Chapter 16
Chapter 16:
He stood up abruptly. His thigh hit the table, knocking over his glass of Cabernet. The red wine spilled across the pristine white tablecloth, spreading like a fresh gunshot wound.
“I’m coming,” Liam said into the phone. “Don’t move. I’ll be there in twenty minutes p>
He hung up and looked at Skye. He hesitated. For a split second, guilt flickered across his face. He was leaving his wife in the middle of a romantic dinner ordered by the matriarch to tend to a clumsy mistress.
He opened his mouth to formulate an excuse.
“Go,” Skye said.
She didn’t shout. She didn’t cry. She didn’t throw her napkin. She simply signaled the nearby servant to bring a towel for the wine stain.
Liam blinked. “Skye, I p>
“She needs you,” Skye said, cutting him off. She picked up her fork again. “And honestly, the soup is getting cold. Don’t keep her waiting p>
Her indifference hit him harder than a scream would have. It felt wrong. It felt like she was pushing him away, not the other way around. He felt a sudden, irrational spike of anger that she wasn’t fighting for him.
“You don’t care?” he accused, baffled.
“Should I?” Skye asked, glancing at the wine stain. “It’s just a stain, Liam. It washes out. Go p>
Liam gritted his teeth. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “You’re impossible p>
He stormed out of the dining room. The heavy front doors slammed shut moments later, the vibration rattling the crystal glasses.
Silence returned to the manor. But this time, it wasn’t oppressive. It was liberating.
Skye let out a long breath. She leaned back in her chair, finally allowing a grimace of pain to break her composure. Her ribs felt like they were encased in broken glass.
She signaled the staff. “You can clear his place setting. And bring the main course. I’m starving p>
𝗖𝘰𝘮𝗉lе𝗍е 𝘀t𝗼𝗿іeѕ 𝘰n 𝗯𝖾.c𝗈𝗺
She ate with relish. The duck confit was excellent.
As she finished, a shadow moved across the glass doors that led to the garden terrace. It wasn’t a servant. The movement was too fluid, too predatory.
Skye wiped her mouth with the linen napkin. She stood and walked to the terrace doors. She unlocked the latch and slid the glass pane open.
The night air was cool.
Standing in the shadows of a stone pillar, hidden from the security cameras and the house staff, was Alistair Thorne.
He wore a dark charcoal coat, the collar turned up. He blended into the darkness so perfectly he seemed to be made of it.
“Dinner for one?” Alistair asked. His voice was a low rumble, blending with the rustle of the wind in the ivy.
Skye stepped out onto the terrace, closing the door behind her until it was just a crack. “The company improved significantly after the appetizer p>
Alistair smirked. The moonlight caught the sharp angle of his cheekbone. He didn’t vault over the railing like a reckless teenager; he had simply bypassed the perimeter sensors, a skill he possessed in spades.