Chapter 165
Chapter 165:
I redialed. No answer.
I ran downstairs barefoot.
Ashton sat on the sofa with one leg crossed, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other.
He looked up the second I reached the bottom step. “Something happen p>
I told him everything in one breath: Yvaine, Cassian, Emmett, and the call cutting off.
He stood and set his mug down. “Did she say where p>
“Lakeside Reserve. Her brother just bought her a villa out there. They’re all at the house p>
“Alright. Let’s go p>
He drove. I sat beside him, phone in my hand, trying Yvaine again. No answer.
He frowned at the windshield. “What’s Yvaine doing with Cassian p>
I sighed. “She told me that after we left the bar, she called him to pick her up. He brought her to the villa, and apparently… he stayed the night.” Ashton raised an eyebrow.
“Emmett flew back this morning. Went to drop something off. Rang the bell. Cassian opened the door. Shirtless. Emmett saw red. That’s when the punching started p>
Even saying it out loud didn’t make it make sense.
“I still can’t believe it,” I muttered. “Cassian and Yvaine? I’ve never seen them act like they even liked each other p>
Ashton nodded slowly. “Last I checked, they couldn’t stand each other p>
“Exactly. Every time they met, they argued. And Cassian’s friends with Emmett, right? I always thought Yvaine treated him like a spare older brother.” I tried calling her again. Straight to voicemail. My stomach clenched.
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“Shit,” I muttered. “What if something’s actually wrong p>
Ashton reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’ve only met Emmett a few times, but he struck me as level-headed. Not the type to commit manslaughter. Cassian’ll survive p>
“Let’s hope so p>
He wasn’t speeding, but the tires still kicked up grit. We pulled into Lakeside Reserve in under thirty minutes.
Yvaine’s villa sat quiet and still. Every blind was drawn.
I rang the bell and called out, “Yvaine? You in there p>
It took her a while to answer. The door eased open.
“Mira, finally,” she said, her voice rasping.
Her eyes were swollen. Wet streaks marked both cheeks.
I touched her jaw. Her skin felt hot, blotchy. “Let us in. Start from the beginning.” We barely stepped through the entryway before I spotted it—a streak of dried blood running across the marble tiles. It led past the hallway rug and disappeared into the living room.