open.
Cole and Alycia stepped out.
Cole wore a dark, custom-tailored suit, tie missing, eyes bloodshot, jaw tight with the heavy fatigue of a hangover. Alycia had both hands wrapped around his right arm. When she spotted June walking toward them, she pressed herself closer to his side. A smug, victorious smirk crossed her face.
June kept her expression completely blank. She didn’t slow her pace.
𝖠dd𝗂𝘤𝘁𝘪v𝖾 ѕ𝘵o𝗋ies o𝗇.сom
She walked straight toward them, her eyes passing right through Cole’s chest as though he were a transparent ghost haunting the hallway. She moved past them without a word.
Cole’s boots stopped.
The absolute, freezing indifference radiating from her struck him like a physical wall. His chest tightened. A spark of irrational anger flared in his stomach.
He turned his head and looked at her back — at the high-necked shirt. He wanted to open his mouth. He wanted to demand to know if the blisters had worsened, if the pain had gotten worse overnight.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. The words stuck in his throat.
He wrenched his arm out of Alycia’s grip and took two massive strides down the hallway, reaching out to grab June’s wrist. He needed to spin her around. He needed to make her look at him.
“June!” Cole barked.
June stepped into the elevator and pressed the lobby button. She turned around and looked at his outstretched hand, then up at his furious, flushed face.
Her expression didn’t change.
The heavy metal doors slid shut, cutting off his voice and locking his face out of her sight.
Cole stood frozen in the hallway, hand still suspended in the air. The vein at his temple throbbed. The anger consumed his logic entirely. He spun around, ignoring Alycia’s confused whine, and marched toward June’s open suite door, intending to wait inside and demand answers the moment she returned.
He stepped into the doorway. The room was empty. A housekeeping maid stood by the coffee table, pulling a clear plastic trash bag from the metal bin to tie it off.
“Where is she?” Cole demanded, his voice filling the quiet suite.
The maid startled. “S-sir! Ms. Erickson has already left for the day. I’m just clearing the trash p>
Cole’s gaze dropped to the clear bag.
Sitting at the very top, perfectly visible under the bright room lights, was the shattered black porcelain jar. The white cream was smeared with dark, filthy coffee grounds.
His pupils shrank.
He knew that jar. He had forced his way into her room to put it on her skin. And she had thrown it away. Like rotting garbage.
A hot flush of humiliation burned the back of his neck. It felt like June had walked up and struck him across the face.