Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Chapter
Fourteen
Angelo
* * *
Roch waits in the parking lot of the hotel when I get back.
He straightens from leaning on the hood of his inconspicuous city car as I park and get out.
“I left the boat on the island.” He grunts. “It may come in useful.”
“Pack your stuff,” I say in passing him. “Make sure you’re on the next flight home.”
“Mr. Russo.” He runs to keep up. “I screwed up today. I’d like another chance.”
“You heard me. I don’t want to see your face again unless it’s on Corsican soil.”
I leave him standing there, too livid to look into his eyes. If Roch was any other man, I’d chop his hands off and throw him into the sea. The only reason he’s alive is that he’s a distant cousin of my mother, and she loved him.
I stalk to my room, order room service, and have a shower. The dinner arrives while I’m dressing. I opt for a casual suit and a fitted shirt. Wolfing down the food, I hardly taste the steak and grilled vegetables. After eating, I email a local security company with detailed instructions. I built a good relationship with the owner after researching them well. Even as I instructed Roch to watch out for Sabella, I already had a backup plan. A few, actually. I never do anything without a plan B, C, and D.
Once that’s in place, I do a quick check to see what’s circulating on the news about Edwards’s death. What I find is shocking, even to me. Edwards kept a mistress for years. He had a daughter with her who’s Sabella’s age. Daisy. He set his mistress and his illegitimate daughter up in a luxury mansion in Hout Bay and divided his time between the women. The mistress, an attractive blonde with style and class, has an arm around the waist of her daughter on the newspaper photograph that’s published on every internet news site.
Fuck me.
Edwards hid his infidelity well. My father warned me that Edwards was a snake, but Sabella’s father was much slyer than I took him for. I never saw the move he made to kill my father and me coming. If I had, my mother and sister would still be alive. For that, I’ll never forgive myself.
Sabella didn’t say a word about her father’s affair. I can only imagine how the news turned her already messed-up world further upside down. For that mess, we’re both responsible, she unknowingly and me very much consciously. For that chaos, I’m prepared. I have my own doctor on standby in Corsica. I have all my weapons lined up—tranquilizers, groveling, money, sex, and discipline. Even a lock and key if that’s what it will take.
But this? Edwards’s double life may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. No wonder she swam as if she was heading for Robben Island today. What she did concerns me. She almost fucking drowned herself. It worries me that I don’t have a plan for that.
Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, I head to the hospital. It’s way past closing time when I barge into the office of the attending doctor who treated Sabella. His secretary has long since knocked off for the day. He’s there though. He always works late. I had time to observe him when I sneaked into Sabella’s room at night.
“Mr. Russo.” He jumps to his feet. “My office is closed.”
“I know.” I cross the floor and take a seat at his desk. Pointing at his chair, I say, “Sit.”
He does so reluctantly. “If this is about the bill, the administration desk—”
“I already settled the bills.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose. “In that case, what’s the emergency?”
“I need to talk to you about Sabella.”
“Miss Edwards?” He folds his hands on the desk. “Discussing a patient is highly irregular.”
“I already told you, I’m her fiancé, and this concerns her welfare.”
“It’s preferable that she’s present.”
I smile. “Not going to happen. Do I need to remind you that I also made a significant donation to extend your ICU wing? How many beds will that add to your hospital?”
He clears his throat. “What would you like to discuss?”
“You read the reports from the psychiatrist.”
“The initial one after she was admitted and examined, yes. With regard to her treatment, I’m not privy to that information.”
I raise a brow. “Her treatment?”
He frowns. “Didn’t she tell you? Naturally, after what happened, I recommended psychiatric treatment. Left untreated, the trauma she suffered can only cause damage that may manifest in her behavior later.”
The bit about the treatment is news.
Concern creeps into his expression. “I hope she’s heeding my advice and seeing someone to help her deal with the trauma.”
“You know her diagnosis. Do you think she’s capable of suicide?”
He doesn’t as much as blink. “I’m not at liberty to discuss—”
“Her wellbeing is at stake.”
He searches my face. “Did something happen?”