enjoyebooks Chapter 26
Chapter 26
KAEL'S POV
My heart hammered against my ribs as I stood in President Alvada's office, the weight of what I was about to ask pressing down on me like a physical force. The mahogany desk between us gleamed under the afternoon light streaming through tall windows, feeling less like furniture and more like a fortress wall—one I needed to breach if I had any hope of moving forward with Celestina.
The ticking of the antique clock on the wall punctuated the silence as President Alvada reviewed documents, deliberately making me wait. I shifted my weight, the leather of my shoes creaking against the polished floor.
"Mr. President," I began, keeping my voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through me, my palms damp against my sides. "I wanted to speak with you about Celestina."
Alvada's penetrating gaze lifted from his papers, steel-gray eyes fixing on me with the intensity that had intimidated countless diplomats across negotiation tables. The lines around his mouth deepened as he set down his pen with deliberate precision.
"Go on." His voice carried the weight of authority, neither encouraging nor dismissive.
I straightened my shoulders, feeling the fabric of my suit tighten across my back. The photographs on his desk—family portraits including one of Celestina from years ago—seemed to watch me with the same scrutiny as her father.
"I've arranged a getaway for her—a trip to the Maldives." My rehearsed words came out steadier than I expected. "I think it would do her good to get away from the palace, from the weight of everything she's been through."
His brow furrowed, the scar above his right eyebrow whitening as he frowned. His hands folded on the desk, fingers interlocking in a grip that turned his knuckles pale.
"You've arranged this trip without consulting me first?" The question hung in the air between us, edged with ice.
"I wanted to have everything ready before I approached you," I replied carefully, maintaining eye contact despite the urge to look away. "But I wouldn't take her without your permission."
The president leaned back in his leather chair, which creaked under the shift in weight. His expression hardened into one I recognized all too well—the same look he'd given me when Celestina had returned home broken-hearted years ago.
"Kael," he said, my name sounding like both a judgment and a warning on his lips, "you were married to my daughter once. I gave her to you in trust, and you failed her." He tapped his index finger against the desk with each point. "You didn't take care of her when she needed you most. Tell me, how am I supposed to trust you to take her away again?"
His words cut through me like a blade, but I had anticipated this confrontation. The old wound reopened, raw and deserved. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to breathe through the ache of regret.
"You're right," I admitted, the weight of my past mistakes heavy in my voice. I placed my hands on the back of the visitor's chair, needing its support. "I failed her before. I didn't treat her the way she deserved, and I've spent every day since trying to make amends for that."
Alvada's gaze remained unrelenting, measuring my sincerity with the practiced eye of a man who had built his career on reading others. The silence between us stretched, broken only by the tick of the clock and the distant sound of a car passing on the street below.
"I've grown, Mr. President," I continued, willing him to see the change in me. My voice dropped lower, stripped of pretense. "I've had to face my mistakes, to see the man I was and make the choice to be better. Celestina deserves someone who will protect her, care for her, and put her happiness above everything else." I swallowed, allowing the truth I'd been fighting to surface. "I want to be that person now. Not because I feel obligated, but because I care for her deeply."
A subtle shift in his expression told me my words had reached him—the slight relaxation around his eyes, the almost imperceptible softening of his jaw—though his voice remained firm when he spoke.
"And you think a trip to the Maldives will fix everything?" He gestured to the window, to the world beyond that had been so cruel to his daughter.
"No," I admitted, releasing my grip on the chair and standing tall. "But I think it's a start. She needs space to breathe, to heal." I took a step closer to his desk, committing myself fully. "And I want to give her that."
The silence that followed stretched painfully as he studied me, the grandfather clock in the corner marking each second with mechanical precision. His fingers drummed once, twice against the polished wood. Finally, he nodded slowly, the movement so slight I might have missed it had I not been watching so intently.
"You have my permission—but know this, Kael." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper that somehow carried more weight than if he had shouted. "If you hurt her again, there won't be a second chance."
I met his gaze unflinchingly, accepting both the permission and the warning it carried. "I won't, sir. You have my word."
The tension in the room shifted, not dissolving entirely but changing form. President Alvada stood, his chair rolling back against the wall. "We need to ask Celestina, of course. This must be her choice." He reached for the intercom on his desk. "No matter what we decide, it's her life."
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Celestina entered, her dark hair pulled back in a severe knot that emphasized the questioning look in her eyes as they darted between her father and me. She wore a simple blue dress that made her look both professional and vulnerable.
"Dad?" she questioned, steps hesitant as she approached the desk. "Your assistant said it was urgent."
President Alvada's face softened in a way reserved only for his daughter. "Kael has a proposition for you, my dear."
Her gaze swung to me, curiosity warring with caution. The distance between us—physical and emotional—suddenly felt both immense and paper-thin.
"I've arranged for a trip," I said, my voice gentler than it had been with her father. "To the Maldives. Just you and me, away from everything." I gestured vaguely to encompass the palace, the pressures, the past. "If you want to go."
Her eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. For a moment, she stood completely still, processing my words. Then her face transformed—the caution melting away into something bright and hopeful that caught at my chest.
"Yes," she whispered, then louder, "Yes!" Before I realized what was happening, she crossed the space between us in three quick steps and launched herself at me.