Chapter 117
[ 465 words ]
Chapter 117:
She didn’t offer him empty, polite words. She moved.
Caroline stepped directly into his personal space. She raised both arms and wrapped them tightly around his thick waist, pressing her cheek flat against the center of his chest, right over his heart.
Jarrod’s entire body went completely rigid. He gasped, absolutely shocked by her voluntary physical affection.
“You are not the mud, Jarrod,” Caroline said firmly, her voice vibrating against his sternum. “You are the one who crawled out of it and built your own empire. You are the strongest man I have ever met.”
She tilted her head up and looked directly into his shocked gray eyes.
“Whatever monsters are waiting for us behind those doors,” Caroline promised, her voice filled with absolute, unbreakable resolve, “I am standing right beside you. I am not backing down.”
Jarrod stared at her. The violent storm in his soul instantly vanished, replaced by a massive, overwhelming wave of devotion.
He let out a deep, shuddering groan. He wrapped his massive arms around her back and crushed her against his body, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo like it was pure oxygen.
𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝘮
They stood there in the dark hallway, holding each other in a desperate, bone-crushing embrace. Caroline could hear his frantic heartbeat slowly calming down, syncing with her own.
The embrace lasted for a full sixty seconds.
Then, the soft, deliberate clearing of a throat echoed down the corridor.
Jarrod’s eyes snapped open. The vulnerability vanished instantly. He released Caroline, grabbed her hand, and pulled her slightly behind his body, shielding her from the threat.
Standing ten feet away was Carson Finch, the head butler of the Romero estate. He wore a pristine tuxedo. His eyes were sharp and calculating.
Finch bowed perfectly from the waist.
“Colonel Romero,” Finch said, his voice smooth and devoid of emotion. “The General has been informed of your arrival. He requests your immediate presence in the main hall.”
Jarrod let out a cold, arrogant scoff and tightened his grip on Caroline’s hand.
“Lead the way, Finch,” Jarrod commanded. “It’s time to end this circus.”
Jarrod pulled Caroline forward. Their shoes clicked in a steady, aggressive rhythm against the marble floor as they followed Finch down the final stretch of the corridor.
Finch walked three paces ahead, his posture rigid. But as they passed a series of antique mirrors lining the wall, Caroline noticed the butler’s eyes darting to the glass.
Finch was studying her. He was looking for signs of panic, for trembling hands or the terrified sweat of a commoner about to be thrown to the wolves.
Caroline didn’t look away. She turned her head slightly and stared directly into Finch’s eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Her face was a mask of pure, unyielding ice. Her gray eyes promised absolute destruction to anyone who crossed her.
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