Beauty for the Beast Chapter 09

Beauty for the Beast Chapter 09

Over the next few days, we kept pretending. Professional distance, kept carefully in place. He orders, I followed them. He looked through me, and I looked right past him.

But the cracks were already showing.

He’d glance at my coffee cup when he thought I wasn’t looking, checking if it had gone cold.

Extra blankets appeared from housekeeping before I ever asked.

He’d wait until I was in the car before having his men wheel him out into the rain.

Every time, it broke me open a little more.

Vivian showed up before the week was out.

She swept into the hotel suite like she owned it, a flash of red against the muted decor.

“Julian, why is she still here?” Vivian jabbed a finger at me.

Julian didn’t look up from his tablet. “She’s my assistant.”

gave

“I could have ten replacements here by tomorrow. Prettier ones, too.” Vivian flashed me a smile that was all teeth. “No offense.”

I kept my eyes on the glass I was polishing.

“I don’t need a new one,” Julian said.

Vivian’s smile froze. “Fine, suit yourself.”

“Listen, my father is hosting a reception tonight. The Romanos will be there. You need to show your

face.”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “I’ll be there.”

Vivian left, but not before throwing me one last look. It said everything it needed to.

Julian didn’t come back until after midnight. I was in my room, reading, when my phone buzzed.

His head of security. “Miss Rossi? The Boss has had too much to drink. We need you down here.”

I found him slumped in the back of the Mercedes, head against the window.

… –

I helped the guards get him into the wheelchair and pushed him back to his suite.

The door clicked shut, and he stirred. “Elena.” That name again.

I crouched beside him. “You’re drunk. Let me help you to bed.”

His hand closed around my wrist-not hard, but certain.

“Why did you leave?”

Every muscle in me locked. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“I’m not drunk.” He opened his eyes. Bloodshot, but sharp. Focused. Completely, terrifyingly sober

“I knew it was you, Elena. I knew it from the first day.”

“The shampoo.” His voice was low. “You’re still using that cheap coconut one from CVS. I smelled

it the second you walked through my door.”

“The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous. The way you flinch when I raise my voice.” His grip tightened. “It was you. It was always you.”

He pulled himself upright. “Did you really think a few scars could make me forget the woman I’ve loved since I was sixteen?”

The tears came. I couldn’t stop them.

“Elena.” His voice cracked. “I searched for you for months. I wrapped my damn car around a tree trying to find you. Do you have any idea what it cost me?”

—

“I woke up in a hospital, paralyzed, and you were just gone!

“I thought you hated me.” I could barely get the words out.

“I tried,” he said. “God, I wanted to.”

“But then you walked back in with that terrible ID photo and that stubborn chin, and the only thing I

\ felt was relief. Because you were alive.”

His thumb brushed a tear from my cheek. “Do you have any idea what you put me through?”

I shook my head and cried even harder.

“Did

you

think I cared about this?” His fingers drifted across my scarred cheek, barely touching.

“I don’t care. I never did. All I want is you.”

He pulled me down into his lap. I buried my face in his neck and couldn’t stop shaking.

I buried my face in his neck and couldn’t stop shaking.

“Don’t leave me again.” His mouth was against my hair. “Please. I won’t survive losing you twice.”

I held on to him like he was the only solid thing left in the world. My heart was breaking and mending at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out broken. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he said. “I know.”