71

71
Carmell hesitated.

“Go on,” Lucien said in her ear. “I need something solid to knock that bastard down, once and for all.”

She bit her lip. “Is she okay? He was being a total douchebag, as usual. And everyone thinks he’s a saint.”

“What did he say to her?” Lucien asked.

Carmell paused. Standing under the drizzling rain on a balcony, she looked down at Lucien’s car, where he was seated with Kendall. She’d struggled to process it at first, but now it was obvious.

The two of them knew each other. He said Kendall was his secretary?

That was strange. Lucien wasn’t the type to involve himself with working girls. Unless, of course, Kendall wasn’t doing the kind of work Carmell thought Eliott had gotten her into.

Did that mean she was living independently of Eliott? She’d escaped the system and escaped her old life, too.

Warmth filled her heart, and Carmell felt her eyes prickle with tears of pride and gratitude. She didn’t know what kind of deal Kendall had made with Eliott when she’d been sixteen, but if she’d somehow managed to get out of it and make an honest life for herself, then Carmell would not be the person to ruin it.

Judging by Lucien’s questions, he clearly knew nothing of Kendall’s history.

Carmell would take it to her grave.

“You answering me today?” Lucien muttered.

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “What did you say? Oh, what did he say to her? Uhm…” She kissed her teeth. “Nothing much. Asked her to go to dinner with him. When she said no, he got a little aggressive, so I stepped in.”

“Why?”

Carmell’s brow rose. “What do you mean, why?”

“You know her?”

There was a moment of cold silence.

“No?” Carmell finally said in an odd tone of uncertainty. What if she was lying and Kendall had already told Lucien the truth? Unease crawled through her. “What makes you ask that?”

“No, I just…” Lucien glanced at Kendall, who was sitting as stiffly as a dead bird. “I saw the way you were protecting her when I arrived. Could’ve sworn she was your daughter.”

“Hey!” she scolded. “I’m not that old! I’m literally thirty-four!”

Lucien scoffed, smiling, despite himself. “My bad. But, thank you, Carmell.”

“You’re welcome,” she snapped. “And what about that Rahim guy? He’s blowing up my phone.”

“Block him.”

With that, he hung up and put his phone down with a sigh. “Put your seatbelt on. It’s late, I’m tired.”

She blinked, finally managing to swallow since his phone call began. She didn’t know how Carmell and Lucien knew each other, but the thought of them exchanging secrets about her made her stomach twist.

But, from what she could tell, Carmell hadn’t told him anything.

Guilt turned her mouth bitter, but Kendall didn’t know what else to do. Lucien already hated her for what she’d done to him lately; she couldn’t make it worse.
When he found out she’d lied about her entire identity, he’d probably never want to lay eyes on her ever again.

“But…” she started quietly. “All my stuff is in the hotel room.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, starting the car. “They’ll bring it over by morning.”

Not wanting to fuss or say anything more, she nodded. Truthfully, she didn’t want to go back in either. What if she bumped into Eliott again? Who would save her if Lucien wasn’t there?

He started driving, and she put her seatbelt on, wondering if there would ever come a day when she could tell him the truth.

Probably not.



The following morning, Kendall woke up to the sound of jazz music. She sat up in the fluffy, white bed and looked around at the clean room.
Lucien had brought her to an entire house, which he’d booked for his brief stay in D.C. He wasn’t like the average people who booked hotel rooms, clearly.

She got out of bed and yawned, stretching. Suddenly, memories of the night before came flooding back in, and her stomach practically clenched with anxiety.

The t-shirt she wore hung off one shoulder, swaying down to her thighs. It was Lucien’s, since her clothes had been left at the hotel. To think she could’ve slept so well after the disaster of a night she’d experienced the previous day.

She sighed. It was probably the knowledge that Lucien was close by that gave her such comfort. Pursing her lips, she started making her bed.

She needed to stop thinking of him that way. He didn’t want to be her source of comfort, nor did he want her to like him. Her feelings were starting to become far too embarrassing, and if she had any semblance of pride, she would start treating him with platonic respect again.

Done with the bed, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Finally, she left the bedroom and started wandering through the house. It was nearly completely white, but the elegant art on the walls and the perfect pieces of furniture broke the uniform colour.

She reached the stairs and smelled the breakfast instantly. Her stomach rumbled as she descended the steps.

Pausing halfway through flipping bacon, Lucien looked up the stairs to watch her descend.

“Good morning, Mr Sinclair,” she quietly said.

For a brief moment, he couldn’t respond.

He’d given her his shirt to sleep in, but he hadn’t expected that she’d look like that in it. Hair untamed, bare face, bare feet. Legs for miles as the hem of his shirt brushed the soft skin of her thighs.

“Morning,” he murmured, forcing his eyes back to the pan. “Sit, I’ll feed you in a second.”

With a polite smile, she hopped up onto a counter stool and waited.

“Juice or coffee?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer.

“Milk,” he answered for her. “Nearly forgot. Strawberry milk in the morning and coffee close to lunch.”

Blinking, Kendall watched him turn to the fridge and bring out a bottle of strawberry milk, which he poured into a glass for her.

“Thank you,” she politely said, watching him as she took a sip.

In a few moments, he slid a plate of food toward her. “Eat.”

Kendall paused.

Bite.

She choked on the milk, coughing as she fought away the cursed memory.
He frowned, watching as she awkwardly started eating.

He watched her eat for a short while and then sighed. “Your stuff’s arrived, it’s in the living room.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Our flight back home is in two hours. Before then… we have some serious talking to do.”

She tensed, her fork moving a little slower.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “I just think… after yesterday, it would be irresponsible of me to leave you on your own. Eliott Cross is obsessive when it comes to women. I’m not… I’m not going to let him get to you, too.”

Her wide eyes were watching him in fascination.

He sighed, tilting his head. “I’m going to handle this, so from now on, you do what I say. Okay?”

Silently, Kendall nodded, wondering how long she could keep lying to the only man who’d ever made her feel safe.