Chapter 231
Cailin pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped the oversized shirt tighter around her legs. “Why am I here?”
“You collapsed,” Hilliard said, stepping back to give her room. “The exhaustion, the medication — it was too much. I couldn’t let you leave in that state. My team secured the penthouse. It was the only option.”
Cailin studied him, scanning for the trap. His eyes were dark and tired, but unusually clear.
“I need to leave,” she said. Her throat felt raw, like she’d swallowed glass.
“Eat first,” Hilliard said. “You look like a ghost.”
“I’m not hungry.” She swung her legs off the bed, wincing sharply as her shoulder fired in protest. “Where are my clothes?”
“Being cleaned. They were covered in mud and blood.” He crossed his arms. He didn’t move to block her, but his presence filled the room like a wall. “We need to talk.”
Cailin froze. Her hand hovered over the water glass.
“I heard you last night, Cailin. All of it.”
“I was on medication,” she said quickly, her heart slamming against her ribs. “It was the painkillers talking.”
“Painkillers don’t invent names,” Hilliard said quietly. He moved to the window and looked out at the gray skyline. “Aron. Davy. I heard you say you had to protect all three of them.”
The air left the room.
Cailin’s blood turned to ice. She gripped the edge of the mattress until her knuckles went white.
“You’re twisting the delirious ramblings of a drugged woman,” she said, forcing a laugh. It came out brittle and sharp. “You heard what you wanted to hear.”
Hilliard didn’t flinch. He didn’t look angry. He looked hopeful. And broken.
“Cailin.” He stepped closer and lowered himself to the edge of the bed. “It’s true, isn’t it? Elia has two brothers. Our sons.” His voice cracked on the word. “I know I have no right to ask. But please — stop shutting me out. I will spend the rest of my life atoning for missing their lives. I will burn down the world to make it right for them.”
“There is no ‘them’!” Cailin scrambled off the far side of the bed, putting the mattress between them. “You’re obsessed. You’re inventing children to satisfy your own guilt. I have one daughter, and you will stay away from her!”
She was shaking — not from cold, but from the sheer terror of being seen so clearly. He was too close. He was assembling the pieces too fast.
“I’m leaving,” she announced, marching toward the door in his shirt. “I don’t care if I walk out in nothing. Vance said your father is trying to cage me with that lawsuit. I can’t fight them from your gilded prison.”
Hilliard was on his feet instantly. He caught her wrist before she reached the door — his grip firm, but careful.
“Stop running,” he said, his voice rough. “Just stop. Eat the soup. Then I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
“Let go of me,” she hissed.