Page 24 of Broken Bonds

Yes, Hadley Weston, his assistant, whom I met a few days ago.

“Well, it’s time to work,” says Lionel, rubbing his hands together. “After all, I got a wife to have and to hold, right?”

Chapter 9

“Here, we are!” Lionel announces, patting me on the leg as if I hadn’t seen the white house in front of us. His smile lights up everything. These last few days, I’ve noticed many of his quirks. The way his eyebrows knit together when he’s studying his documents or the way he closes his eyes before answering to something important.

The house is stunning. It’s not the stereotypical millionaire home that appears on TV, but it’s still pretty big, and is located on top of a hill surrounded by beautiful, meticulously kept landscaping.

“Here we are,” that’s the only thing I can think to say.

It’s past noon and the sun is beating down on us. My hands are sweating, so I have to wipe them several times on the cotton fabric of my dress.

I’m nervous. The last few days have been a revelation. We talked a lot and figured out a plan for what would happen after receiving the green light to go home.

One of my conditions for not returning to Carrollton was that I would start studying for the SATs. It was non-negotiable and I was determined not to keep pushing it off any longer.

Lionel surprised me calling his assistant. As if by magic, not only one but four books materialized in the hospital room, plus notebooks, highlighters, pencils, and many other supplies. For a moment I felt like a schoolgirl about to start the school year. That was a refreshing change, because the other times I tried to talk to Lionel, he wouldn’t even let me plead my case.

Mrs. Kral almost had a heart attack when she found out I didn’t have plans to return to the hellhole I came from—her words, not mine—my mother-in-law has no problem expressing her opinion. Lionel respectfully told her that while he appreciated her concern, he’s a married man and his place is next to his wife. That ended the argument.

When it came down to my mother, she was quite pleased, because in her mind, the place of a wife is always next to her husband without question. She didn’t even put up a fight about having to take care of my bees. I didn’t want to ask her to make soaps. Although, I did insist that if she needed an extra hand, she could call Valerie. Still, Lionel intervened immediately, saying that he would take care of the salary if she wanted to hire somebody.

Ethan went to the hospital every day, but I haven’t seen Alexandra again, since one of her daughters hasn’t been feeling well and she had to do a double shift. Not to mention she’s also the director of a major PR firm in the city. A girl boss and, for me, an inspiration.

Nothing is impossible for the one who believes. So, I need to start studying.

The rest will come later.

Lionel and I keep looking at each other, neither of us wanting to break contact, until the driver opens his door to help him out. He’s fine, considering what happened, but a sling still immobilizes his arm. Although he still mostly rests, he’s required to do some exercises every night, and in a couple of weeks, he will start PT.

The physiotherapist at the hospital recommended a couple of colleagues who make house visits and we’ve already contacted one for an interview. Security around the house was also organized, although Lionel was stubborn about not having anyone inside, so Ethan had installed a state-of-the-art security system. In his own words, it’s top-notch.

Besides, the property is located within a private gated community, which can only be accessed by passing a security check.

And now here we are, in front of the home where my husband lives.

Lionel gets out and waits for me to do the same. One of the security details keeps the door open allowing me to get out of the SUV.

“I hope you like it,” Lionel mutters as we climb the steps that lead to the entrance. The door is red and has a glass panel on each side. It makes a lovely contrast to the gray wood planks of the walls and the white trim.

The house looks like something out of a fairy tale.

“Under the circumstances,” he says with a grin. “I hope my wife will forgive me for the fact that I won’t be carrying her as we crossed our home threshold for the first time.”

And my jaw drops to the floor.

I don’t know what surprised me more, the fact that he considered taking me in his arms or that he called this our home.

This is a joke, I tell myself. Look at the man’s face, of course, he’s joking.

I decide to put on the pink-tinted glasses I’m seeing the world through right now and joke around with him too.

“Well, kind gentleman, open the door then. I’m getting old here.”

Lionel enters a code on the small panel. A green light appears, and I gasp as the door swings open with a soft click, revealing a grand entrance that takes my breath away. The house is much more than I imagined when I saw it from the outside. It’s spacious and luxurious, with gleaming wooden floors, high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings, and large windows that let in an abundance of natural light.

But despite its beauty, there’s something unsettling about the emptiness of the house. No furniture or decorations adorn the vast rooms, making it feel cold and lifeless. Doubts and mistrust flood my mind once again. This could all be a ploy to deceive me. After all, I’ve seen my fair share of tricks and scams. With his wealth and influence, Lionel could easily hire someone to rent or even buy a property for him. Does he really think I’m naive enough to believe his lies?

---