Page 35 of The Consequence of You
“According to your housekeeper, she went to check on you around 10pm, and you weren’t in your room.” She flicked back through her notebook. “We looked through her call logs. Shecalled you several times. You didn’t answer. She called a few of your school friends.” I looked at Luca, tears blurring my vision.
He looked away, unable to make eye contact. That was the exact moment I realised it was my fault.
She was out looking for me.
She was dead because of me.
Our beautiful mother was gone.
Because of me.
There would be no coming back from this. My relationship with Luca was ruined. With Papa, too. They would never forgive me for this. I would never forgive myself.
I snuck around and lied, and it ruined everything. My actions destroyed our family.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ASHER
Christ this is dull. Even more so than the usual high society, charity functions I’m forced to attend. At least most of those have decent food and entertainment. Father was asked to attend the opening of a new exhibition at an art gallery on the far side of town, and as such, Mother had requested that both Sebastian and I attend. Our presence is required until we have at least watched the duke cut the ribbon. Until then, we’re expected to fulfil our dutiful role and represent the family. For my brother, that means schmoozing, but for me, eating my body weight in canapes should suffice. I swallow another one and consider how it can be that no matter how many you eat, they never fill you up.
The only part of the evening that’s turned out to be remotely interesting is the art itself. Some of it is rather beautiful. It’s by a selection of local artistswho, from the looks of it, are all pretty darn talented. As I study the next piece, it occurs to me that I rarely stand still and just appreciate something for its beauty. Life is so fast-paced.
I move to the next image, just as appealing, but nothing about the two are similar. There doesn’t appear to be any kind of formula the artist is following, and yet they both invoke a feeling of serenity. As I flick through the booklet that accompanies the exhibition, my ears prick up at the sound of a familiar voice.
There’s no mistaking who it belongs to. The very woman who has been occupying my every waking thought lately. I recall seeing some of her art displayed at the academy last year, so I know it’s an interest of hers. It’s quite the stroke of luck, her being here tonight. Unsurprisingly, she’d left me on delivered since last night and this saves me coming up with an excuse to see her again.
As I make my way over, I see she’s not alone. She’s standing with a man I don’t recognise. I assume it’s a new member of her security staff, as it’s not like her to court conversation at social events. However, when I get closer, I realise he’s too young to be on her family’s staff. He’s a similar age to us, and he’s standing far too close to be considered professional. The stranger is tall, with dark wavy hair almost meeting his shoulders. The quintessential Italian stallion, if you will.
I’m too far away to make out the topic of their conversation, but I can tell Callie is uncomfortable. The stiffness of her shoulders, and the subtle tremble of her hands has the hairs on my arms standing up. I’m about to make my presence known when a member of the waiting staff cuts in front of me with another tray of canapes. It forces me to hang back and I take the moment to get a better gauge on their dynamic.
The stranger touches her arm and something in my chest tightens. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to not walk over there and tear his hand away. His touch is light. Gentle, even. But the pain in Callie’s eyes is evident, even at this distance, and it makes my skin crawl.
In the background, I hear my father droning on mindlessly about the artists featured in the exhibition, but my focus is almost entirely fixated on the woman who has somehow buried herself under my skin.
I have no idea who this man is, or why he believes he has the right to touch her so casually, with a familiarity which can only mean they know each other.
I study him again, more carefully this time. He’s tall and towers over her petite frame. I put him around six feet, not quite as tall as me. Now I look closer, I’m sure he’s of similar age to us. He comes from money, that much is obvious. It’s the way he holds himself, with confidence and swagger. That, and the designer clothes. They’re casual, but the cut of his slacks, and his polished brogues scream fancy Italian tailoring.
They’ve been talking for at least five minutes now, and their conversation remains serious. Callie has a couple of tells. Repeatedly pushing her hair behind her ear. The nervous eyes darting around the room. The way she appears smaller. She’s usually undeniably fierce, but not around whoever this is.
Edging closer, I make sure to keep my body turned away from them. I want to hear what they’re discussing but I don’t want her to see me.
What has her looking so utterly shattered?
The man takes a step towards her, closing the gap between them and it has me forgetting all about my resolve to stay incognito.
Fuck staying in the shadows.
I stride towards them, swiping two drinks from a waiter’s tray as I go. As I approach Callie and the mystery man, she looks up. She meets my gaze, confusion evident, like she can’t quite understand why I’m here. You’d have to be pretty distracted to miss my father’s presence, and it’s almost like she’s forgotten where she is entirely.
The man assesses me slowly, dropping his hand from her arm. I step in close to her, offering her one of the glasses I’m holding.
“There you are, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Callie’s eyes shoot to mine with a flash of uncertainty, but she remains quiet, and I take that as an invitation to continue. Placing my glass on the table next to them, I put an arm around Callie’s waist, and offer my other in handshake to her companion. It’s a bold move considering I can’t be sure this guy isn’t her boyfriend, or maybe even a family member.
The only thing I can be sure of is, she’s not comfortable with him in the way she is with me, as rather than shirking away, she melts into my side. She tucks herself against me in a way that feels so natural, it’s hard to believe she wasn’t created for the sole purpose of fitting exactly here.
