Chapter 74 As the Hostess
The call ended.
Daisy stood in the wrecked living room, phone in hand, listening to the dial tone. Her eyes started to sting.
She didn't even know why.
But she couldn't help it.
She took a deep breath and did what Vincent had told her — locked the door first, then went around and pulled all the curtains shut. Then she sat down on the one couch that was still usable, and waited.
Time moved painfully slowly. Every second felt stretched out forever.
She stared at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick forward one notch at a time, her mind racing with one thought after another.
What if something happened to him on the way?
What if those people were following him too?
She didn't understand why she was so worried about him. They were practically divorced. He had never cared about her. She had no feelings left for him.
And yet, when danger actually showed up, she still worried.
After a while — she wasn't sure how long — she heard a car engine from downstairs, followed by three short honks.
That was their old signal. Whenever he came to pick her up, he'd honk three times.
It was a signal they'd almost never actually used. But Daisy hardly believe he still remembered it.
She walked to the window and lifted the edge of the curtain to look down.
A black Maybach was parked below, its headlights cutting through the dark.
Vincent got out of the car and glanced up at her window.
Then he strode quickly into the building.
Daisy watched his figure disappear into the stairwell, and the weight in her chest slowly began to liftt.
She went to the door and opened it.
The elevator doors slid open, and Vincent stepped out. When he saw her, his eyes swept over her quickly, then stopped at the cut on her neck.
His expression shifted. "You're hurt. Why didn't you say so on the phone?"
Daisy touched her neck without thinking, slightly embarrassed. "It's just a scratch. It's fine."
Vincent didn't push it. He walked into the apartment, took one look at the mess on the floor, and his face darkened.
"Don't bother cleaning up. We're leaving right now."
Daisy hesitated. "Where... where are we going?"
"My place," Vincent said. "Shawn was right — you're not safe here."
"The Bennetts found this place. They can find anywhere else you go. I'm not comfortable leaving you alone."
Then, as if catching himself, he added: "I don't want Luna to worry."
Daisy opened her mouth, then closed it. All she said was, "Okay."
She grabbed a few changes of clothes and stuffed them hastily into a bag.
Vincent took the bag from her without a word and carried it downstairs.
They got in the car. Vincent started the engine and pulled out into the night.
The car was quiet, just the low hum of the engine.
Daisy leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed, as if all the energy had drained out of her.
In the rearview mirror, Vincent watched her face. Maybe it was the stress of the past few days, but she looked paler than usual, with faint shadows under her eyes.
Neither of them said a word the entire way.
The car pulled through the gates of the villa and stopped out front.
Vincent got out and led Daisy inside.
The living room lights were still on. Vanessa was already in her pajamas, and Luna was pestering her for another story.
After two stories, Vanessa was already running out of patience. She handed Luna a tablet to keep her busy, then settled back into the couch with a glass of red wine and a movie.
When Vincent and Daisy walked in one after the other, that comfortable, relaxed atmosphere vanished instantly. Vanessa went rigid.
Especially when she noticed that Vincent was carrying Daisy's bag.
"Vince, what's going on... are you two..."
Vincent set the bag down. "Daisy's staying here tonight."
Vanessa's face froze. She stood up from the couch.
"Staying here? Why?"
The whole situation with the Bennetts was complicated, and Vincent didn't want to drag Vanessa into it. He just said, "Something came up. It's not safe for her to be alone."
"Oh..."
She looked genuinely uncomfortable — so much so that she'd forgotten basic courtesy.
Daisy found it quietly amusing.
Honestly, she still couldn't stand Vanessa. She'd always seemed composed and in control whenever they'd crossed paths before. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen her face go through so many emotions at once.
"Miss Drake, looks like I'll be imposing for a bit," Daisy said with a smile. "Hope that's not too much trouble?"
Vanessa forced a smile. "No... no trouble at all."
Then, as if trying to prove something, she slipped her arm through Vincent's and leaned against him.
"Vince, you must be tired. Let me go run you a bath."
But Vincent gently pulled his arm away. "Don't bother. I have things to take care of."
The look on Vanessa's face was almost pitiful. Not that Vincent noticed — he was already heading to the study, apparently with real work to do.
Once he was gone, Vanessa's expression shifted through several stages. Finally, she pulled herself together and put on her best hostess face.
"It's late, Ms. Hart. Have you eaten? Can I get you something?"
Daisy tilted her head with a smile. "Actually, no. I'd love a bowl of noodles — nothing fancy, just something simple."
Vanessa stared at her.
She'd only been making polite conversation. She hadn't expected Daisy to actually take her up on it.
"I... well..." She gave an awkward laugh. "I'm not really much of a cook. It might not turn out great..."
"That's fine," Daisy said. "Whatever you can throw together works for me. I'm not picky."
There was no graceful way for her to back out now, so Vanessa steeled herself. "Okay... I'll give it a try."
Daisy settled back comfortably into her seat and watched Vanessa tie on an apron and get to work in the kitchen.
It was like watching a version of her former self.
"Mommy..."
Luna had been sitting quietly off to the side, watching the whole exchange without really understanding it. She didn't know what was going on in the grown-ups' heads. She just knew that Auntie Vanessa was unhappy, and that Mommy...
Mommy hadn't looked at her once since walking in. Like she wasn't even there.
Luna felt a small ache in her chest. She scooted closer. "Mommy, did you come to see me?"
Daisy had been about to say no. But looking at her daughter's watery eyes, she couldn't get the words out.
What was the point of being cold to a child?
"Yeah. How have you been, Luna? Are you happy here?"
Luna's face lit up immediately. She launched into a rapid rundown of everything that had happened at school, talking a mile a minute.
Daisy listened, chiming in here and there, and slowly felt the tension in her body ease.
Before long, Vanessa brought out the noodles — a packet of instant tomato meat sauce pasta. Nothing that required any real cooking: boil the noodles, heat up the sauce, toss it together.
Except she'd skipped even that last step. She'd just dumped the sauce straight from the packet on top of the noodles without mixing it in.
And since the packet had come straight from the fridge not long ago, the sauce still had little flecks of ice in it.
Daisy didn't complain. She was genuinely hungry. She picked up her fork and knife and started eating.