Page 86
Story: The Merciless Don's Bride
“Of course. I’ll make chamomile. We could both use some.”
The tea does end up helping. I fall asleep to the smell of Cassie on my sheets and the hope that things will make better sense in the morning.
I gave her a night away from me. However, I don’t think I’m capable of giving her a life away from me.
***
When I ring the doorbell, the person who steps out is Cassie’s feisty raven-haired friend, to my utter disappointment. Maxine Grey stands in front of me, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to do with me. The woman is quite impressive. Bold, quick to action. I’m glad Cassie has her as a friend.
“Can I help you?” she questions.
“I’m here to see my wife,” I reply smoothly.
“It’s 9am in the morning, surely you have something better to do.”
“No. I can assure you nothing is more important than talking to Cassie right now. I need to find out what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
She scoffs, “Fix it? You think this is fixable?”
My brows furrow, “Can you just let me in so I can see her?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, “No.”
I let out a tired sigh, “Careful, Ms. Grey. I can break your door down if I wish to do so. Let’s not drag things out, alright?”
From behind her, Cassie appears through the front door. Seeing her is like a shock to my senses. It’s only been a couple of hours but I hadn’t realized how much I missed her. The sight of her eyes, the bow of her lips, the ridge in the middle of her forehead.
I think I just forgot. Just how beautiful she is to me.
“You have no diplomatic skills, Damien,” she states, disappointment teeming in her eyes. “Why is your first thought always t commit violence?”
My lips open and then successively close because I have no clue what to say to that. Cassie’s head hitches up as she looks at me, her lips pressed in a thin line.
“Well, at least you didn’t threaten to kill her,” she mutters.
“Why would I want to kill your friend? That serves me no purpose,” I manage to say, feeling like I’m on trial with the way both women are looking at me.
“Everyone has a purpose until they don’t anymore, isn’t it?”
My brow furrow as I take in the bitterness in her expression. I step forward towards her, and my heart stutters when she takes a step back, avoiding my touch. My fists clench, and unclench.
“Cassie, you need to talk to me about what happened. I need to understand.”
She shares a look with her friend and offers her a quick short nod. Maxine then sighs and withdraws, heading back into the apartment, shutting the door behind her and leaving us alone in the hallway.
“What happened yesterday?” I immediately ask.
“Nothing much. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I officially have millions of dollars of liquid cash and real estate, courtesy of my dearly departed father,” she replies dryly.
“I don’t give a fuck about that. Tell me what upset you.”
She doesn’t immediately speak. I watch as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, before closing the front of the dark blue knitted jacket she has on, seeking some measure of comfort.
“Cassandra,” I grit out. “I’ve been patient, haven’t I?”
She scoffs, “You left me alone for one night. I’m not a bird in a cage, Damien.”
“I never said you were,” I retort calmly, intent on not losing my cool. “Tell me what’s wrong. I won’t ask again.”
The tea does end up helping. I fall asleep to the smell of Cassie on my sheets and the hope that things will make better sense in the morning.
I gave her a night away from me. However, I don’t think I’m capable of giving her a life away from me.
***
When I ring the doorbell, the person who steps out is Cassie’s feisty raven-haired friend, to my utter disappointment. Maxine Grey stands in front of me, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to do with me. The woman is quite impressive. Bold, quick to action. I’m glad Cassie has her as a friend.
“Can I help you?” she questions.
“I’m here to see my wife,” I reply smoothly.
“It’s 9am in the morning, surely you have something better to do.”
“No. I can assure you nothing is more important than talking to Cassie right now. I need to find out what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
She scoffs, “Fix it? You think this is fixable?”
My brows furrow, “Can you just let me in so I can see her?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, “No.”
I let out a tired sigh, “Careful, Ms. Grey. I can break your door down if I wish to do so. Let’s not drag things out, alright?”
From behind her, Cassie appears through the front door. Seeing her is like a shock to my senses. It’s only been a couple of hours but I hadn’t realized how much I missed her. The sight of her eyes, the bow of her lips, the ridge in the middle of her forehead.
I think I just forgot. Just how beautiful she is to me.
“You have no diplomatic skills, Damien,” she states, disappointment teeming in her eyes. “Why is your first thought always t commit violence?”
My lips open and then successively close because I have no clue what to say to that. Cassie’s head hitches up as she looks at me, her lips pressed in a thin line.
“Well, at least you didn’t threaten to kill her,” she mutters.
“Why would I want to kill your friend? That serves me no purpose,” I manage to say, feeling like I’m on trial with the way both women are looking at me.
“Everyone has a purpose until they don’t anymore, isn’t it?”
My brow furrow as I take in the bitterness in her expression. I step forward towards her, and my heart stutters when she takes a step back, avoiding my touch. My fists clench, and unclench.
“Cassie, you need to talk to me about what happened. I need to understand.”
She shares a look with her friend and offers her a quick short nod. Maxine then sighs and withdraws, heading back into the apartment, shutting the door behind her and leaving us alone in the hallway.
“What happened yesterday?” I immediately ask.
“Nothing much. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I officially have millions of dollars of liquid cash and real estate, courtesy of my dearly departed father,” she replies dryly.
“I don’t give a fuck about that. Tell me what upset you.”
She doesn’t immediately speak. I watch as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, before closing the front of the dark blue knitted jacket she has on, seeking some measure of comfort.
“Cassandra,” I grit out. “I’ve been patient, haven’t I?”
She scoffs, “You left me alone for one night. I’m not a bird in a cage, Damien.”
“I never said you were,” I retort calmly, intent on not losing my cool. “Tell me what’s wrong. I won’t ask again.”
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