All through Sunday, I keep Luce distracted. It isn’t difficult. We watch movies and have pizza and Chinese delivered for lunch and dinner. She avoids looking at her phone. Not because she doesn’t have anybody pinging her, but because I told her we should take a day to unplug from the world.
Later, I get some ointment Grandmother swears by and spread it on Luce’s back. Her bruises have bloomed like deathly flowers.
I should’ve kicked Karl until he peed blood for a week.
I hold her that night, too. Her cheek is mottled purple, although it looks better than her back. The swelling has mostly gone down, and she rubbed some of the ointment on her face. But she can’t go to work tomorrow like this, and I hate it that she has to change her routine because of Karl.
On Monday, I get up at my normal time, check her face—still bruised, although looking better—and slip out of bed. After a quick run in the gym, I shower and get dressed in my room, then send a quick text to Christoph to arrange for a chat with John Highsmith. Noah hasn’t sent more links, so that means The Hollywood News is the only one that has published a trashy story about us.
I put on my suit for the day, but I can’t seem to manage my tie. The Windsor knot should be simple—I’ve done it thousands of times—but I’m too distracted and annoyed. I leave the unknotted tie around my neck and head down for coffee. Maybe that will help.
As I approach the kitchen, the scent of coffee washes over me. Matthias must be back on duty. It ratchets up my concern for Luce—does she want him to see her with bruises on her face? Although the swelling’s gone down, you can’t miss the signs of abuse, and I don’t want her upset or crying.
Should I speak with Luce before she comes down and give him another day off?
When I round the corner to the kitchen, both Matthias and Luce are there. I almost do a double take. Why is she in a royal-purple dress with a jacket, like she’s ready to go into the office?
“You should work from home today,” I say.
“I have a few meetings I can’t miss. I’m going in.”
Matthias’s lips are so thin, they’ve almost disappeared. He shakes his head fractionally. Guess he tried to persuade her, too.
“Use Zoom,” I tell her. Matthias nods, then discreetly withdraws so we can talk this out in peace.
“Can’t, really. It’s a design meeting.”
“So? Tell them to send you the docs ahead of time.”
“I’m not staying home until bruises fade.” The angle of her chin is firm, the same stubborn tilt that made me think of a Valkyrie when she marched into my office. “Besides, you can’t really tell.”
“I can still see the purple under the makeup.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration. Whatever she did hides the bruises well. Unless you looked really hard, you wouldn’t notice anything.
Uncertainly fleets through her eyes for a moment, then she shrugs. “I’ll get foundation with better coverage.”
“Whatever you put on your face, I don’t want you out there.” To be the topic of more speculation and hateful gossip? No. She’s suffered enough.
She sighs. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and you were right. It happened because Karl is an awful human being.”
Good. She got that straight.
“But hiding here isn’t going to solve anything. I’m not going to let Karl stop me from doing my job. Some of the designers from Sebastian Jewelry are coming to discuss the joint venture at nine. I can’t miss the first meeting.”
“You’re the CEO. Delegate it.” It’s what I’d do. “Using your people effectively is part of being a good executive.”
“Sebastian, I can’t. This project is too important.”
She’s going to stay on her path, even if it bothers her that people might notice the damage Karl has done. But I don’t want my wife out there alone, defenseless and vulnerable. I’ve seen enough to know that, other than her assistant, she doesn’t have a lot of allies. And since Roderick and Karl held influence within Peery Diamonds, those who are loyal to them might try to mess with her.
“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll join the meeting.”
“But you aren’t scheduled for it.”
“Christoph will make the necessary adjustments.” I brush my thumb over her uninjured cheek, then tuck a loose tendril behind her ear. “There’s nothing more urgent than making sure you’re going to be okay today.”
I could be overreacting, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Roderick and Karl don’t respect her, but they’re wary of me. I have no problem doing whatever is needed to lend her support.
A smile appears on her face, slow but bright. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She tilts her chin at my undone tie. “Want some help with that?”
“What? This?”
She nods.
“Do you know how to tie it?”
“I can’t do a Windsor, but I can do an Eldredge,” she says.
“An Eldredge knot? That’s unusual.”
“I learned it because a friend wanted to wear it, but couldn’t master it.”
“Fine.” My tone is casual to hide the acid burning in my gut. Who did she learn the knot for? Jason? Or somebody else?
She leans toward me and starts to loop the tie into a complex asymmetrical knot. She’s so close, her warm breaths fan my chin and neck. Silk whispers, and her entire focus is on my neck—what she’s doing to me. I never realized how intimate having a woman knot my tie could be.
And some other man was treated to this. The need to find out who and kick his ass is inexplicably overwhelming. I draw in a deep breath.
It doesn’t matter who she learned to tie the Eldredge for. I’m the last man she’ll be doing it for. The surging possessiveness is so intense, it stuns me.
“It can look a little weird on a guy who doesn’t have the confidence to pull it off, but I think you can do it.” She smiles and pats me on the chest, all finished.
“One must have enough panache to dominate one’s wardrobe.” I’m disappointed it didn’t take her much time. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
After breakfast, I follow her Cullinan in my Phantom. Siri reads my new texts out loud.
–Christoph: All rescheduled.
–Christoph: Also, I moved your call with John Highsmith to eleven a.m. Is that okay?
I reply “Yes” to the text and pull into the Peery Diamonds lot.
I hold the door open and follow Luce into the headquarters. Peery Diamonds is three generations old. Although it’s housed in a modern building with chrome and tinted glass, the music in the lobby is a Chopin nocturne and the overall ambiance is elegant old money. Orchids in red clay pots dot the walls. Photos of some of Peery Diamonds’ most popular and talked-about pieces hang from the walls. And there are others featuring celebrities. Grace Kelly. Sophia Loren. Princess Di.
A lanky man in his mid-thirties approaches, eyes glued to his phone.
“Good morning, Darren.” Luce’s tone indicates she’s more interested in warning him that she’s in his path than greeting him.
He glances up, then gives her a superior smirk I immediately want to wipe off his face. “Jeez. I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”
“Why wouldn’t I come in?”
“Shame, maybe? After you provoked your husband into violence? What’s wrong with you? I mean, I kind of knew there was something off, but…”
I put a hand on Luce’s shoulder and step around her. “Are you calling me a wife beater?”
Darren’s eyes widen. Guess he didn’t realize I was right behind her. “Uh… What are you doing here?”
“Answer the question.”
“I’m just saying…” he mumbles, glancing at Luce for help.
Luce folds her arms. You’re on your own.
Just what kind of assholes work in her company? She should fire him right now. I would, if any of my people dared to disrespect me.
“How about this?” I say, looking down at the man. “Shut your mouth unless you know what you’re talking about. Defamation lawsuits are expensive to defend. And I’d love nothing more than to make you an example.”
He jumps. “But I wasn’t talking about you! I was talking about her!”
“You implied I hit her.”
“I just meant whatever you did is her fault.”
Somebody take away his shovel. Luce puts a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “You want to repeat that to my attorney?” I say.
His jaw hangs loose. I wait a beat so Luce can have her say. But she merely shakes her head.
I put a hand on her elbow. “Let’s go.”
Bianca stands up behind her desk. I gesture for her to sit down and follow Luce into the meeting room. We’re the only ones in the huge space with a long table and numerous chairs.
“Who was that?” I demand as she settles down at the head of the table. I take the seat to her left.
“Our CFO.” She doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
“And you let him talk to you like that?”
She sighs, tapping the edge of the table. “He and I have some history.”
“History?”
