Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Will do,” Nigella says.
“All right. Let’s go.” I set a hand at Ophelia’s lower back to walk her down the hall.
“What’s this?” she asks, noticing the duffel at the door.
I pick it up. “Just packed a few things for us for a couple of nights. We’re going to stay at the brownstone.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like that Ethan knows where we are.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine.”
We grab our coats and head out. I toss the duffel into the back of the SUV while Ophelia climbs into the passenger seat. Tires crunch on gravel, and soon we’re on the road back to Sinistral.
Ophelia is quiet and I reach over to squeeze her knee. “It’ll be fine.”
She smiles at me. “I know. It’s just weird, all of it.”
“How so?”
“Sly dead and I don’t know, Ethan showing up like he did and looking like he did.” She shudders.
“Tell me about the visit.”
“You sure you want to hear?”
I nod although I’m not thrilled about her having been alone with him.
“He was wearing these clothes I don’t think he’d ever have worn before, and his shoes were so dirty. I don’t know, it was just, the Ethan I know, he was always very aware of how he looked, what he put out there for people to see, you know? And I’d certainly never seen him cry. Not once. Not in all those years. I think his father’s murder took it out of him. I mean, he hated Sly. He said as much.”
I glance at her. “When did he say that?”
“At the hotel, after the night of the gala. I just saw them together and it was like neither of them were putting on a show for once, you know? Neither was trying to hide their real self from me, and I saw it. I asked him outright if he hated his father. I’ll never forget that moment he took to answer me. The feeling in the room. It was so cold. And his eyes,” she shudders. “I knew his answer before he gave it, and then when he said it out loud, it was just so cold.”
“You said Sly admitted to beating him?” I already know the answer but am surprised Sly would admit it.
“He suggested as much and considering what Ethan hinted at, I think so. But still, I think his father’s murder… well, he was just off, Silas. Almost manic at some point. Anyway, I want to forget about it.” She takes a deep breath in as we pass the sign welcoming us to Sinistral.
“That’s a good idea.”
When we pull into the parking lot, we both notice the reporters standing outside the lobby doors, probably freezing their asses off. Several men, security guards from the looks of them, are blocking the front doors.
“Ugh. Press,” Ophelia says.
I park the car. “Wonder why they’re not inside. Do you want to go around back?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m not hiding from them.”
We climb out, and I take her hand in mine as we head to the imposing glass doors. The bellman opens them, and Ophelia ignores the press like a pro, not missing a step as cameras flash and questions are hurled at her. I guess she’s had some experience. I’m glad to see her composure and proud of her. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and give her a little squeeze.
“Well done,” I whisper in her ear once we’re inside.
“Thanks,” she says. I notice how the lobby, which usually has guests milling around, is empty except for the staff. We walk up to the front desk, but before we have to ask which one is Horatio’s room, one of Carlisle-Bent’s nurses walks up to us. It’s the woman. I recognize her from our last meeting.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cruz, if you’ll come with me. Mr. Carlisle-Bent is expecting you.”
“Oh, we’re here to see my father, actually,” Ophelia says.
“Yes, they’re both upstairs.”
Ophelia and I glance at each other but follow the nurse into the elevator and up to the penthouse where, upon entering, we see Gordon in his wheelchair at the table, and Horatio sitting across from him. No one else is present in the room.
“Dad,” Ophelia says. Horatio stands and it’s good to see them together, to see how they look at each other and, finally, to see them hug.
“Sweetheart.” Horatio’s eyes are squeezed shut and he holds Ophelia tightly. “God. It is so good to hug you.”
When they draw back, I watch Ophelia. “You too, Dad. I missed you so much.”
Neither can stop smiling but those smiles aren’t easy.
“We should talk about everything,” Horatio says.
Ophelia nods. He keeps hold of her hand as they turn to Gordon, who looks Ophelia over with a smile. “Good morning, Ophelia.”
“Good morning,” she says, and I get the sense she’s unsure what to call him.
I clear my throat. “Horatio, Gordon.” I nod in greeting.