Having just gotten Liora to sleep, Christian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, lost in thought.
Then, out of nowhere, Hazel came to mind, back home, alone.
A lump formed in his throat. He turned to his assistant and asked quietly,
"Has... my wife eaten?" His voice betrayed more concern than he'd intended.
"She needs to eat, or her stomach will act up." Grace, the assistant, hesitated, standing a respectful distance away. "Mr. Blake, you reassigned all the staff when you left for here. I’m afraid... I don’t know how Mrs. Blake is doing."
Christian went still.
He’d brought everyone, for Liora.
He should’ve left someone. Anyone.
If Hazel’s stomach flared up now, there wouldn’t even be anyone to bring her a glass of warm water.
The thought cut through him.
He pressed his fingers
