Chapter 8 - Belle
1289 Words
"I don't want you to go."
Leo's voice cracked around the edges, and it made something deep inside me twist in sadness.
"I know, baby." I knelt in front of him, straightening out the wrinkles in his little polo shirt. "But it's just for business. It’s a really huge project. Remember the old mansion I was telling you about?"
He would not meet my eye. Instead, he looked at the floor, his lower lip jutting out in a pout so heartbreaking that it nearly killed me.
"I can come with you," he said. "I'll be quiet. I promise, mommy."
"Oh, baby…" I held him close. His small body still nestled up against mine, and I inhaled his baby scent deeply. "You have to go to school, okay? You're learning all these great things. Like about raptor diets."
"And lawyers," he growled into my shoulder.
I laughed, though it stung my throat. I don’t think I could be happy right now when I had to leave my baby.
"I'll come visit, okay?” I told him, kissing his chubby cheeks. “And I'll call. And Auntie Sel is going to take such good care of you, aren’t you Aunty Sel?" I said, raising my head to look at Selena.
Selena didn’t respond for a while but then, “Oh,” she said. “I’m Aunty Sel. Of course boo. I got you.”
I shook my head at her antics.
Leo leaned back then, his beautiful eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You pinky promise?"
I extended my pinky. "Double lock," I whispered.
His little pinky enclosed around mine and then he whispered, "Don't forget me."
"Never," I said, dropping a kiss on his curls. "You're my entire heart."
---
By the time we walked into the kitchen, Selena was already making a bento-style lunch and scolding him as if broccoli were toxic waste.
"I swear to God, that if I catch one piece in the trash can once more, Leo—"
He poked her. "You said cussing is bad, Aunty Sel."
She blinked. "Touche, little man. Touche."
I gave her a look. "Thanks. For everything."
She shrugged me off. "You'd do it for me too, beauty,” she said, calling me by the pet name she’d given me. “And I also love the gremlin. He's mine now at this point, really."
"You say that every time," I laughed.
"Well, someday I’m going to make it official," she said.
I glanced at Leo, who was tightening the straps on his dinosaur backpack, and then back at her.
"I mean it, Sel. If anything—"
She cut me off with a sharp look. “No. No disaster planning. You’re coming back. You’re doing a thing. A big thing. And when it’s over, you’ll hug your son, cash your check, and we’ll go to Cabo for three days.”
“With margaritas?” I asked with a smile.
“Hell yeah,” she screamed. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth quickly, looking to check if Leo heard her. He didn’t as he was too busy playing with Dino, his raptor toy. “Hell yeah,” she whispered this time. “Pitchers with floaters and the works.”
I laughed.
But it didn’t make the knot in my chest loosen.
---
We dropped Leo off at school twenty minutes later and before I left, he pulled me into a tight hug. So tight I worried I'd snap in half. And then he let go, used his sleeve to clean his nose, and sprinted indoors.
Selena didn't say anything until I was buckled into the passenger side, clutching the door handle for dear life as if it were the sole thing keeping me intact.
"You okay?"
"No," I gasped. "But I will be."
She gazed at me, her sunglasses tilting down her nose. "Want to crash into something on the way there?"
I chuckled. "Maybe just graze a mailbox."
"You got it."
---
The Thornwell estate loomed before us like something carved out of memory. Even today, with ivy cascading off the side columns and the paint peeling in patches, it still commanded respect. Still appeared to have secrets between its walls.
The guard let us in. And there he was.
Cassian.
Standing on the grand steps like some cursed prince in a modern gothic novel. All black suit, sharp angles, and indifference.
“Morning, ladies,” he said, voice cool but crisp.
Selena raised her hand. “Morning, murder-face.”
I elbowed her.
“Behave, Sel,” I whispered.
“What,” she said. “He would be a really hot killer.”
Cassian’s gaze flicked to me. “We’ll begin walkthrough revisions in an hour. But first…”
He looked me up and down like he was inspecting a signature.
“You’re moving in today.”
I blinked. "What?"
He inched closer, and presented a long, thin envelope held out between his fingers, to me.
"This is the signed contract. Your room's ready and directions are inside in case you’ve forgotten your way around here. You'll be staying in the west wing. Separate from mine."
"I thought I had until next week," I told him, shocked at the unexpected turn of events.
"We moved the schedule up. My mother is hosting a fundraiser here in two days. And we need to have the illusion already in place."
I opened the envelope and saw the first several words. Sure enough, it was stamped, signed, and ready for a court of law to agree with.
One year.
Shared living space.
Public appearances.
Zero intimacy.
I looked up. "No advance warning? No talk? You just went on ahead with this?" For f***s sake I didn’t even want to agree to this s**t.
"No," Cassian's expression didn't change. "You had three days and since you didn’t say anything, I made the decision for you."
“That wasn’t your decision to make, Cassian,” I gritted.
“But what has been done, has been done,” he said with finality.
"Ok then. Well I didn't know you were hiring a moving truck."
"I wasn't,” he replied. “You'll have everything you need here. New wardrobe, toiletries. Whatever is missing, you can have it bought online."
"Can I breathe without asking?" I asked sarcastically.
Selena choked on the water she was casually sipping behind me.
His mouth curled up. "That's not covered under the contract. Yet."
Selena muttered something under her breath about "micromanaging billionaires," and turned to me.
"I'll give you two a minute."
She strode towards the doorway, but not before mouthing ‘stab him’ once before disappearing into the foyer.
Cassian and I were alone.
Once again.
"You really don't waste time, do you?" I said.
"Time is expensive."
I crossed my arms. "And emotions are a liability."
He did not reply to that.
Instead, he said, "You'll have a team assisting in the renovation. I expect next week's media walkthrough to be perfect."
I took another step back. "I'm not your PR prop."
"No," he replied quietly. "You're my wife."
Even if it was only a name.
Even if it was a lie.
The word resounded in my chest like the crash of a warning bell. I didn’t want to think of how much I wished that to be true.
"I need air," I said, retreating.
Cassian didn't reach out to hold me back. He only nodded once, swift and impassive, and walked towards the estate as if he was already shucking me from his notice.
But I did see it—briefly.
That flicker of his jaw. The slight stiffness of his shoulders.
He was not as standoffish as he wanted me to believe.
And neither was I.
- Writer
