---- Chapter 5 Vincent's POV At the hospital, Vincent had summoned the best medical team in Chicago. All for a goddamn scrape on Claire's elbow. "Does it still hurt? Don't worry, I've already made those scumbags pay. I promise, this will never happen again." Claire's eyes were red, but she stubbornly ignored him. Only after the doctors confirmed the redness was completely gone did Vincent dismiss them. Alone in the VIP room, Vincent knelt before her. "T'm sorry, Claire. It's my fault.
I wasn't there to protect you. I'll have the maids prepare a room. We'll live together, starting today. Okay?" At the words "live together," Claire finally looked at him. ---- Her gaze was clear but tinged with a frustrated helplessness that snagged on his heart like a thorn. That look seized him. This strange, new feeling was more addictive than the slice of a blade against skin. After calming Claire, Vincent called the estate's butler, his tone back to its usual ice.
"Get Isabella and all of her things out of the main house. Throw them in that empty villa on the West Side." "Don... Ma'am... she never came back after she left last night. I thought she was... with you." The butler's voice was hesitant. An unfamiliar unease coiled in Vincent's gut. Last night... in his rage, he had allowed those men to force alcohol on her. He pushed the thought away.
---- He needed to stay cold, to face the unfamiliar warmth that Claire brought, a warmth that threatened to burn him to ash. "Then clear her things out now. Everything she touched, throw it out, replace it. Tonight, the estate will have a new mistress," he commanded, leaving no room for argument. After hanging up, his finger hovered over the button to call his men, but he pulled it away. She brought it on herself, he told himself. It was just a rash. It won't kill her.
I'll just add more to the divorce settlement. He shoved the thought of her aside, burying it deep. He picked Claire up and carried her, almost reverently, to the master bedroom he had once shared with Isabella. Every trace of Isabella was gone. Even the huge wedding portrait, which he'd never once truly looked at, had vanished.