Chapter 190
Audrey’s POV:
Taking a deep breath, I accepted the call.
“Hello?” My voice came out steadier than I expected.
“Audrey.” Caspar’s deep voice filled my ear. “I need to see you.”
“Now?” I glanced at my watch. Almost eight o’clock.
“Yes. I’m sending James to pick you up.”
There was something in his tone–tension, urgency–that made my
stomach tighten.
“There’s something I need to tell you in person.”
I hesitated. “Is everything alright?”
“Just come. Please.” The line went dead.
33
Twenty minutes later, I was in the back of Caspar’s Maybach with
James driving silently.
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The city lights blurred past as we headed toward Manhattan.
“Mr. Thornton seemed quite… preoccupied this evening,” James
commented, his eyes meeting mine briefly in the rearview mirror.
“Did he say why?”
James shifted uncomfortably.
“No, ma’am.
”
When we arrived at The Plaza, James led me through the opulent
lobby toward an elevator.
“Mr. Thornton is waiting in the café on the mezzanine level,” he
explained.
I nodded, thanking him as he escorted me to the café entrance.
I scanned the dimly lit space, my eyes finding Caspar immediately.
He sat at a corner table, his posture rigid, fingers drumming against
the polished surface.
But what made me freeze was the flash of familiar red hair in the
opposite corner.
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Emma.
Our eyes met briefly.
Emma’s face lit up with excitement, her hand half–raised in greeting.
I quickly made a subtle scratching of my head–our old signal from
London days.
Her expression flickered with understanding before she smoothly
returned her attention to her phone, pretending I was just another
stranger in the café.
I walked toward Caspar.
“You came,” Caspar said, rising to pull out my chair.
“You didn’t give me much choice.” I sat down, acutely aware of Emma
in my peripheral vision.
“What’s going on, Caspar?”
His replied. “I need to tell you something.”
My phone vibrated with a text.
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I glanced down to see Emma’s message: “Don’t look at me. Your King C
has quite the presence. No wonder you’re smitten.”
“You know that woman in the corner?” Caspar suddenly asked, his
gaze shifting slightly. “The
dhead.”
My heart skipped.
“No,” I lied smoothly, forcing my expression to remain neutral.
“Though she’s rather eye–catching, isn’t she?”
I silently marveled at Caspar’s razor–sharp perception.
Nothing escaped those gray eyes.
Emma’s identity has not been concealed.
If he discovered my connection to Emma, he would undoubtedly
investigate until he uncovered every detail of our shared past in
London.
“Anyway,” I said, deliberately changing the subject.
“What did you want to tell me?”
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“Amelia contacted me,” he said quietly. “She wants to meet tonight. I
was going to handle it myself, without telling you.”
His gray eyes searched mine.
“But James reminded me that secrets between us would only lead to
misunderstandings.”
I felt a surprising mix of emotions wash over me–shock at his candor,
but also a quiet relief.
I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been, preparing for deception.
“So…” I managed after a moment, “what do you plan to do?”
Caspar leaned forward.
“I want you to come with me to meet her.”
I studied his face, the tension around his eyes, the firm set of his jaw.
I nodded, finally. “Well, I’ll go with you.”
Relief softened his features.
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“Whatever she has to say, whatever she wants, it won’t change
anything between us or with Noah.”
“There’s also something you should know,” I confessed. “I met Amelia
this afternoon.”
His hand stilled. “What?”
“She told me she’s Noah’s biological mother and demanded I leave
you both alone.”
Caspar’s expression darkened.
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“She mentioned she was meeting you tonight at eight. I wanted to see
if you would tell me yourself.”
I met his gaze steadily. “And you did.”
Caspar breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly somewhat frightened.
afterward.
“I thought I could handle it alone and spare you from getting involved
in this mess.”
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He rapped his knuckles firmly against the door, his posture
straightening as we waited for Amelia to answer.
The door swung open to reveal Amelia Harrison wrapped in a silky
white hotel bathrobe that clung suggestively to her curves.
Her hair was still damp from a recent shower, cascading over her
shoulders, and the robe was tied loosely enough to reveal a glimpse of
her collarbone and the swell of her chest.
The room behind her was dimly lit with what appeared to be candles.
“Caspar, I’ve been waiting for-” Amelia purred, her voice honeyed and
inviting.
But the moment her eyes registered my presence beside him, the
seductive facade crumbled instantly.
Her sultry smile vanished, her posture stiffened, and the hand that
had been reaching toward Caspar dropped to her side.
“What is she doing here?”
Amelia demanded, one hand instinctively tightening the belt of her
robe while the other remained possessively on the door frame.
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