Page 126 of Code of Heart
Now it was too late.
The moment that scalding envelope burned his hands, every dream of fixing things—of fighting for her—turned to ash.
Levi didn’t remember walking inside. Didn’t remember sitting on the couch. Someone spoke to him, but the words didn’t land.
A hand rested gently on his shoulder, trying to pull him back from wherever he had fallen…he couldn’t feel it.
Someone knelt in front of him, their voice breaking with urgency, but it barely registered. He stared through them, eyes dull and unfocused, as if sound, light, and meaning had all drained from the world.
He was just…
Gone.
CHAPTER 52
Owen
Levi was destroyed. He hadn’t spoken in hours and hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch since the moment they walked through the door.
He sat there like a man carved from stone, eyes dull and unfocused, staring into nothing. His expression was bleak and devoid of life.
Hopeless.
Owen stood nearby, helpless and pacing with no idea what to do. He had seen Levi down before, but never like this. He made his feelings about how Levi handled the entire situation perfectly clear, but it didn’t mean he wanted to see his oldest friend in such a state.
This wasn’t the fallout from a difficult day or a rough breakup. This was a complete internal collapse. Owen was genuinely starting to wonder if Levi would ever come back from it.
Being served divorce papers right after losing the company—his life’s work? That wasn’t merely a low blow; it was a death sentence to whatever hope Levi had been desperately clinging to.
Owen’s phone buzzed, slicing through the suffocating silence. He glanced down and immediately answered the incoming call from Charles Pierce, the tension in Owen’s chest loosening a bit at the familiar name.
“Mr. Voss,” Charles greeted, his voice calm but laced with sorrow. “I apologize for the timing of this call. I saw the news…and what happened today. I’m truly sorry for the injustice you and the others are enduring.”
“Thank you, sir,” Owen said somberly, glancing again at Levi, still unmoving and unblinking. “It’s out of our hands now. One step at a time, right?”
He tried to sound hopeful but failed miserably.
Charles exhaled heavily on the other end. “I’ll be brief. First, I was hoping you might have time to come to the manor tonight. Our security team has gathered all the footage for the police, but I’d like your eyes on it before we turn it over. I haven’t reviewed it yet, but I trust your instincts.”
Owen was already grabbing his keys, motioning to Isaac that he was heading out. Isaac frowned but gave a reluctant nod when Owen mimed a texting gesture.
“I’m on my way now,” Owen confirmed.
“Good.” Charles paused. His next words came quieter, more hesitant. “The only other reason I called…How’s Levi?”
Owen briefly paused in the doorway, his heart heavy as he turned back for one last look at his friend. Levi sat exactly where he had left him—lost and unreachable.
“Not good,” Owen admitted roughly, as he slid into the driver’s seat of his car. “He’s…checked out, Charles. Completely. He hasn’t moved in hours. Hasn’t spoken or acknowledged anyone. It’s like…” His throat tightened painfully. “It’s like he died inside, and his body’s now waiting to catch up.”
For a long stretch, Charles said nothing. Owen put his car in gear, the call connecting to the stereo system as he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed to the manor. Finally, the older man spoke again, his voice softer but weighted with unspoken meaning.
“It’s not my place to interfere,” Charles began carefully, “but I would encourage you, and the others, to spend time with Aurelia. Convince her to at least talk to him. I’ve advised her, as gently as I could, that no matter how this ends, some things should be said before the silence becomes permanent.”
Another pause.
“My unofficial legal advice?” Charles continued. “Tell Levi not to sign those papers. Not yet. Hold out as long as he can. Sometimes people don’t realize what they’re truly ready for…until it’s too late. I’ll see you shortly.”
The call disconnected before Owen could respond.
