5.

CLEO

His eyes darkened, a stark look falling over his eyes. 

When he spoke, his words caused a shiver to roll down my back. “Rochelle was never my mate.”

A lifetime seemed to pass on the seconds where I just stared at him, as stunned as I had been when I saw those two pink lines on the pregnancy test. 

Laurent had never marked his wife because she was not his mate. I was his mate, and the mate bond was very strong and very alive between us. 

My chest tightened painfully. I turned away from him abruptly, my hand shaking as I grabbed the door handle and pushed it open.

I stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind me. The four walls of the room pressed around me as I struggled to catch my breath. 

Oh, Moon Goddess.

I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing a few steps into the room before stopping again, my heart still racing like it hadn’t gotten the message that the moment was over.

He never marked Rochelle, which meant I was still his mate. 

No. I pressed my lips together hard, biting down on the inside of my cheek to stop my thoughts from going there. 

It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. I wasn’t here for that.

I forced myself to move, crossing the room and grabbing my phone from my bag with shaky hands. 

I dialed Gabrielle, gasping gratefully when her voice came on the line. “Cleo? How did it go?”

I fell backward onto the bed. “About as bad as it could possibly go.”

She gave a pitiful sigh. “I'm so sorry, Cleo. I figured. Did you tell him about Kyle?” 

“No, not yet.”

“You need to,” Gabrielle said gently. “The sooner he knows, the sooner we can move forward.”

“You’re right, the sooner the better. I need to get it over with, get his answer, and leave.”

Gabrielle was right, because the longer I stayed here, the harder it was going to be to keep everything under control.

“I can’t believe he never marked Rochelle,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

“What did you say?” 

“Nothing, it doesn't matter,” I said quickly, shaking my head even though she couldn’t see me. 

Except it did, more than I wanted it to. I pushed the thought away before it could take root. “Can I speak to Kyle?”

“Of course, hold on.”

There was a brief shuffle, a muffled sound, and then I heard my baby's voice. “Mama?”

My entire body softened. A smile broke across my face. “Hey, baby. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, and then, with a hint of disgust, “I threw up on Auntie Gabrielle.”

Despite the worry, a soft laugh bubbled out of me at the indignant tone. “Oh no. I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s okay, she didn’t seem to mind, and I already said sorry to her.”

The image of him earnestly apologizing with a solemn expression, made me laugh some more. 

“I’m sure she didn’t mind at all. You just focus on resting, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I ended the call, and walked to the window, staring out at the view of thick oaks at the back of the property. 

My boy was the reason I was here, he was all that mattered. I straightened, rolling my shoulders back as I forced everything else down, locking it away where it couldn’t interfere.

A knock sounded at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. “Yes?” I called.

A staff member stepped in. “Dinner is being served downstairs, Miss. Mrs. Wright asks that you come down.”

Of course. I wasn't hungry, but I expected Richard would be at the table. I still hadn't seen him. “I’ll be down shortly.”

She nodded and left. I moved to my suitcase and changed into a soft satin dress. By the time I was done, my emotions were composed again, exactly how I needed them to be.

I stepped out of the room and made my way downstairs. The dining room was just as elegant as I remembered. 

Bella might not have been a great mother, but she had been a superb decorator, especially when she had Richard’s endless well of wealth. 

Laurent was already seated at the head of the table. My mother sat across from him, her face lighting up when she saw me.

She waved me over warmly. “Come sit beside me, honey. I had the kitchen prepare your favorite, chicken casserole and mashed potatoes.”

I stopped, trying and failing to hide my surprise. She remembered, after all this time? 

She must have noticed my surprise because she smiled fondly at Laurent. “It was Laurent’s suggestion.”

My gaze shifted to him, but as usual, he didn't look at me. 

If anything, his eyes darkened, jaw tightening as though he regretted the decision now that it had been mentioned.

I pulled out my chair and sat down. After the awkward moment had passed, I looked up. “Where is Richard?” I asked.

Mother's eyes dropped to the table, a sad look fluttering over her face. She heaved a dismayed sigh. “Your step-father suffered a heart attack a week ago. He's in the hospital at the moment.”

A week ago? I felt a second of gloom and anguish.

No wonder Bella was so eager to welcome me back. Apart from Laurent, I was her only family left. “I'm sorry, Mother.” 

She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes watering. But, if Richard had died a week ago, then who was sending those letters to me? 

I turned my confused gaze to Laurent. “If Richard is gone, then who sent the letter to me?” 

The clink of metal filled the silence as Laurent dropped his knife on his plate. 

He leaned back slightly, his cold, unforgiving eyes finally lifting to meet mine. “I did,” he said. His gaze was direct. “I needed to hear from you why you kept my son away from me for four years.”