Page 83 of We Three Kings

Despite the ruckus in the conference room as the team yells out updates, the chime of a message rings through the commotion. I swipe the cell off the table and scan the text.

Dad:Seraphina’s upset. Said she’s sick but it’s our situation. We’re heading to her apartment.

God damn it. I knew my father would fuck up everything with Seraphina.

I jump to my feet and storm to my office. Some of the voices quiet. They’re as surprised as I am that I’m leaving in the middle of our kickoff to the season.

Hell, I’m shocked too. But the thought hits me hard. None of that means shit if I lose her.

I tap her name and jam the phone to my ear. One ring and then voice mail. Fuck!

Me:Are you okay angel? What’s going on?

Nothing.

My secretary stares at me as I jet past her desk. “Is everything all right Mr. Wiseman?”

No. Everything is fucking not all right. “If there’s an emergency, have Ezekial call me.”

I don’t wait for a response. Bypassing my private elevator, I sprint down the steps to the parking lot. I’m in my car and on the street in less than two minutes with twenty more needed to get to her.

I love my Dad, but if he gets in my way of making Seraphina mine, this sharing bullshit ends. I will not lose her because of him.

Despite the commute, I still beat them to her place. I let myself in and feel the emptiness without her here.

Not just the apartment but myself. Incapable of comprehending, I don’t understand how she’s ingrained herself in my life so quickly and so deeply.

Minutes drag like hours until her door finally opens. My angel looks like she’s in shock with a drawn expression and pale skin. My father looks like he’s back to his old self again, buzzing with an energy he lost three years ago.

I realize he’s not letting this go. Not lettinghergo.

The fight is on to keep either of us from losing her.

Especially when her little palms flip up as I approach her. “Don’t deny me, angel.”

In submission, she lowers her arms so her hands are at her waist, yet they remain upright in protective mode.

Which fucking kills me that she thinks she needs to protect herself from me.

“I…I just want to lie down.” Her arms wrap around herself, creating even more of a barrier. “By myself. I’d like to be by myself please.”

A growl rumbles in my father’s chest. “No.”

And he accuses me of being too impulsive. We need finesse in this situation. “What he means is we can give you some space, but you have to tell us what’s wrong first.”

No way in a million years am I leaving. Hopefully, the appearance of a compromise will appease her. I force calmness to my tone. “We need to know why you’re upset.”

She clenches her eyes shut. “It’s nothing. I just don’t feel well.”

Lie. I hate to force her hand, but I have no choice. “Then I’ll take you to the doctor.”

Her eyes blow wide, and she shakes her head frantically, not wanting to inconvenience anyone. “It’s not that kind of sickness.”

“Then what kind is it? I promised you I would always take care of you, and I mean it. You need to tell me.”

When her body curls into herself and she steps back hitting the wall behind her, I’m afraid she’s going to collapse. “Please angel.”

“It’s too embarrassing. I can’t say it….”

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