Chapter 39 39

Chapter 39 39


GEORGIA

The entire murder was pinned on Janette. The mafia council exonerated Rhys and had Vanya's men pay damages for the harassment and death threats we received.

But Dimitri was able to control the narrative on the outside world. He paid newspapers, blogs, radio stations and television houses to dig into Janette's past and put her toxic relationship with her son, Vanya out for the world to see.

His name was not mentioned, everyone was made to believe that Janette single-handedly had Vanya assassinated. This calculated shift in narrative and blame, boded well for Dimitri. He continued his political campaign, red carpet appearances and fake charity works.

Three days after the incident my arm healed completely. Though I didn't hear a word from Tiana, Calvin was back in the house, stronger than ever. The bond between me and Rhys continues to grow. My walls had long been broken, and now my heart was starting to beat for him, like a soft echo in a dreamscape.

For the three days I received treatment, he stayed away from work, tending to me, caring for me, and cheering me up. Tiana's attitude left a hole in my heart, but for some reason, I was unable to keep our quarrel a secret.

"I think you both should meet up for coffee. Or plan a day out or something."

"We are both angry at each other," I replied. "She said some mean things to me and I retaliated angrily."

"Regardless, you are sisters and you know what they say about family? They are the only ones who are always left. I want you to make peace with her. You've been through a lot together."

Rhys finished dressing then, and I crossed to the other side of the room, reaching to help fix his tie. As I continued to fumble with the long rope-like fabric, our eyes suddenly met, and I stopped, frozen smitten.

I let the tie slip from my fingers, my hands lingering just a moment too long against the fabric as if the warmth of his chest could seep through. Rhys didn’t pull away. Instead, his gaze softened, the sharp edge I had once feared now replaced with something unfamiliar… something gentle. My heartbeat, which had been steady in its own rhythm, skipped. Then skipped again.

“You’re staring,” he said, voice low, teasing but with a tremor I hadn’t noticed before.

“I—” I began, but my words fell into the space between us, swallowed by the sudden awareness of him so close.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just… stay here.”

The way he said it—calm, but with an unspoken plea—made my knees weak. I had spent months, keeping him at arm’s length, holding my walls up so I wouldn’t fall for him. Yet here he was, closer than ever, breaking them down without a single violent confrontation or calculated move. Just… presence.

I inched forward, daring myself to brush my fingers against his hand as I reached again for the tie. His hand twitched against mine, not in defence, but in anticipation, as if he’d been waiting for me to make the first move. My pulse raced. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this exposed, this alive, this… hopeful.

Rhys leaned closer, just enough that I could feel his breath, warm and intoxicating. “Georgia,” he whispered, and the single utterance of my name felt like a vow, a confession.

“I—” My words faltered. My hands trembled against the tie. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, a deliberate, gentle touch that said more than words ever could.

And then he did it. Rhys tilted his head, and without another hesitation, he closed the small distance between us. The first kiss wasn’t fiery or urgent. Something that had been buried beneath every fight, every misunderstanding, every danger we’d faced.

My lips parted instinctively, and he followed, pressing closer, wrapping me in a heat I hadn’t realised I was starving for. The world outside—Dimitri, the mafia council, Janette, the chaos of our lives—fell away. There was only us. Only this moment, raw and unguarded.

When we finally pulled back, our foreheads resting together, breaths mingling, his voice was a husky whisper, almost a vow: “I’ve wanted this… you, for a long time.”
I wanted to ask him how? Since the first time I ever met him was in his office, after the article put me in trouble.

“Me too,” I finally admitted, barely audible.

Rhys smiled then, slow and almost boyish.

"You should have a great day today." He said. "Don't do anything strenuous. I still don't want you to leave the house until you resume work again. Will you do that for me?"

I had planned to pay a visit to my father in the hospital. But I was enjoying this moment too much to let it snap. So I smiled.

"Yes, I'll stay at home. I want to start working on my novel. It's been a long time coming.

"Good. And when it is ready, I'll be here to get the whole world to read it."

"Wait, just how much power do you have?"
Rhys answered with a small laugh, "The only thing I cannot buy is life."

And my love, I wanted to add. But I'd begun to doubt that, not when he did it without lifting a finger, only just by being himself.

So, I shrugged lightly, then he kissed me again and left the room.

I waited until he was gone, watching his car leave the compound out of his window and then heaved a deep sigh. I hadn't seen my father since the wedding, and although he replied to my messages and I kept track of his health through his nurses, I felt guilty.

I have been so caught up in my marriage and my career that I forgot that I had a father suffering from lymphoma cancer. I never had a smooth relationship with my parents, they put me and my sister in a foster home as soon as their marriage ended. But we stayed in touch, and we expressed affection in the little ways we could.

Sometime later, my physiotherapist came around and I joined him in the garden. After the bullet injury, Rhys worried that my affected arm would go numb. So, he hired a specialist to train me how to use it again. With this, I imagine what would have happened if I didn't have Rhys' money to buy all the expensive medical care. If I had sustained this injury while I was still a struggling reporter my condition would have been much worse. Thank heavens.

I dressed up and left the house after my session. And an hour later, I was at the hospital. I came with bodyguards as Rhys instructed and their hands were filled with numerous shopping boxes: each containing gifts and food supplies for my father.

Just as I was preparing to head into the building, I heard a voice behind me.

"I should have known this on merited promotion meant nothing to you. Why did you have to steal it?"

Kathleen Lowell.

My spiteful, hateful jealous and wicked coworker. She made an attempt to break my legs on the very day I resumed work at the office. This was one of many attempts she had made to ruin me and take my career for herself. When Rjys got me the promotion, she nearly died and right now she was still seething with rage.

Slowly, I turned to face her, and with all the smugness and arrogance I could muster, I replied.

"What a good day to see you, Kathleen." I stopped and sized her from head to toe. "I can see you're still moving about in the sun. How about I give you a ride in my car, it's fully air-conditioned."

I raised my hand and twiddled my fingers, making sure to let my diamond wedding ring flash in the sun. The light from the ring went straight into Kathleen's eyes, and she stepped back, covered her face and then shook her head angrily.

"You called the office and told us you were sick, but here you are dressed in rich clothes and parading the city? Tell me, Georgia, are you now doing charity cuz that's what lazy women waste their husbands' money on?"

Not wanting to tell her that I'd come to visit my sick father, I gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Well, at least I have the money to waste and no cost to bear. What are you doing here?" I looked around. "I don't recall you having an interest in writing about sick people."

"Mind your business Georgia." Before I could say anything else, she signalled to her cameraman and walked away.

My eyes followed her, but after some moments, I walked into the building.

"Doctor Gendry," I called across the hallway.

The bald middle-aged man smiled and walked towards me. "I do suppose you have a moment to share, Miss Carter. Mr Carter is very much asleep."

"Oh really. But what's with the fuss"

"Oh yes, you've seen the reporters scurrying about the hospital."

Yes, I have." I looked around again. "And why is that?"

"The kidnapped prime minister's daughter has just been admitted. They're all trying to get a spot with her."