Page 104 of Dare To Live

“Unfortunate incident.” My voice is cold, sharp, grim.

“I know that sounds awful, Eli, but for people who weren’t there and didn’t live through it, that’s what it is. It’s been ten years. It’s time to find peace with what you went through.”

I cut the call without replying.

Go back to Churchill Bradley Academy? My heart rate increases at the thought of it and I break out in a cold sweat. I hate the thought of going back there.

But I hate the thought of Arabella being there more.

Chapter 57

Arabella

Taking a deep breath, I step into Monsieur Allaire’s office at his call. He’s seated behind his polished mahogany desk with sketches and rough drafts strewn over the surface.

He frowns at me. “What do you want?”

I stiffen my spine. “I need to take some time off. It’s a personal matter.”

“No.”

“But—”

His lips press together in a thin white line of disapproval. “You need to finish those other designs for the collection, Mademoiselle Gray. There is no time for you to go off and play.”

“I’ve finished most of them. I’m sure Grace can do the rest.”

“I did not ask her for them. I asked you.”

“I need the time off. It’s important.”

For the millionth time, I wonder how I let Ivan talk me into this. Miles isn’t happy about it either, but his fiancé is good at getting what he wants.

We’re about to walk back into hell, but at least we’re going together. I’m still not sure I’m ready to face those gates and everything inside.

Damn Ivan for being so persuasive.

“Oui, oui, it is always important.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You flit off like a butterfly to New York for an art exhibition. Spend Christmas there with friends.”

Marcel’s words catch me off guard and it takes a second for them to register. When they do, tension unfurls inside me. “How do you know what I was doing? I never told anyone in the office where I was going.”

My boss shrugs. “A guess.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“There’s no way you just guessed that.”

He meets my wary gaze with hard eyes. “You spent time with Ivan Vasiliev.”

“You know Ivan?”

Marcel doesn’t reply.

“I’ll ask him, then.” I reach for my cell.

“Ivan and I used to date.” His admission is thrown out from between clenched teeth.

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