Page 37 of The Deal

When I reach my bed, I bend and gently lay her on the covers. The moment I release her, she curls her body into a tight ball. I don’t enjoy seeing her so broken, especially knowing I’m the person responsible for it.

Heading into the bathroom, I grab a clean washcloth and run it under the cold water before wringing it out. I stalk back to the bed and sit on the side of the mattress, my movements slow, careful not to startle her. With a softexhale, I lift the cloth to her tear-stained cheek, trying to wipe away the evidence of her pain.

My free hand sweeps the hair from her forehead before tracing the curve of her jaw. My touch is as tender as I can manage, and for a moment, I just let the silence speak for me. It’s the only way I can show her I’m here … that I’m sorry without actually expressing the words aloud.

Chapter 13

Alexander

The light sedative the doctor gave her took effect quickly. Within minutes, her breathing evened out, and she slipped into a deep sleep.

After he left, I carefully removed Chloe’s shoes, stripped down to my boxer briefs and climbed in beside her. I pulled her into my arms, tucking her close against me, the warmth of her body grounding me in the chaos.

She’ll need to go to the clinic in the morning to have her wrist X-rayed to determine whether it’s broken. The doctor bandaged it before he left, stabilising it as best he could until then.

Since we returned, she hasn’t spoken a word, and her silence is eating away at me. The decisions I’ve made regarding her are like a heavy weight on my chest. I’m anxious, wondering what tomorrow will bring. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re only at the beginning of whatever this is, and I don’t know if I’m ready for what comes next.

Chloe thinks I brought her here for selfish reasons, and in part, she’s not wrong. But once I found out who she actually was, the true gravity of her situation, and our past connection, my perspective shifted.

There’s so much more she doesn’t understand.

I want to give her a chance at a better life, to make up, even if just a little, for the hurt my father unknowingly caused her.

Theodore is far from innocent in this entire mess. His actions are what started this clusterfuck, and naturally, my old man took advantage of that. It’s what he does. He’s a master at spotting vulnerabilities in others, always scheming for ways to exploit their weaknesses for his own gain.

It’s unfair that Chloe—or Angelina, for that matter—have had to bear the consequences of our fathers’ actions. They shouldn’t be the ones paying for their mistakes.

I open my eyes to the soft glow of morning light flooding the room. It was dark when I finally fell asleep, so I know we slept through the night. Chloe is still nestled against me, wrapped tightly in my arms.

I don’t know what time it is, but I know my day should have started hours ago. I’m usually in my home gym, working up a sweat well before the sun rises.

I’m taking a rare morning off. I’ll go with Chloe to the clinic for her X-ray, whether she wants me there or not. She may not see it yet, especially given how I’ve treated her so far, but I want to be there for her.

I can’t afford to let her slip away again. If I’m going to make this work, I need to be patient and play my cards right. I have to figure out how to win her over without revealing my true intentions.

There’s no quick fix, so I have to brace myself for the long game, and I can only hope I have the patience to see it through. Since she’s been here, Chloe’s behaviour tells me she won’t make this easy.

I carefully slide my arm out from under her neck, doing my best not to disturb her. I’ve heard her up late most nights when I head to my room, so she likely needs the rest.

I expect to find her still curled up on my bed when I step out of the bathroom, a white towel loosely wrapped around my waist, another in my hand as I scrub it through my thick, damp hair. But to my surprise, she’s gone. Panic—no,fearmight be a better word to describe my feelings.

Will this bullshit never end?

Dropping the towel in my hand onto the floor, I tug off the other as I rush back into my dressing room, yanking a pair of jeans off the hanger and slipping into them quickly. There’s no time for underwear—she could be anywhere by now.

“Carmella,” I call out as I descend the stairs two at a time.Fuck.When I get no answer from her, I break into a jog, heading straight for the kitchen, which is inconveniently positioned at the rear of the house.

“Carmella,” I breathe out breathlessly as I round the corner. “Have you seen …” My words trail off when I spot Chloe sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping on a cup of coffee like she hasn’t a care in the world, while I’m left feeling like I just lost a few more years off my life.

“Morning, Mr Mancini,” Carmella says with a smile, flipping something in the pan on the stovetop. “Have I seen what?”

“Umm …” I scratch my head, scrambling for an excuse. “My … uh … gold cufflinks. I think I left them in the pocket of my suit trousers.”

“Oh. I haven’t seen them, but I can check with the dry cleaner if you like.”

“Great … thanks.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee? Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

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