enjoyebooks Chapter 11
Chapter 11
KAEL’S POV
I watched from the front window as Celestina’s car pulled up to the Veridan estate. The cold, imposing structure felt even colder today, its grandeur a stark contrast to the way I felt inside. I already knew what this visit was about—she was here for the ring. The one she’d left behind at the hotel last night. And I knew exactly how this would play out. She’d take it, thank me in that detached, indifferent way of hers, and walk out the door, leaving me behind to wonder why I even cared.
I turned away from the window as the door clicked shut behind Celestina. Her footsteps echoed across the marble floor—measured, quiet, but somehow heavier than I remembered. When I looked at her, really looked at her, I saw the tightness in her shoulders and the way her fingers curled around the strap of her bag like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Kaela opened the door to greet her, flashing her usual bright smile, but it faltered the moment Celestina caught sight of me. There was no mistaking it: her eyes hardened, her posture stiffened. I didn’t blame her. I’d been part of the game for long enough to know when someone was uncomfortable.
"Kael," she said again, this time flatter, with less edge and more exhaustion.
“Celestina,” I replied, my voice softer than I intended. She didn’t meet my eyes.
My mother’s voice broke the tension, a syrupy note of forced civility. “Celestina, it’s been a while. How have you been?"
Celestina turned to her with a smile that didn’t even attempt to reach her eyes. “Busy. But well.” Her tone was polite, practiced. Cold.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Lady Veridan’s smile stretched thinner. “You always carried yourself with such grace. I do hope everything has been sorted out after the... incident.”
Celestina’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she turned to me, her expression unreadable. “I just came for the ring.”
I nodded, pushing away from the doorframe. “It’s in my room. I’ll get it.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I walked up the grand staircase, my footsteps echoing louder than they should have, as if the walls themselves were listening. The hall to my room stretched long and silent, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing down on me with every step.
I found the ring exactly where I’d left it—on my dresser, sitting in a small black velvet box. I picked it up, turning it over in my palm. The stone caught the light for a moment, shimmering with the weight of everything it had once meant. A promise. A future. And now… nothing.
When I came back down, she was standing by the fireplace, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Here.” I held out the box to her.
She took it wordlessly, her fingers brushing mine for a second too long. But the touch was cold, distant—like the last remnant of something already gone.
“Thanks,” she said, slipping the box into her coat pocket without even opening it.
I cleared my throat, desperate to stall her exit. “Celestina… can we talk?”
Her eyes flicked to mine briefly, unreadable. “About what?”
I shrugged, awkward. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. You just… left.”
Before I could say anything, she reached into her bag and pulled out a thick wad of cash, extending it toward me.
I stopped her with a hand, my voice steady, firm. “Forget it, I’m sure you hate me.”
She frowned but didn’t push it. I didn’t want her to pay for what was already hers. I wasn’t about to let her settle up like this was some kind of transaction.
For a moment, I thought she might press the money into my hands anyway, but she didn’t. Instead, she shoved it back into her bag with a sharp movement. “Fine. But don’t expect me to thank you for anything more than this.”
She turned, making her way toward the door without a single glance back. My hand hung in the air, reaching for something I couldn’t quite grasp. But it was too late. She was already gone.
The door clicked shut behind her, and I stood there in silence, the emptiness of the room pressing in on me. There was a hollow ache in my chest—one I couldn’t quite place. I hadn’t expected her to leave without a word, but then again, maybe I had.
She was gone again.