She Was Coming

The phone on the nightstand wouldn’t stop ringing.

Julian rubbed his face and answered.

“Dad.”

Richard noticed something wrong with his voice.

“What’s the matter with you? Didn’t sleep? Don’t forget it’s Monday.”

Monday.

The day the Duchess of Talworth was flying in to discuss our partnership.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Julian rubbed between his brows, looking exhausted. “You heard the police found Stella?”

“How could I miss it?” Richard’s voice was cold and impatient. “It’s all over the internet. Apparently, she’s been tortured beyond recognition. They even cut out her tongue.”

He had time to read gossip online.

He couldn’t be bothered to visit the hospital and look at me himself.

To him, his adopted daughter mattered less than a potted plant in his office.

“Yes. The doctors aren’t sure she’ll ever wake up.”

“Even if she does, she’ll be useless.” Richard sounded angry. “Ungrateful little bastard. Couldn’t she have waited a few days to get herself into trouble? She had to pick the moment the duchess was coming.”

His curses no longer stirred anything in me.

Every one of them was a cold-blooded animal.

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve reviewed all the project documents. Stella saved the duchess’s life, and I’m Stella’s husband. I think she’ll give me a chance for her sake.”

Richard had no better solution.

“That’s all we can do for now. Get to the office. Her plane arrives in two hours.”

“I’ll get ready and come straight over.”

After hanging up, Julian took a cold shower.

His skin was pale to begin with. Now he looked almost ill.

In his dressing room, he deliberately chose cold gray tones. A charcoal cashmere sweater beneath a business suit in the same shade.

He left his stubble unshaven and his hair unstyled.

The man in the mirror looked exhausted and full of sorrow.

Gavin arrived to collect him.

At the sight of him, the assistant frowned with concern.

“Try not to take it too hard, sir. At least they found your wife.”

He thought Julian looked this way because he was suffering for me.

Julian patted his shoulder.

“I’m all right. Let’s go.”

His voice sounded weak. Brave.

But I saw the flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

It made me sick.

He had done this deliberately.

The gaunt, devastated appearance was for the duchess.

Make her pity him. Win her sympathy. Then take the deal.

Playing helpless was what he did best.

It was how he had fooled me for years.

There was a helipad on the roof of Whitmore Group’s headquarters.

The senior executives and the entire Whitmore family gathered to await the duchess’s arrival.

Pearl wore an immaculate Chanel business suit and carefully applied makeup.

In her hands was a blue velvet presentation box.

Presumably, a gift for their guest.

Vivian leaned close and whispered instructions.

“Make a good impression. She isn’t just a duchess. Before she married, she was a princess of Aldoria. If she takes a liking to you and treats you as a daughter, you’ll have access to the very highest circles.”

Her voice was full of anticipation.

“Any man you choose from there will be royalty, titled nobility, or the heir to an immensely wealthy old family.”