Chapter 3
913 Words
Ajax had only caught a glimpse of white and black when he pushed himself onto his elbow and stared at the door.
He blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision, but the more he tried to focus, the worse the hammering in his head became.
How much had he drunk last night? He couldn’t remember s**t. Every muscle in his body ached as if he had run a marathon all night.
Just as he flung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor, grimacing at how ice-cold the tiles had gotten overnight, someone barged into the room and screamed at the top of their lungs.
“What the f**k did you do?” Vincent yelled harshly, sounding furious. “I just saw Noémie rushing out of the mansion. What the hell happened?”
Instead of addressing his brother’s rudeness, Ajax tensed the hard muscles of his face and sank his head into his hands. “Calm down, goddammit!” he growled, his shoulders jerking awake. The horrible hangover made him feel as if his head would explode if he didn’t do something about it soon. “Hand me some ibuprofen. Right now.”
Despite wanting nothing more than answers, Vincent exhaled defeatedly and looked around the room. It was a mess, reeking of sweat and something else that made him even more nauseous. The way he had spotted Noémie dashing out of the mansion, it was obvious what had happened.
Disgust filled his chest as he bristled with pure anger. Storming into the bathroom, he yanked open the drawers. When he found what he was looking for, he returned with a tablet and tossed it onto the bed next to where his brother sat.
Ajax snapped an arm over his eyes when Vincent pulled the curtains aside, letting in the piercing rays of the sun. “What the f**k is your problem?”
Vincent ignored him. “Take the meds and come to the study. We need to talk.”
After his brother stormed out of the room, Ajax ran both hands through his hair. Clenching the strands, he tugged on them, trying to retrieve memories of the previous night. But all he could recall was a fuzzy face and a silky voice urging him for more.
And he had given her more, even more than he had ever given anyone.
Two months had passed since that night, and Ajax hadn’t been able to rest a wink.
Not only because Noémie Rochester was a hardworking employee who couldn’t be replaced by just anyone, but also because something strange happened in his chest every time he thought about what had occurred that night.
Five months before the incident with Noémie, he had lost his wife and unborn child in a car accident.
The news had broken him more than he wanted to admit. He might not have married Linda out of love, but she had become an important part of his life.
A few months after their marriage, she had conceived and was about to give birth to his child. He couldn’t have been happier. But then, the unthinkable happened. On her way to a doctor’s appointment, her car crashed, and neither of them survived.
Ajax had lost more than his wife and child that day—he had lost his family. The one that was supposed to be his and his alone.
After that incident with Noémie—a ruthless blow to whatever sanity he had left—in a fit of madness and rage, Ajax fired all the servants in his home. He couldn’t bear the sight of them, not even a single one.
He had grown so mad, so angry, so senseless, that his family had to convince him to see a psychiatrist. They were afraid he would do something to himself, and none of them would be able to save him.
After that night, Ajax had become angrier, more impatient, and somewhat dangerous to himself and those around him. He had grown unpredictable, his mood swings worse than ever. He fought with people left and right, yelled at everyone to leave him alone. When his temper rose, he would destroy his room and curse his own family for not letting him go.
He wanted to run, to escape, to hide where no one could find him.
He wanted to hurt everyone, so he became even crueler. He stopped going to the office and spent hours locked in his room, painting on the walls and leaving his art in the darkness once he was done. No one was allowed to disturb his haven—neither in his presence nor absence.
No one knew what to do with him. Not even Ajax knew what to do with himself. He had so much pent-up rage and pain building inside him that he wanted to scream at the world and smash it into pieces.
At the recommendation of his therapist, the Halest family began searching for Noémi Rochester, who, according to the doctor, was the only solution and explanation for Ajax’s volatility.
If there was anyone who could save him, it was the woman who was running away from him, whose life he had ruined, whose innocence he had stolen.
She was the only one who could save the heir of the Halest family.
The only one who could pull him out of his darkness.
And the entire Halest family was desperate to find her.
- Writer
