0017

0017
  “Girl, you’ve been through a lot.”
   Candice slurped her ramen noisily, twirling the noodles around her chopsticks with practiced ease. Beside her sat a can of flat Diet Coke just the way she liked it. Don’t ask me why. She’s just weird like that.
   I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I don’t even know what to say, Candice. The whole thing is just so… bizarre.”
   Leaning in, I tugged her ear playfully. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, okay? Just between us.”
   Candice snorted. “Girl, you think I’d go around spilling your Blackwood mansion drama? Please. Everyone already thinks you’re living the dream over there. And honestly?” She jabbed a chopstick at me. “It kinda looks like you are.”
   If only she knew.
   Two weeks. That’s how long I’d been trapped in that house since Nadia’s bizarre suicide, suffocating under the weight of grief and secrets I still didn’t understand. Nadia’s sudden death had left a heavy silence in the estate, the room she was discovered in, permanently sealed like a tomb. At least Alexander’s stepmother was gone…. for now. That, at least, was a relief.
   The only good news? Mom sounded better when I called the hospital this morning, lighter, as if a weight had finally lifted. She was recovering. At least my sacrifice was paying off somehow. And I hadn’t told her about Dubai. Because I wasn’t going.
   Now, I sat outside a small café in my old Bronx neighborhood, the city’s constant hum wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. It was a miracle I had even managed to slip out of the estate. Thank God for Alexander’s absence.
   Candice sighed dramatically, slurping up more noodles. “Honestly? You should be grateful. A lot of people would kill for this life. I know I would.” She shot me a shameless look.
   I wrinkled my nose. “Candice.”
   “Oh, come on. It’s not like you two haven’t kissed or something…” At my expression, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! But seriously, that whole thing with Nadia… Mr drew’s wife…. I saw that on the news. She was actually pregnant? What did it look like? Her body, I mean?”
   A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. I swallowed hard. “Candice, I can’t talk about that.” The memory alone sent a shudder through me. “It was just—” I shook my head. “Terrifying.”
   Wanting to shift the conversation, I reached for my purse and paid for our lunch just as a short kid in an oversized apron came to clear our table.
   Candice leaned back, giving me a pointed look. “So, what are you doing here, anyway? Why’d you come back?”
   “Well…”
   She rolled her eyes. “If I were a big shot like you, I’d never step foot in this stinky-ass neighborhood again.”
   I smirked, twirling the ring on my finger absently. “You know the saying… you can take the girl out of the Bronx, but you can’t take the Bronx out of the girl.”
   Candice snorted. “Yeah, well, you better take it out before they start calling you Madam Blackwood or something.”
   I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, she let out a low whistle.
   I turned, following her gaze.
   Orbot stood a few feet away, arms crossed, face unreadable.
   Damn this man.
   Sometimes, I swear he’s more of a bodyguard than a driver.
   Candice practically vibrated in her seat. “Ooooh, so he’s your bodyguard-slash-driver? Oh my God. This man needs a raise. Look at those abs. I can literally see them through his shirt.”
   My face heated. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.
   And worse? He could definitely hear us.
   “Candice, shh!” I hissed.
   But she was already in full flirt mode, flashing him a wink.
   Orbot, of course, remained unfazed. He didn’t even glance her way.
   I sighed. I knew exactly what this meant.
   He was waiting for me to stand up so we could head back.
   Not happening.
   I straightened, a slow smile tugging at my lips. “You know what? I have an idea.”
   Candice narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. Every time you say that, it’s something crazy.”
   I smirked. “Let’s sneak out.”
   Her eyes widened. “Sneak out? From who?”
   I flicked my gaze toward Orbot, still standing like a silent sentinel. “From him. He won’t let me go anywhere, and I know he reports to my husband.”
   Candice gasped, ever dramatic. “Oh, so now you’re calling him your husband? I thought you said it was just a contract.”
   “Shut up, Candice,” I muttered. “Listen, we’ll go through the restroom, and you book a cab.”
   She eyed me warily. “Girl, are you sure? I mean, Alex… uh, Mr. Blackwood—probably wouldn’t approve.”
   I waved a hand dismissively. “Forget about him. He’s still grieving.”
   Candice shook her head but didn’t argue. Instead, she sauntered over to Orbot with a flirtatious smile.
   “Hello, handsome,” she purred.
   Orbot barely spared her a glance, his focus straight ahead.
   Damn. That was kind of rude.
   But it was working.
   Taking the chance, I slipped past them, feeling Orbot’s sharp gaze shift to me.
   “Ma’am,” he called. “Are you leaving?”
   I turned, forcing a neutral expression. “No, Orbot. Just using the restroom.”
   He hesitated, then nodded. “Understood, ma’am.”
   Candice plopped into a seat by the window, clearly not done with her flirting attempts. Meanwhile, I walked into the restroom, my heart pounding.
   Two minutes later, Candice slipped in after me, giggling like a teenager.
   “Okay, I got the Uber app open. Where are we going?”
   “Anywhere,” I breathed, relieved we’d made it this far.
   Candice sighed dramatically. “You know, I literally skipped my shift for you, right? I could get fired.”
   I shot her a look. “Oh, please. You know you’re having way more fun with me than dealing with annoying hospital patients.”
   “Fair point.” She grinned, swiping through her phone before confirming the ride.
   Moving quickly, we slipped through the back door, emerging into a narrow alley. Weeds brushed against our legs, and rough brick scraped our skin as we maneuvered through.
   A black Toyota—a far cry from the luxury cars I’d been chauffeured in—pulled up.
   As we slid into the backseat, the driver glanced at us through the rearview mirror. “Where to?”
   I turned to Candice. She turned to me.
   “It’s still early,” she mused, rattling off an address.
   “How about…” She trailed off, but my mind wasn’t on where we were going.
   Because, through the café’s window, I saw him.
   Orbot.
   The second he spotted me, his eyes widened.
   Then—panic.
   He bolted out the door, his voice sharp as he called my name.
   But it was too late.
   The Uber was already merging into traffic.
   Through the window, I saw Orbot standing under the scorching sun, hands on his head, his entire posture screaming frustration.
   I swallowed hard.
   Yep. I was so going to hear about this later.