Page 15 of Sold to the Beret

I blink, and I find his direct gaze on me. “You haven’t been listening, have you?” he asks.

I sigh.

I shouldn’t have come to this meeting.

“I apologize, Theo. I’m a little preoccupied. I’ll text you the information on how to locate the chapel, and the time you’ll find the person you’re looking for. In regards to the new case, can we reschedule this meeting to another day? Maybe next week,” I offer.

“It’s alright. I’ll just tell my friend to wait till next week, and if he can’t, he’ll find another person for the job,” he assures.

“Good. Well, I’ll see you then,” I say, rising to my feet.

“You seem in a hurry. Is your wife waiting at home?” he teases.

A wide grin stretches my lips at the thought of Rose being my wife.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

“Yes,” I answer, laughing at the shock on his face. “Good to see you, Theo,” I call as I head out of the room.

I tell Jane, “Mr. Kane is rescheduling his meeting to next week. Make sure to ask him when will be most convenient for him.” I almost grin at her befuddled stare as I punch repeatedly on the elevator button.

In a few minutes, I’m striding out of the building and walking toward my car. I wonder what Rose is up to in my absence. I hope she’s not bored.

Damn.

I miss my princess. It’s a throbbing ache that refuses to go away, and one I’m sure only her presence can ease.

Chapter Eight

Rose

The house feels empty in Damien’s absence. It reminds me of how quiet it was back home before I left.

Before I was sold off.

I shake my head to dislodge the painful memory from my head. There’s no use thinking about what has already happened. Besides, it was a blessing in disguise for me. I got to leave my tormentor and meet my savior.

Damien stormed into my life like an avenging demon and gave me my wings back. I’m free for the first time in my life, and it feels…settling. I don’t have to hide who I am. My identity. My personality. He accepts it all, giving me room to flourish.

I go to stand before the large glass windows and look down at the busy street below. It’s a nice view. I never thought I would enjoy having a bird’s-eye view of the city like this, but I find it refreshing. I could get a book from the library as Damien suggested and sit by the windows…

Minutes later, I’m two pages in and the book is lying face down on my lap, forgotten. Instead, I find myself watching the road for the familiar Mercedes car that Damien drives. I miss him already and it’s making me restless. Several cars of the same model have gone past, and every time, my heart jumps in excitement only to be disappointed.

Maybe the idea to read by the window isn’t so great after all. I return the book to its rightful place and go back to sitting on thecouch. I can’t help but think about my mother in the resounding silence. What lie did Jared concoct to explain my absence? How far has her health deteriorated?

I should have just asked Damien for a phone and contacted her right away. I’ll ask him as soon as he returns. That way I can reassure her while still staying away from Jared. I might even find the courage to tell her about Damien, and how I feel about him.

My gaze roams around the living area and lands on the flat-screen television fixed to the wall. I reach out for the remote and switch it on, scrolling through the channels until it lands on the local news—I’m shocked to see a picture of my mother.

My heart races at the words I read on the screen.The shocking demise of the Beaumont magnate…

“No.” I shake my head. “No…”

I increase the volume.

“It’s been a week since the shocking death of the Beaumont magnate, Beatrice Beaumont. We mourn the loss of a leader in the industry, a founder of one of the largest companies in the city. She’s survived by her only child and daughter, Rose Beaumont, whom we haven’t seen or heard from since her mother’s demise, and her loving husband, Jared Fields. Information reaching us at this moment is that Beatrice Beaumont had been battling lung cancer for four years and had finally succumbed to it. The world mourns the death of a cancer warrior and financial wiz of the business world. On behalf of Beatrice, her husband and daughter pledge to start a foundation for survivors and patients of lung cancer in honor of her memory. May her soul rest in peace…”

There’s a loud ringing in my head. It gets louder the longer I stare at my mother’s picture on the screen. It’s a photo of herfrom before she got sick. She looked so healthy and carefree, with her long brown hair cascading down her shoulders and a wide smile. Then, Jared fills the screen, looking teary and depressed.

---