---- Chapter 6 The heavy door of the Rolls-Royce closed, shutting out the storm of flashing cameras and shouted questions. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, there was silence. | leaned my head back against the soft leather seat and let out a long, shuddering breath. It was over. "Welcome back, Gen." The voice came from the seat opposite me. It was deep, magnetic, and achingly familiar. Kaleb Meyer. He was leaning back, an effortless picture of aristocratic grace, watching me with those intelligent, dark eyes. | instinctively shifted, putting a little more space between us. A lifetime of conditioning. He noticed, of course. A small, wry smile played on his lips. He tapped a long finger against his knee. "Did you enjoy the show?" "Did you?" | shot back, my voice sharper than | intended. Instead of answering, he leaned forward. The car suddenly felt much smaller. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from the bandage on my forehead. His touch was light, but it sent a jolt through me. "This isn't a good look for you, Genevieve," he murmured, his ---- voice low and serious. "You look like hell. This isn't the girl | remember." | flinched and tried to pull away, but he caught my hand, his fingers wrapping around mine with a firm, warm grip. "Don't touch me." "Genevieve, be nice to Kaleb," my father's stern voice came from the front passenger seat. He turned around to look at us, his face a thundercloud of rage. "As for that Turner bastard," he snarled, "he's going to pay for every tear you shed. I'll ruin him. I'll tear his life apart piece by piece." Hearing the protective fury in my father's voice, the tears | had refused to shed finally came. They slipped down my cheeks, hot and silent. | ducked my head, ashamed of my weakness. Kaleb's thumb moved, gently tilting my chin up. "Hey, now," he said, and the teasing note was back in his voice. "The great Genevieve Foley doesn't cry. You'll ruin your tough-girl image." "It hurts," | mumbled, trying to pull my hand back. "You're squeezing too tight." We arrived at the family estate, a place | hadn't seen in five years. It was just as | remembered, blazing with light, a fortress of warmth and security. Later, at the massive dining table, Kaleb sat in what used to be my mother's chair, calmly slicing into a piece of steak as if he owned the place. ---- | kicked his expensive Italian shoe under the table. "Shouldn't you be leaving? The show's over." He took a slow sip of red wine, his eyes twinkling at me over the rim of the glass. "Your father insisted | stay for dinner. Something about thanking me for finding you." | stood up, ready to argue, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down into my chair with surprising strength. "Eat," he commanded, placing a piece of broccoli on my plate. "You're all skin and bones. It's disgusting." | glared at him but lowered my head and started to eat, suddenly aware of his intense gaze on me. | didn't dare look up. | had been scared of Kaleb Meyer my whole life. He was my father's protégé, a business prodigy, ten years my senior. Dad always said Kaleb looked gentle on the surface, but underneath he was ruthless. | remembered once, when | was a teenager, | saw him close a deal that bankrupted a rival company. He didn't even blink. | also remembered the day | told my family | was marrying Ignatz. Kaleb had been there. He had looked at me with cold, disappointed eyes. "You'll regret this, Genevieve," he had said. It wasn't a threat, just a simple statement of fact. "| hope you die alone!" | had screamed at him, furious at his ---- disapproval. He didn't come to the wedding. Soon after, he took over the European branch of the company and never came back. Until now. How had he and my father found me so quickly? How did they know | was at the hospital? | stole a glance at him from under my lashes. He had changed. The years had sharpened the handsome lines of his face, giving him an air of authority that was even more intimidating than | remembered. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up, his dark eyes locking directly with mine. My breath hitched. | quickly looked back down at my plate, my heart hammering against my ribs.