Her Fiancé's Father's Obsession

CHAPTER 14

Jane

The shower had been everything I needed. Hot water beating down on my frozen skin, washing away the rain and the grime and some of the numbness that had settled over me.

I stood under the spray until the water ran cold, letting it pour over me like some kind of baptism, like maybe I could wash away the last two days entirely.

But I couldn't.

Now I lay in the guest bed, wrapped in clean sheets that smelled like lavender detergent, staring at the ceiling as the city lights cast shifting shadows across the room.

My body was clean, warm and fed. I should be exhausted enough to pass out the moment my head hit the pillow, but sleep wouldn't come.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Hudson and Maribel tangled together in his bed, her skin against his, their bodies moving in a rhythm that should have been mine.

The image was seared into my brain, playing on repeat like some sick movie I couldn't turn off.

I turned onto my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me, but then I saw Hudson's face at the apartment today, that cold smirk as he f****d Maribel senseless.

The cruelty in his voice when he got me evicted from my apartment and fired me like I was nothing. Like I had never been anything.

A sob caught in my throat and I pressed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound.

I turned onto my other side, but that just brought images of Maribel, my best friend, moaning loudly as Hudson f****d her with that sly expression on her face.

She didn’t even look guilty, just inconvenienced that I had walked in on them. I couldn’t believe how incredibly stupid they made me look. They probably laughed about it behind my back.

The tears came quickly, soaking into the expensive pillowcase. I curled into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. As small as I felt.

I had lost everything. My fiancé. My best friend. My job. My home. Even my mother had turned her back on me, choosing to believe Hudson's lies over her own daughter.

I had nothing. I was nothing.

The walls of the beautiful guest room started closing in. The air felt too thin and I couldn't get enough oxygen into my lungs.

I gasped, my chest tightening with panic, and suddenly I couldn't stay in that bed for another second.

I threw off the covers and stumbled to my feet, my legs unsteady. I had changed into an old t-shirt and sleep shorts from my luggage, and I was dimly aware that I looked like a mess, but I couldn't breathe in that room anymore.

I needed space. Air. Something.

I opened the door as quietly as I could and padded down the hallway, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floors.

The penthouse was dim, lit only by the glow of the city through the massive windows and a single light coming from the living room.

I made my way toward it, my vision blurred with tears, and found Julius sitting on the couch with his laptop open on the coffee table.

He was still dressed in his pants and button-down shirt from earlier, though he had rolled up his sleeves.

His face was illuminated by the blue light of the screen, his expression focused as his fingers moved across the keyboard.

It must have been well past midnight. What was he still doing awake?

He looked up the moment I appeared in the doorway, and whatever he saw on my face made him close the laptop immediately.

He was on his feet before I could even process it, crossing the distance between us in three long strides.

"Jane." He said softly.

That was all it took. The sound of my name spoken with such gentle concern shattered what little composure I had left. My face crumpled and a sob tore from my throat.

Julius didn't hesitate. His arms came around me, pulling me against his chest, and I collapsed into him like a puppet with cut strings.

My fingers clutched at his shirt, fisting the fabric as I sobbed into his shoulder, my whole body shaking with the force of it.

He didn't say anything. He didn't ask questions or tell me it would be okay or offer empty platitudes. He just held me, one arm wrapped securely around my waist and the other hand coming up to stroke my hair.

His touch was gentle and soothing, his fingers running through the damp strands in a slow, steady rhythm.

I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a world that had turned to quicksand. My tears soaked through his shirt but he didn't seem to care.

He just held me tighter, his hand never stopping that comforting motion through my hair.

I felt his lips press against the top of my head, a soft kiss that somehow conveyed more comfort than words ever could.

Something about that simple gesture broke something loose in my chest, not in a painful way, but like a pressure valve releasing. I sobbed harder, my knees going weak, and Julius supported my full weight without complaint.

"I've got you," He murmured against my hair. "You're okay. I've got you."

Time became meaningless. I didn't know how long we stood there in his living room, me falling apart and him holding me together, but gradually, slowly, the sobs began to subside.

My breathing evened out and the shaking in my limbs calmed.

When I finally lifted my head from his shoulder, embarrassed by the wet spot I had left on his shirt, Julius's hand came to cup my face. His thumb brushed across my cheek, wiping away tears.

"Come on," He said quietly, guiding me toward the couch. "Sit down."

I let him lead me, sinking onto the soft cushions. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a crisp white handkerchief and sat down beside me. Not too close, but close enough that I could feel his warmth.

He handed me the handkerchief and I took it gratefully, pressing it to my swollen eyes. My face felt hot and puffy, my nose running, and I probably looked absolutely hideous, but Julius didn't look at me with pity or disgust. Just that same quiet concern.

He didn't ask. He just sat there patiently while I wiped my face and tried to collect myself enough to speak.

"I saw them again," I finally said, my voice hoarse and broken. "Today. When I went to get my things from the apartment."

Julius's jaw tightened, but he stayed silent.

"Hudson and Maribel," I twisted the handkerchief in my hands. "They were in bed together. Again. And he didn't even care. He got me evicted from my apartment."

"He kicked you out." Julius said quietly, his voice hard.

I nodded, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.

"He knows the owner of the building. Called in a favor or something. Had me evicted on the spot. I didn't even get a proper notice. I barely had time to grab what I could and leave."

My voice cracked. Julius reached out and took one of my hands in his, his fingers warm and strong around mine.

"He fired me too," I continued, the words tumbling out now like a dam had broken. "Over the damn phone."

I saw something flash in Julius's eyes, anger, maybe, or disgust, but he didn't interrupt.

"I worked for him for three years. I was good at my job. Really good, but he just threw me out like I was garbage. He cheated on me, got me evicted and fired me on the spot."

Julius's hand tightened around mine, his other hand curling into a fist against his thigh.

"I called my mom after that," I whispered. "I had nowhere else to go. I thought—I thought my mom would help me, but Hudson had already gotten to her. She took his side. She believed him. My own mother chose to believe him over me."

I looked up at Julius through my tears, my vision blurred. "She told me I couldn't stay there. Said if I didn't apologize to Hudson and try to fix things, she didn't want to see me. I’m her daughter, and she shut me out."

My voice broke completely. "He took everything from me. My job, my home, even my family. I have nothing left. I'm nothing."

Several expressions crossed Julius's face in rapid succession. Shock. Disbelief. Something that looked almost like pain, and then, settling over his features like a storm gathering strength, pure fury.

His grey eyes went cold and hard, his jaw clenching so tight I could see the muscle jumping. His free hand curled into a tight fist against his thigh, knuckles going white.

For a moment he looked almost dangerous, like something barely restrained was threatening to break free, but he didn't speak.

He just sat there, his hand still holding mine, his face a mask of carefully suppressed rage.