THE HARMLESS SECRET
Andrew's Pov
Two? Two of them?
I haven't stopped rolling the thought around in my head. There are two people I have to be worried about and one’s not even in the country.
The weight of that sits heavy in my chest as Maximus drives me back home.
The leather seats are cold against my back, — or maybe I'm the one that's cold against the leather seats — and the hum of the engine feels too steady for what’s going on in my head. I almost want to tell Maximus to drive as he usually does but there's no need because we're going back home now.
Angel is in my house. There’s no need to worry about her. She’s safe, fine. Daphne is fine too, I remind myself. Fine, with extra security around her just in case.
Angel is fine. Daphne is fine. But I don't know what else to do.
I sigh as the run down buildings begin to change. But maybe I do.
As Andrew, my influence doesn't stretch into the underbelly of this city. But I know Sebastian can handle it. He's made a name for himself in the shadows he lurks in. It might take a little while but I think he'll find them.
The problem is how much longer will I let Sebastian solve my problems? This is only the first one since I left but I'm under no delusions that this will be the last.
And what then? I'll go running back to him again?
Should I let Cosmos continue to wane until he's gone, and just keep leaning on Sebastian until they decide to leave me alone? And then when enemies, both old and future, rise up against my empire, the very same one I’m not given up an inch of, what then?
I groan, supporting my head with my hand. There were reasons I left, good reasons, although one of them is now dead. But I closed my eyes to the cons and now they're here pounding on my door, impossible to ignore.
I'll think about this later. I can't make a decision in a hurry. I'll just continue to protect my girls, make sure nothing happens to them.
I’m about to see Angel and I know she's okay, but my mind keeps circling Daphne like a moth that won’t leave a light alone.
I should call her. I will call her.
I open my phone and hit the video call button, because I need to see her face. Need to see her; her smile, the radiance she now let's me see.
But she doesn’t pick up.
The call rings through, the little icon bouncing across the screen, and then fades out.
A rush of panic so potent shoots through me, sharp and bitter, like caffeine straight into a vein.
She’s fine.
She’s fine.
Of course she’s fine.
So she didn't pick up one call. She’s probably just near her phone but not hearing it ring.
But then the small, insistent voice in the back of my mind reminds me: Daphne is always near her phone. Always. She’s never far from her socials. And she has never, ever declined one of my calls.
I call again. And again. Two more times. Each time, it rings. Each time, no answer.
My pulse is climbing too fast now. I hit Carl’s number instead. Her head of security should be right beside her. He picks up immediately, which lets me take a deep breath. He wouldn't be able to pick up if they were in an active shootout, for example. “Hi, Carl.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where’s my fiancée?”
“She left, sir.”
For a moment, I almost sag with relief — she’s fine — before the meaning of his sentence catches up to me. “Left?” My voice sharpens. “Without you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The relief evaporates. “Left to where? And why aren't you with her?”
“She wouldn’t tell me or take me, sir.”
I stare out the window as if the passing, now aesthetic buildings might help me process this faster. “What? What does that mean?”
“She said this was a private thing. That she wouldn’t be able to persuade me to keep a harmless secret.” Carl hesitates. “She said not to tell you this, sir.”
A harmless secret. The words clang in my head, dull and heavy. And I'm not sure what to do with them. “I see. Thank you, Carl.”
I hang up before the doubt crawling up my spine can spill into my voice. I understand harmless secrets, but I'm not comfortable with them, especially now. I feel like a bit of a hypocrite but I'm doing this from a place of care, not that I don't trust her.
It must be something innocuously. . . I just need to know.
“Kiernan,” I say, switching to the next call. “How soon can you get me a good private investigator in Dubai? Twenty minutes? Half an hour?”
“Sir?”
I click my tongue. With all that happens in my life, that Keirnan is privy to, I wonder how he can still be so surprised sometimes. “A PI, Kiernan. How soon can you get me one?”
He pauses, and I can almost hear him thinking about it. “Let me see, sir.”
“Thank you,” I nod, then add. “Tell him it's not a long job, just for today and it pays well.”
“What's the job sir?”
“To have—” I pause, a momentary gap, “someone followed.”
I'm not sure why I didn't just say her name. Kiernan knows Daphne’s in Dubai. It wouldn't be a hard thing to put together. But then again, he might not. There are a host of things I could still do with a Pi in Dubai. . .
I'm rambling. I don't know if I want him to know.
“I'll text you immediately I find one, sir.”
I disconnect the call and sigh. I'll be home soon and I can check on Angel.
Daphne need not worry
. I myself, can keep a secret so she'll never find out I know her secret. . . if it is indeed harmless.