Yann quickly sensed the calculating gaze fixed upon him.
His eyes darkened, and a subtle chill crept into his tone.
The person on the other end of the line, sensing a misstep, assumed they had upset him. In a flurry of nervousness, they cut the conversation short and hung up.
Yann slipped the phone into his pocket and walked on.
Behind him, Valerie tugged at Cheryl, keeping close as she lowered her voice, plotting.
“I’ll find a way to cross paths with him. Men can’t resist a woman in distress. Looking like this? He’s bound to feel sorry for me. I’ll play the helpless victim. You trail him and get his license plate, got it?”
“Got it. But… your face…” Cheryl hesitated, words catching in her throat.
Valerie’s face had swollen further, her former beauty now entirely obscured.
Had she not been her own daughter, Cheryl might not have recognized her.
Still, she held on to a glimmer of hope. If the man had even a shred of compassion, seeing her daughter beaten like this might provoke him to step in. maybe even go after Audrey’s man in retaliation.
D
Just then, Yann’s driver, Ryder Black, approached from the opposite direction. He was about to warn that someone was tailing them, but a single glance from Yann silenced him.
That look was all it took. The driver instantly understood.
Without so much as a nod, he walked past his employer as if they were strangers, continuing on.
“Miss, what happened to your face?” Ryder exclaimed, stepping in to block their path, voice laced with just the right amount of alarm.
He wasn’t just a driver. A former underground boxer, Ryder had gone from opponent to friend with Calvin before being introduced to Yann.
He lacked Calvin’s imposing build, but his wiry frame packed surprising power, making him an unassuming bodyguard cloaked in the guise of a
chauffeur.
Valerie was seething inside, furious her plan had been interrupted. She wanted to lash out but didn’t dare, afraid Yann might turn and see through her
act.
So, even as disgust curdled in her chest, she softened her voice and feigned vulnerability. “I was attacked… just now.”
She flashed a meaningful glance at Cheryl, urging her to follow Yann. If they couldn’t uncover his identity, at least get his car make and license plate.
“I’ll grab you some ointment,” Cheryl said hastily, ready to slip away with a made–up excuse. But Ryder stopped her.
“Ointment? That won’t help. She needs a hospital. If we don’t act fast, her face could scar.” He played up the urgency. “Her face is everything! If it’s permanently damaged, that’s her life ruined.”
Cheryl wavered. As much as she wanted to chase after Yann, her daughter’s face mattered more.
Valerie widened her eyes, trying to signal her to go.
But with her face so grotesquely swollen, no expression could get through. Cheryl merely assumed she was in too much pain to speak.
Ryder pulled out his phone. “I’ve called for an ambulance. It’s on its way. And what’s with this place? A guest gets assaulted and no one from
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Chapter 170
management shows up? Miss, do you want me to call the police?”
Valerie froze as Audrey’s warning echoed in her mind.
She shook her head quickly. “No need… it was… my fiancé’s ex.”
“Fiancé? You’re married?” Ryder raised his brows, feigning surprise. “I thought you were, what, early twenties? You’re already engaged?
Flattery was always welcome.
And for someone like Valerie, convinced the world revolved around her beauty, such words were more than pleasing. She gave a shy smile, or tried to
The effect was grotesque. Her face, swollen and bruised, looked like a butchered pig’s head, making Ryder nearly gag.
“Not married yet,” she corrected, voice soft. “We’re engaged.” She reached up and brushed her cheek, but the pain was a dull, numbing throb.
Still, the swelling was undeniable.
In her mind’s eye, she pictured herself looking like a freshly pampered beauty, with full cheeks, dewy skin, and youthful radiance.
She had no idea what others saw, one side of her face red and bloated, the corner of her eye purple with bruising, a torn lip, a disheveled mess of blood and puffiness, miserable and unsightly.
The ambulance arrived in no time. Ryder urged Valerie and Cheryl aboard without giving them a moment to hesitate. “Take her to the best cosmetic hospital.”
Once they reached the hospital, he sprang into action with theatrical urgency, running back and forth as if her life depended on it.
He barked at the doctor, “Use the best meds you’ve got. Her face has to come out flawless. If there’s even a scratch left, I’ll sue your hospital out of
business.”
Ryder wasn’t remotely close to the type of man Valerie hoped to latch onto, but the way he threw himself into protecting her stroked her ego enough that, when a nurse mistook him for her husband, she didn’t bother correcting the error.
Under his bold directives, the hospital staff pulled out all the stops, premium anti–inflammatories, high–end dental implants, and a full suite of cosmetic treatments. But by the time they got to billing, Ryder had vanished without a trace.
Yann circled past a gazebo and came face–to–face with Audrey just as she stepped out of the model unit.
“Had a look?”
“The layout’s pretty decent,” she said, lowering her voice slightly as she leaned closer. “But Valerie was here too.”
She’d only sold the Kinsia House’s apartment to get away from Clayton’s constant harassment. If Valerie ended up moving into this complex, chances were their paths would cross again.
Knowing how Yann reacted when jealous, it was likely to stir up another round of drama.
That was why she brought it up. She figured he might consider switching to a different neighborhood.
“As long as you like it,” Yann said quietly.
Audrey looked up at him, caught off guard. That reply was enough to assure her. Whatever Valerie wanted, she wouldn’t be moving in here.
“Alright then. Want to take a look upstairs?”
The sales agent led them up to the floor of their future home. All the units were fully furnished, ready for immediate move–in. Audrey particularly liked
Chapter 170
the bar in the model kitchen and asked if it could be customized.
As they passed the master bedroom, Yann suddenly pulled her inside. Before she could react, he had her pinned against him, his coat breath steen words from her lips.
“Someone’s got their eyes on me,” he murmured, one hand pressed against the small of her back, drawing her close.
She let him have his moment, inwardly rolling her eyes.
She thought, ‘Please. How many people have been ‘eyeing‘ you today alone?‘
With his face, status, and wealth, even the persistent rumors about his sexual orientation couldn’t keep the heiresses away. He was used to attention.
So why bring it up now?
“Okay,” she replied vaguely, not playing into it.
But he didn’t stop. His kiss deepened, and his fingers slipped beneath her blouse, brushing against the tattoo low on her back. “I didn’t respond.”
‘And? You want a cookie?‘ she wondered.
“You’re incredible,” she offered, deadpan.
The next second, his tongue found hers again, and her limbs turned to jelly.
Apparently, words weren’t enough to satisfy him.
Out in the hallway, the sales agent was still explaining the apartment’s furnishings to Calvin. When she turned and noticed the master bedroom door shut tight, her steps faltered.
At first, she’d assumed Calvin was Audrey’s boyfriend. Two apartments purchased in
one go
for love
enviable.
Then Yann had appeared, and she thought perhaps he was just a friend of Calvin’s, tagging along. After all, Audrey had kept a polite distance around him in public.
The agent had even considered asking Calvin about Yann as he looked worth knowing.
But now, seeing the way they’d disappeared into the bedroom together, everything clicked.
“Uh… um…” she fumbled, unsure how to recover.
Calvin glanced back at her and gave a small, amused smile without explaining.
“I’ve already contacted your manager,” he said calmly. “You are not to disclose anything about the buyer. If they come back asking questions, tell them Ms. Henderson didn’t purchase a unit here.”
The agent was just about to acknowledge when a dull thump sounded from behind the closed master bedroom door.
C
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
