Page 57 of Owned By a Billionaire

“What happened with Crisp?”

He took a moment to respond, stroking my face while staring deeply into my eyes. “Nothing that’s worth spoiling this moment. You look so beautiful right now in the moonlight.”

I couldn’t help but smile, despite his evasiveness.

“Come, Caroline, let’s go to bed.” He rose, took me into his arms, and as his warm, soft lips met mine, that tawdry wedding reception slipped out of my consciousness.

The moon was full, the night was clear, and the bracing, salty air caressed my cheeks, reminding me that being in the arms of this mysterious, beautiful man was all that mattered.

That night, we made slow, tender love.

Cary kept stroking me and telling me how much he loved me, and that detestable wedding function became a distant memory, like a frightful illness that once healed is quickly forgotten.

The following morning, I woke from a long, sound sleep. Finding the bed empty, I assumed Cary was out and about organizing breakfast, as he often did, so that a tray would be by my side when I woke.

I smiled, thinking of his sweet words and tender lovemaking. Rey was right about the paradise I’d found. If it meant losing Elysium, that was a small price to pay for a life with Cary. The family was wealthier than ever, largely due to Declan and Ethan’s efforts.

When I discovered there was no breakfast or Cary, I showered and headed downstairs.

I ran into Janet along the way.

“Have you seen, Cary?” I asked.

“Um, he left earlier. Around eight. He was carrying a suitcase.”

“Oh?” I held her gaze while searching for words. “Did he say where he was going?”

“No, he just pecked me on the cheek and thanked me.”

My brows contracted. “Does he normally do that?”

She shook her head. “I mean, he’s normally grateful and very nice about things, but… no, I thought it odd.”

I let her be and went to get my phone, which I’d left in my office. When I arrived, I found an envelope with my name on it.

I regarded that envelope like it was a bomb about to threaten my life.

Picking up the phone, I called the kitchen. “Can you bring me tea?”

“Yes, certainly. Your regular breakfast with that?”

“No. Just tea.”

I took a deep breath and waited as I stared down at the envelope. My hands were shaking, and I could hardly breathe.

Janet brought the tea into my office and set it on my desk, while I held that envelope in my hand as though it was something to fear.

“Thank you. Could you close the door behind you?”

She nodded, giving me a sympathetic look. She knew. Janet had been with me for many years. She could read me well.

I took a deep breath and sipped tea, the cup trembling in my hand. I needed something stronger, so I poured a nip of whisky into the hot liquid.

It was something my foster mother used to do in anticipation of her evil husband. She’d give me one of her feeble smiles then place her finger on her mouth for me to remain nice and quiet. We both had to make ourselves invisible to avoid rousing the ire of that beastly man.

I ripped open the envelope, and the note fell out. With shaky fingers, I unfolded it and read:

Dear Caroline,

---