‘Cassian Langford, you fucking arsehole,’ Yvaine howled. ‘You think I’m just some toy you can toss out?’
The crying got louder.
Her words turned to noise.
She’d been smiling when we left the wedding.
Now she was here, alone, red-faced and shaking, drunk enough to collapse in a pitch-black bar.
I swallowed the sting in my throat, sat beside her, and stayed quiet.
She screamed, sobbed, cursed his name over and over again, and I didn’t interrupt.
More than ten minutes later, Yvaine finally ran out of steam.
Her voice cracked and gave out mid-curse, and she slumped sideways against the cushions, passed out cold.
I called for the server.
Between the two of us, we hauled her into the back seat of my car.
I ordered a driver and climbed in beside her, gave the guy her address, and told him to keep the heating low; she always overheated when she drank.
By the time we got to her house, her head was on my shoulder and her eyeliner had transferred to my sleeve.
Getting her up the stairs was a bloody workout.
I managed to get her onto the bed without knocking over the lamp.
I sat down on the floor, catching my breath.
My back was damp under my jumper.
‘Where’d you go?’ Ashton said. ‘You’re not home.’
‘I’m with Yvaine. She got wrecked. I’m staying here tonight.’
I filled him in quickly and hung up.
A minute later, my phone lit up again.
I stared at the screen. Figured it was Rhys calling from a new line. Ignored it.
I stood up, headed for the kitchen to grab some water.
The phone buzzed again. Same number.
I stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind me before answering.
I expected Rhys. What I got was a woman’s voice.
‘Hi, this is Gwendolyn Laurent.’
Huh, that was unexpected.
Gwendolyn was Ashton’s father’s wife, technically his stepmother.
I had no idea why she’d be calling me.
‘Hello,’ I said, trying to sound normal.
‘Ah, Mirabelle!’ Her voice was warm, unnaturally so. ‘I know it’s a bit late to be calling, but I wanted to get it done before I forget. Bit of a scatterbrain, you know.’
I didn’t. I was trying to remember when I’d given her my number.
‘Anyway, since you and Ashton have been married a while now, maybe it’s time we all sat down for a proper family dinner.’
Last time I’d visited the Laurents, Ashton hadn’t looked thrilled to be there.
Gwendolyn kept talking.
‘Ashton’s never been close to me. I got used to it. But his grandfather’s health has gone downhill, and no matter how many times we’ve called, he won’t come home. His father misses him. Edouard too. It’s been so long.’
I understood what she was getting at.
‘If you want him to come for dinner, I can try bringing it up. But whether he agrees or not’s not up to me.’
‘Don’t bring it up yet,’ she said quickly. ‘If we ask him directly, he’ll say no. He always says no. Thinks it’s pointless.’
‘Tomorrow’s the winter solstice. It’s also his birthday. I thought maybe we could use that as an excuse. Celebrate. Sit down together. Get things back on track.’
‘It’s his birthday tomorrow?’
I said it out loud before I caught myself.
‘Yes, it is. He doesn’t like birthdays. Or maybe he just doesn’t like celebrating them with me.’
She gave a self-deprecating laugh.
‘He’s always kept us at arm’s length. I’ve never been able to fix that. But tomorrow’s a family day. We’re getting older, Mirabelle, me and his father and grandfather. We’re not after anything. We just want peace at the table. That’s all.’
I didn’t know the full story.
I knew his mother died when he was young.
I knew he got pulled into the Laurent household after that, as the bastard son.
It wouldn’t have been easy.
Last time we’d been at the Laurent estate, I could tell he barely tolerated Gwendolyn.
But now that he ran LGH, the whole family treated him with respect—no, with awe.
‘I got it,’ I said. ‘I’ll ask if he’s open to doing something for his birthday.’
‘Don’t ask him outright.’ Gwendolyn’s voice sharpened. ‘Just come over tomorrow. Help set things up. Once everything’s ready, then call him. Say it’s a surprise. He’ll listen to you. You’re practically family. One meal together—he might finally let his guard down.’ The source of thɪs content is novel-fire.net
I didn’t think she meant Ashton harm.
Maybe she didn’t even like him much, but she wasn’t stupid enough to cross him.
Besides, he’d gone all out for mine.
The Nyx stock, the fireworks, the cake.
I wanted to return the effort.
After I hung up, I went downstairs for water.
While the glass filled, I tried to think of a gift.
Nothing came to mind.
I brought the glass back up just as Yvaine started mumbling about being thirsty.
I held it to her mouth.
She drank with her eyes half-closed, then knocked out again right after.
I dropped onto the short velvet couch by the bed.
She slept through the night without another word.
In the morning, Yvaine woke before I did.
Her voice was dry but steady.
She said she didn’t remember anything after arriving at Riley’s bar.
Just remembered ordering way too many drinks.
Yvaine promised—twice, then a third time—that she wouldn’t go drinking alone again.
I left once I believed she meant it.
I headed straight to the mall, circled every floor, and didn’t settle until I found a watch that might be to Ashton’s liking.
Sleek face, dark leather strap, no pretentious logos.
It felt like something he would actually wear.
Then I spent the whole morning and afternoon working on the improvements.
I switched out the plain buckle for a brushed steel clasp engraved with his initials.
Then I traced the inner side of the strap with a hidden inlay of black gold foil, visible only when he took it off.
The final touch: I replaced the crown with a custom-cut obsidian cabochon, low profile but cool to the touch.
No one else would notice, but he would.
Once I had the gift wrapped, I drove out to the Laurents’ estate.