Chapter 28 Chapter 28
Hailey’s POV
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows when I opened my eyes, warm and golden and completely disorienting.
For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The room was too big, too elegant, the sheets too soft and expensive against my skin. Then the dull, throbbing ache in my left arm reminded me of everything, the car trying to run us down, my broken arm, the letter from the Morellis, and Damien coming to get us.
I was still in his penthouse.
I tried to sit up, using my right arm to push myself upright, but the movement jostled my left arm and pain shot through it sharp enough to make me gasp.
“Careful,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
I looked up to see Damien leaning against the frame, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt that made him look both devastatingly handsome and dangerously powerful. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d just showered, and his eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, my voice still rough with sleep.
“Long enough to see you trying to hurt yourself,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking into the room. “You need to rest. Skip school today.”
“I can’t just skip,” I protested, even though the idea of facing classes and Sophia and everything else made exhaustion wash over me. “I have assignments due and…..”
“One day won’t kill you,” he interrupted firmly. “But pushing yourself when you’re injured might make things worse. Stay here. Rest. Let yourself heal.”
“Damien….”
“That’s not a request, Hailey,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re staying here today whether you like it or not.”
Before I could protest further, he turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
I stared at the closed door, frustration and something else I didn’t want to name churning in my chest. He was so used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. But I wasn’t one of his men, wasn’t part of his world, even if circumstances kept dragging me deeper into it.
A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” I called.
A woman in a crisp uniform entered carrying a tray laden with breakfast, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, toast with butter and jam, orange juice, and coffee that smelled absolutely divine.
“Mr. Alejandro ordered breakfast for you,” she said with a polite smile, setting the tray carefully on the bedside table. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you,” I said, overwhelmed by the gesture. “This is perfect.”
She nodded and left as quietly as she’d entered.
I ate slowly, savoring each bite even though my stomach was twisted with anxiety about everything, about the Morellis, about being here in Damien’s home, about what all of this meant. The food was delicious, restaurant quality, and I found myself eating more than I’d expected.
When I finished, the pressure in my bladder reminded me I needed to use the bathroom. I carefully swung my legs out of bed, cradling my injured arm, and made my way to the attached bathroom that was bigger than my entire dorm room.
Once inside, I locked the door and pulled out my phone, immediately dialing Benita.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
Then went to voicemail.
I frowned and tried again.
Same result.
Where was she? She’d promised to come back this morning to check on me. Was she still with Marco? Was she okay?
Worry gnawed at me, but I tried to push it aside. Maybe she was just sleeping in after a long night of getting answers from Marco. Maybe her phone was on silent.
I used the bathroom, washed my face with one hand, which was significantly harder than it sounded, and tried to make myself look somewhat presentable even though I was wearing borrowed clothes that were too big for me.
When I emerged from the bedroom, I decided to explore a little, at least find a living area where I could sit and maybe find a book or something to occupy my mind.
The penthouse was massive and maze-like, all sleek modern design with expensive art on the walls and furniture that looked like it belonged in a magazine. I wandered down a hallway, peeking into rooms, trying to orient myself.
That’s when I turned a corner and walked straight into someone.
We both froze.
Sophia.
She stood there in designer pajamas, her hair perfectly styled even though it was morning, a coffee mug frozen halfway to her lips. Her eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed with something darker, more venomous.
For a long moment, neither of us said anything. We just stared at each other in complete disbelief.
What was she doing here?
Of course, I realized with a sinking feeling. This was her father’s house. She probably lived here, or at least stayed here regularly.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. What could I possibly say in this situation?
Sophia’s face cycled through emotions, shock, confusion, rage, jealousy, all flickering across her features in rapid succession. Her grip on the coffee mug tightened until her knuckles turned white.
“What are you doing here?” she finally hissed, her voice low and deadly.
“I….” I started, but I didn’t know how to explain.
Before either of us could say more, footsteps approached quickly, and Kai appeared, his imposing figure immediately filling the space between us.
“Miss Sophia,” he said calmly but firmly. “Your father is expecting you in his office.”
“I’m not going anywhere until she explains why she’s in my house!” Sophia snarled, not taking her eyes off me.
“That’s between you and your father,” Kai replied evenly. “Now please, go to his office.”
For a moment, I thought Sophia might refuse, might actually throw the coffee mug at me or launch herself at me the way she’d done at school. But something in Kai’s tone, or maybe the sheer size of him, made her think better of it.
With one last venomous glare that promised this wasn’t over, she turned and stormed off down the hallway, her footsteps sharp and angry against the polished floor.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Kai turned to me, his expression softening slightly. “Are you alright, Miss Hailey?”
“I’m fine,” I said, though my hands were shaking. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “I should formally introduce myself. I’m Kai, Mr. Alejandro’s right-hand man. If you need anything while you’re here, just ask.”
“Is Damien still around?” I asked, suddenly feeling very much like I needed him to explain to Sophia why I was here before she completely lost it.
“He stepped out to take care of something important,” Kai said. “But he should be back within the hour.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, wrapping my good arm around myself.
That’s when I heard a crash, loud and violent, coming from somewhere deeper in the penthouse.
Then another. And another.
“What’s that?” I asked, alarm shooting through me.
Kai’s expression hardened. “Stay here.”
He moved quickly down the hallway, and against my better judgment, I followed him.
We found Sophia in what looked like a formal living room, a baseball bat in her hands, systematically destroying everything in reach. A priceless-looking vase lay shattered on the floor. A lamp was in pieces. She’d taken a swing at a painting on the wall, leaving a gash through the canvas.
“Shameless slut!” she screamed, swinging the bat at a side table and sending it crashing to the ground. “How dare you! How dare you come into my house and sleep under the same roof as my father!”
“Miss Sophia, put down the bat,” Kai said, his voice calm but commanding as he approached her carefully.
“No!” she shrieked, whirling on him. “She needs to leave! She needs to get out!”
“Sophia, stop this,” Kai said, taking another step forward.
She swung the bat at him.
Kai tried to dodge, but the bat caught him on the shoulder with a sickening thud. He grunted in pain, staggering back slightly.
“Kai!” I shouted, starting forward.
“Stay back,” he ordered through gritted teeth, one hand pressed to his shoulder.
Sophia raised the bat again, her face twisted with rage and tears streaming down her cheeks, when a voice cut through the chaos.
“What the hell is going on here?”
We all turned to see Benita standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. Her hair was messed up, and there was a very obvious hickey on her neck that she’d made no attempt to hide.
“Benita,” I breathed with relief.
She took in the scene, the destruction, Sophia with the bat, Kai holding his injured shoulder, and something like realization crossed her face.
“Oh my God,” she said. “We never thought about Sophia’s reaction when we called Damien, did we?“