Page 44 of His to Possess
I stepped out into the cool night air, my eyes searching the dimly lit courtyard. A few guests milled about, enjoying cigars and quiet conversation, but there was no sign of her anywhere. I moved further out, circling the building, my heart pounding with a mix of anger and something that felt uncomfortably like fear.
Where are you, Laurel?
I pulled out my phone, ready to call her, when I spotted Tristan emerging from the gallery. One look at his face told me he'd had no luck either.
"She's not inside," he confirmed as he approached. "I checked everywhere, including asking the staff if they saw her. Nothing."
I cursed under my breath, running a hand through my hair. This wasn't like Laurel. She wouldn't just disappear without a word, not unless…
My blood ran cold as a new possibility occurred to me. August. Could he have done something? Taken her somewhere to protect her from me?
"We need to find her." I started moving back towards the entrance. "Now."
I spotted a familiar figure walking toward us, and relief washed over me as I recognized Laurel. My heart rate slowed, but concern quickly replaced the panic as I took in her appearance. She was unnaturally pale, as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Laurel, where have you been?"
She approached with hesitant steps. "I'm sorry, I… I suddenly had a terrible headache. I needed some fresh air."
I studied her face, not entirely convinced by her explanation. Something about her demeanor seemed off, but I couldn't quiteput my finger on it. Still, if she was indeed suffering from a headache, I needed to take care of her. Without a word, I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at me, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"Thank you," she murmured, pulling the jacket closer around her.
I turned to Tristan, who was watching our interaction with keen interest. "We're going to head out. Could you make our excuses to Luka?"
Tristan nodded, his expression unreadable. "Of course. I hope you feel better soon, Laurel."
"Thank you," Laurel replied, but something still seemed off.
I gently guided her towards the exit. As we walked, I could feel the tension in her body, the way she leaned slightly into my touch. It stirred something in me, a protective instinct I wasn't used to feeling.
Once we were outside, I signaled for the valet to bring my car around. As we waited, I found myself studying Laurel's profile in the dim light. She looked vulnerable, almost fragile, and it awakened an unfamiliar urge in me to shield her from harm.
I caught myself and inwardly cursed. What the hell was I doing? This wasn't like me. I didn't comfort. I didn't protect. I possessed. I controlled. And yet, here I was, acting like some lovesick fool.
This had to stop. I couldn't afford to let Laurel get under my skin like this. She was a possession, nothing more. A beautiful, intriguing possession, but still just another item in my collection.
As the car pulled up, I opened the door for Laurel, helping her inside. I circled to the driver's side, my mind racing. I needed to regain control of the situation and my emotions. I couldn't let Laurel see how much she affected me.
I slid into the seat, my resolve hardening. No more playing the concerned lover. It was time to remind Laurel, and myself, of exactly what our relationship was.
Chapter 16
Laurel
I woke up feeling like hell, so much that I pulled the covers over my head. My head pounded, and my sinuses felt stuffed. With a sigh, I turned myself into a ball, my body aching. It made me pay, and it felt like karma for lying to Rex the night before about exiting the vernissage without letting him know. I used the cover of having a bad headache and needing some fresh air. I hated lying, but I didn't know what else to do. I still didn't.
My throat itched, and a shiver ran down my spine. I sighed in defeat. These were the same symptoms I had when I returned to the States after Paris, just milder. This time, they hit me full force, which, if I was honest, was no surprise. Sleepless nights, money worries, career pressure, immense stress, Rex, August, and a demon from my past I had hoped never to see again.
I tried to swallow, but my throat felt like sandpaper. The ache in my muscles intensified as I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. It was useless. Every movement sent a new wave of discomfort through my body.
I knew I should get up, face the day and Rex. But the thought of confronting him, of navigating the minefield of his control and my deception, made me burrow deeper under the covers. The soft darkness was a temporary refuge from the chaos that awaited me outside this cocoon.
I tried to relax and maybe fall into sleep again, but my mind conjured up the face I had hoped to never see again. Alain. Alain De Lamalle. My heart constricted at that name. During the vernissage, I enjoyed myself immensely until someone touched my wrist and a familiar voice sounded in my ear. I turned to see Alain, smiling down at me, and my world froze.
Stunned, I lost my voice for a moment, the two of us alone in the dense crowd of the exhibition. All the emotions I had felt in Paris jumped in my throat: affection, admiration, love, trust, betrayal, agony, and despair. All were drowned by a healthy dose of anger and hate.
"Laurel, ma chérie. What a delightful surprise," he said as if my nightmare had never existed. He looked exactly like I remembered. His blonde hair had been slicked back, giving a clear view of his sharp facial features. His clean-shaven face bore a wide smile with an undertone of danger, only further confirmed by the look in his cold, hazel eyes.
