Chapter Text
Hampstead, March 18, 2024
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A beam of light passed through the poorly closed curtain and hit Penelope's eyes, waking her from a strangely peaceful night of sleep—something that hadn't happened since Portia's accident. The sound of her mother's body hitting the car still echoed in her mind, disturbing her ever since, turning into recurring nightmares that fed her mental and physical exhaustion. Instinctively, she raised her hand to shield her face from the light and half-opened her eyes, searching for the source of the discomfort.
However, what caught her attention wasn't the invasive light, but Colin sleeping soundly beside her—something that hadn't happened since they moved into that house. It was a unique event to wake up and find him in bed at that hour, even more so with his arms entwined around her, as if he were protecting her even in her dreams.
For a moment, Penelope remained still, enjoying the scene. Her eyes fixed on his face, examining every detail with a mixture of longing and serenity. That moment seemed to dissipate the weight of the last few days, bringing her a peace that she almost didn't recognize.
A soft smile slowly appeared on her lips, as she allowed herself to appreciate Colin's beauty - and he was beautiful, undeniably. Every line of his face, every curve, seemed perfectly drawn, and the tranquility that emanated from him fascinated her as if for the first time, despite the slight tiredness marked under his eyes.
For an instant, a brief, fleeting moment, Penelope let her imagination carry her. He thought about what the mix of the two would be like: a little baby with thick, dark brown hair, just like his, maybe with those slightly pointed ears — so adorable and unique. The perfectly sculpted lips would be a miniature of Colin’s, and the eyes… oh, would the eyes be just like hers or a deep blue, just as striking as his?
But her fantasy was interrupted abruptly, almost as if he had heard her thoughts. Colin opened his eyes slowly, his heavy lids blinking once or twice before he found her. For a moment, they just stared at each other, in silence, the room filled with the lightness of a morning that seemed suspended in time. Then he removed his arm from resting on her as he murmured, his voice hoarse and full of guilt: “I’m sorry.”
The warmth of his touch disappeared, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness that made her act before he could complete the movement and turn to the other side completely. Her hand landed firmly on his forearm, pulling him back with a gesture that said more than any words could.
Colin looked at her, surprised, and for a moment seemed to hesitate. But Penelope didn't back away. She brought her face close to his and, ignoring the whirlwind of emotions that the last few days had brought, kissed him. It was a kiss filled with longing, desire and, above all, an urgent need to remember what it was like to have him so close, so much hers. Her hand went straight to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her, as if she didn't want to let go.
He, lost in the sensations, felt his body react automatically, his skin burning with her proximity. Every part of him yearned for her, and when he realized, Penelope had already slid on top of him — her legs perfectly fitted around his hips. When their lips finally parted, her hands traced a slow path across his chest, causing shivers that made him sigh involuntarily, until her fingers found the waistband of his pants.
Colin half-opened his eyes, his breathing heavy and his voice hoarse, exuding need, when he said: “Are you sure?”
She responded with only a nod, her eyes intense and firm on his as, with an agile and determined movement, she partially freed herself from the garment. Penelope sat on him again, the pressure of her body against his making Colin let out a deep moan, a sigh of pure need — intensifying the moment she placed her hand on his cock, between her legs, and guided it inside her, sliding over him.
Her heat, the indescribable sensation of having her wrapped around him again, consumed him in almost incapacitating waves. Longing and desire merged into a storm, impossible to separate where one ended and the other began. His hands instinctively slid down her thighs, his fingers sinking into the soft skin with an almost primitive eagerness, until they reached her hips. The hem of her white, delicately laced nightgown seemed an almost cruel obstacle that prevented him from seeing the exact point where their bodies became one. But when he began to lift the fabric, he hesitated. Penelope remained still, and the fear of having overstepped the limits imposed by her made him stop.
His eyes searched hers, seeking an answer, a sign. Then her hands settled on his, steady and determined, guiding him, urging him on. When Penelope started moving on him, it was as if time slowed down. Each movement filled him more deeply, drawing a deep, breathless sigh from him. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking it all in—her rhythm, the pulsing connection between them—before he lifted her nightgown again until it was nothing more than a forgotten detail around her waist. His hands found her bare skin, warm and inviting, and held it tightly, guiding her movements, making her quicken. Each touch was a visceral reminder of how she was his, would always be his.
The sounds that escaped from both of them—muffled moans, erratic breathing, a symphony of their bodies colliding in uncoordinated and urgent movements. The room seemed to vibrate with their energy, the atmosphere charged with a primitive fervor. Nothing existed beyond that moment. It was as if the world had stopped, leaving them isolated in a bubble where only devotion and desire inhabited.
In the last week, the distance between them seemed to have created an abyss; prolonged silences replaced the complicity of other times and it was worse than the harsh words they used to utter. But there, in that moment when their bodies merged, the harmony between them was undeniable and absolute, a language that their bodies still spoke perfectly. The desire of both seemed to pulse in the air, in each ragged breath and in the tension that increased as the climax approached.
Penelope leaned over him and, with a firm gesture, pulled him by the nape of his neck, her nails digging into his skin in a touch that was both a request and a demand. Colin rose to meet her, his dark eyes reflecting the same urgent hunger that burned within her. Her lips quickly found his, in a mixture of lust and longing. Soon after, her mouth slid down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles that made his muscles tense under her touch.
When she reached the curve between his shoulder and neck, she placed a long kiss, as if she wanted to engrave that moment in her memory — until the growing fury culminated in a breathtaking peak, where the world around them dissolved, leaving only them — whole, connected, and finally at peace.
Well… that’s what he thought. Penelope fell on top of him, but only for a brief moment, then stood up while remaining silent. Without looking back, she headed for the bathroom, shaking that delicious ass in a provocative way that he loved — while the trail of his sperm, dripping down her thighs, fed a possessive pride that was hard to contain. That feeling hit him with an intensity that almost made him smile, but instead, Colin let out a long sigh, throwing his head back against the pillow. He didn’t know if he was happy to finally get some reaction from her or frustrated for being ignored because of that damn woman.
“Aren’t you coming?”
The second her voice reached his ears, he sat up in bed, his eyes catching her figure back where she had disappeared.
“I don’t know when you want me around anymore,” he answered sincerely, realizing that it was the first time he had heard her voice in days.
Penelope looked away for a moment before answering, “Forgive me if I made you think that. I always want you around,” she tucked her hair behind her ear as a smirk appeared on her face. “If you come, we can talk in the shower.”
Colin didn’t even think about it as he stood up to go to her, fumbling and almost falling as he tried to take off the pants that were still attached to his legs.
Penelope stepped under the shower, letting the hot water run down her body, when Colin joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist. When he leaned over to let the water run down the back of his neck, a slight frown in his eyes caught her attention.
“I guess I got a little carried away,” she murmured, resting her hands on his shoulders as she rose on her tiptoes to place a delicate kiss on the marked area—a deeper line, like a claw, and smaller ones scattered across his skin. A blush crept up her face. “I guess I left a mark… maybe two… or… I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice now thick with guilt.
Colin, noticing the direction of her gaze, turned his head slightly toward the mirror on the opposite wall. The thick steam from the hot water was beginning to fog the glass, but not enough to hide the traces she’d left. He smirked, somewhere between amusement and pride. “Marks, huh?” Her voice came out low, almost a whisper.
Before she could say anything, he turned, tightening his hold. The warmth of the contact and the water enveloped them, and Colin tilted his head, looking at her with an expression full of vulnerability. He slid his hand over her face, his thumb caressing her cheek tenderly. “If there’s anyone who should apologize here, it’s me,” he said in a low but firm tone. He tilted his head, bringing his lips close to her ear. “Forgive me, my goddess.”
“Do you regret it?”
He looked away subtly, lingering a second longer than he should have. Silence echoed between them before she spoke again, her eyes narrowed in a mix of curiosity and distrust. “Why are you asking me for forgiveness if you don’t regret it?”
Colin let out a heavy breath, as if he were carrying the weight that was weighing him down. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you since last week,” he began, his voice slightly choked. “You weren’t supposed to be there. We weren’t supposed to be late. The meeting with Agatha threw me off a bit. I completely forgot what had been agreed. And to make matters worse, I didn’t expect her to show up so late.”
He paused, his gaze heavy with guilt. “When I saw her approaching that crosswalk… I didn’t have much time to think. I wasn’t sure if the accident would happen there, but if I hadn’t stopped the car and diverted your attention, you would have been closer. Much closer to the crash. I just tried to…” The words came out in a desperate rush, each syllable tinged with the need for her to finally understand.
Penelope felt the impact in every line of expression on his face, now marked by a trace of resignation. “That was cruel,” she pondered, as she shook her head, trying to understand clearly where this Colin was coming from. “And you smiled when…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away, while dark thoughts filled the unspoken words. “You liked that…”
Colin took a deep breath, searching her face with both hands, his touch firm but full of gentleness, forcing her to look at him. His eyes fixed on hers, while the intensity of his voice filled the gap between them. “In my vows, I swore that I would protect you at all costs, Pen.” His voice was low, but carried an intensity that left no room for doubt. Still, he paused briefly, as if he needed to organize his thoughts.
She hadn’t been entirely wrong, which was crazy. The people he’d hurt over the years, mostly to protect himself, still haunted him. Their faces invaded his nightmares with an oppressive frequency, like echoes that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But Debling, Cressida, and even Portia, though alive, didn’t carry the same weight on his conscience. On the contrary, keeping them out of his life wasn’t a burden; it was a duty. Something he’d promised himself he’d fulfill. “Though I didn’t say it at the altar,” he continued, his voice hoarse now, “I also promised I’d never let that woman near you two again. That’s what I’ve tried to do.”
“I know…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a latent sadness. Penelope paused, biting her lower lip as her eyes dropped to the floor, as if once again her mind was struggling with those conflicting feelings of understanding Colin’s reasons, and guilt for not having done anything to help. Nothing to stop it… “But if she had died…”
“I wanted to,” Colin interrupted her, his deep voice reverberating through the cramped space, full of bitterness. “The job was poorly done.” He hesitated for a moment, a shadow of something even darker crossing his gaze before he added, almost to himself, “And now I bitterly regret not having done it myself. Maybe I can—”
Penelope quickly raised her hand, covering his lips before he could continue. “Don't you dare get in trouble. Especially now that the whole world is following your every move,” she scolded, unable to hide the discomfort in her voice.
The corners of Colin’s mouth twitched, threatening a subtle smile. He nodded, understanding exactly where her thoughts were headed at that moment. His face had been splashed across countless news outlets over the past week, and with that exposure came the fear of his past knocking on his door. And if that happens… whenever it happens…
He shook his head, pushing away the dark thoughts and deliberately ignoring the shiver that ran through his body. Determined to put an end to this matter once and for all, Colin poured a stream of liquid soap into his hands and, with a gentle gesture, touched her skin. It had been so long since he had felt that softness under his fingers that, in that brief moment, he didn’t want any barrier between them—not even the touch of the loofah. He soaped her carefully, the gentleness of the gesture making the moment even more intimate. When he finished, she returned the gesture with the same attention, and despite the difference in height between them, involuntary laughter erased any trace of tension still present as she tried to wash his hair.
The proximity gradually intensified, and their gestures became slower, more intentional. Their touch transformed from light caresses to something more urgent, more charged with desire. Their bodies moved closer, as if they knew, without words, where all this would lead. And when the connection finally happened, the silence between them was broken only by the sounds of the water and the sighs that escaped their lips, as their bodies met again, this time without reservations — until they reached their limits.
It was already past 7:30 a.m. when Penelope began to get dressed, her movements slightly hurried.
“Are you planning on going somewhere I don’t know about?” he asked, pressing her against the mirrored doors of the wardrobe, his hands firmly on her bottom.
Penelope let out a little laugh. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
He narrowed his eyes, his memory failing him completely.
“Liss’s first day of school.”
Colin rested his forehead against hers, the movement almost involuntary, their noses touching gently, as he took a deep breath, trying to absorb the information. “Sure. You’re right. I’ll take you—”
“No need,” she interrupted him, placing her hands on his chest. And after a brief kiss, she added: “Besides, I want to talk to her first. And well…”
“I get it,” he said, with a forced smile, but unable to hide the sadness that this situation caused. Felicity, although more tolerant and sociable, was giving him the same silent treatment that Penelope had given him in those last few days.
He took a deep breath, kissed her again, and reluctantly pulled away, sinking into the ottoman while his eyes remained fixed on her. Her every move felt like an invitation, and when Penelope slipped on the pale yellow dress—long, form-fitting, hugging every curve as if it had been sewn into her skin—he felt his heart tighten in a mix of fascination and apprehension.
“I don’t feel comfortable having you off my radar,” he said, his voice hoarse, filled with something that seemed like a deeper warning.
Penelope arched an eyebrow, meeting his gaze in the mirror’s reflection before turning to face him. Her steps were slow, as if she was savoring the moment, until she stopped in front of him.
“Why?” Her voice held a teasing tone, but when she leaned in slightly, her eyes locked on his, a mischievous smile appeared. “Are you afraid I’ll go the wrong way and never come back?”
The air seemed to be knocked out of Colin’s lungs for a moment before he pulled her with more force than he intended, pulling her into his lap. His arms wrapped possessively around her, while his fingers trembled as they stroked the soft line of her jaw.
“Don’t joke about this, my goddess,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper of desperation. His eyes were fixed on hers, his vulnerability raw, as if he’d just revealed a secret he’d kept for too long. “My only fear is that something will happen to you, and I won’t be there. That I don't get there in time. That I’ll fail.”
The words hit Penelope hard, and she felt her throat tighten. Her eyes roamed over his face, capturing the rawness of the moment—the silent pain, the panic that brimmed in his eyes. For a moment, her heart seemed to stop, and she had to swallow hard to compose herself. “Colin…” Her voice came out as a shaky whisper, almost choked. She reached up, touching his face gently, her own eyes beginning to sting. “No one will hurt me—”
Before she could finish, the thunderous knocking on the door broke the moment.
“PEEEEEN!” Felicity shouted, with typical impatience. “I’m going to be late!”
Penelope closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to gather her strength. Then she covered Colin’s ears with her hands and shouted back: “TWO MINUTES, CALM DOWN!” Then she turned to him, calmer, but still vulnerable. “I’ll be back in one piece, I promise.”
“Go with the security guard and the driver,” he demanded, his tone serious, leaving no room for argument.
“Okay.” She kissed him softly, lingering on the gesture before standing up, as if to take some of his strength with her. Near the door, she turned around one last time. “And Colin... don’t do to Portia what you did to Cressida, okay?”
He was silent for a moment, his face impassive, until he gave her a small nod. Her smile returned, small but sincere, before she left, leaving Colin alone with his worries and the painful knowledge that without that ray of light, his life would be nothing more than a cloudy landscape, colorless, lifeless, and meaningless.
Half an hour later, the two of them were still in the car, stuck in what seemed like an endless traffic jam. Penelope shifted in her seat, unable to ignore the suffocating silence that filled the interior of the vehicle. Her eyes moved, almost nervously, observing every detail around her.
In front, the driver and the security guard seemed strangely calm, but she noticed the quick, attentive glances they exchanged with the rearview mirror and the street. Despite their professionalism, Penelope couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort; the wait was eating away at her. Felicity, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, with her eyes closed, her headphones on and the music so loud that Penelope could easily recognize the melody, even with the chaotic noise of the horns around her.
She glanced anxiously at the clock again, the hands seeming to conspire against her. A long sigh escaped her before she placed her hand on the girl’s knee, a gesture that was soft but firm enough to capture her attention.
“Can we talk for a moment?” she asked, her voice carrying a mix of tenderness and uncertainty, as vulnerable as she felt.
Felicity hesitated for a moment, holding one of the headphones close to her ear. “What do you want to talk about?”
Penelope searched for words, her fingers intertwining nervously in her lap. “Your new school, for example. How are you feeling about that?” Her voice wavered between sadness and regret, echoing the guilt she had been carrying for neglecting not only the subject, but also the girl for the past week.
“Honestly?”
“Always, Liss.”
Felicity turned off the sound and put the headphones on her lap, turning to Penelope with a look that seemed to assess her seriousness. “School doesn’t seem like the worst place in the world. In fact, there are a lot of cool things. And Violet said I can do whatever I want. All the extra classes I want.” There was a hint of excitement in her voice, subtle but enough that Penelope could feel the emotion building in her eyes.
“But…?” Penelope prompted, her voice barely above a whisper.
“But I still don’t see the point in this change.” Felicity crossed her arms, looking away for a moment. “The way things are evolving on the internet… how long until they find out I’m your daughter? And when they do, what difference will it make? People will talk anyway.”
Penelope lowered her head for a moment, considering the girl’s words before nodding. “You’re right, Liss. But that’s not the only reason.”
“Don’t tell me it’s part of his family tradition, because…”
A short laugh escaped Penelope, and she took her sister’s hands gently but firmly. “It’s not that, although I think there’s a bit of that pride in it too. The main point is your safety. Colin assured me that no one will come near you in there. And with security to accompany you when we can’t…”
Felicity frowned, a sarcastic laugh escaping before she shook her head. “And who would do anything? Other than Portia, no…” She stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she studied her sister’s expression. Penelope looked away for a moment, but her posture betrayed the tension she carried.
“Is there something I’m not aware of?” Felicity pressed, her voice getting firmer.
Taking a deep breath, Penelope hesitated for a brief second. “There are a lot of things, Liss. And I know I owe you an explanation for everything that’s happening. We both do,” she added, swallowing hard, still not knowing exactly how far she should go with the game. “I just don’t… Well, what matters now is, do you remember how drunk you were a few days ago?”
Felicity immediately put her hands to her stomach, a grimace appearing on her face. “Don’t remind me of that. I drank the same as Hyacinth, and she didn’t even have a headache…”
“Yeah, Liss.” Penelope held her sister’s gaze, the seriousness in her words freezing the air between them. “Someone put something in your drink. That’s why you felt so bad.”
The girl recoiled slightly, as if the words had a physical weight. “And why didn’t you tell me before?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as she looked around, her eyes wide with fright.
“Because I wasn’t sure… and I really didn’t want to believe that was it.” Penelope sighed, putting her fingers to her temple. “But Colin insisted and it turned out he was right. The results of the tests you did on the island came back last week. But with everything that happened, I didn't have the mind to talk about it with you.”
“Do you know who did it?”
Penelope hesitated, her fidgety hands betraying the worry she was trying to mask. “I have a theory. Colin has another. In the end, I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.”
The silence fell over them like a heavy curtain, but as Felicity looked down, lost in thought, Penelope felt discomfort rise like a wave: the familiar anxiety tightening her throat, a sudden dizziness, and a sharp pang in her head. She leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath, trying to tame the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Are you okay?” The redhead’s question came quickly, full of concern.
“Of course!” Penelope replied, although her voice sounded less convincing than she would have liked. She forced a smile and squeezed her sister’s hands, trying to convey a calmness she didn’t feel.
“Are you sure? You look a little pale.”
“It’s just tiredness, Liss. Nothing a decent night’s sleep can’t fix. Don’t worry, everything’s fine…”
Even though she didn’t believe her sister’s words, she adjusted herself in the seat, leaning closer. She wrapped Penelope in a tight hug, resting her head on her chest — clearly missing that affection. “I’m glad you finally forgave Colin,” she murmured, her voice muffled but full of sincerity that seemed strange to the blonde’s ears.
“Forgave?”
“For what he did! You know… Portia.” The girl whispered the name cautiously, casting a wary glance in the direction of the driver and the security guard, who, although they seemed indifferent, were clearly listening to everything.
“What are you… Liss… No…”
“Come on, Pen. I’m not stupid or naive. There’s only one person who hates that woman more than I do, and that’s him. It’s obvious that Colin did this.”
“And you don’t care?”
“The only problem is that she survived.”
“Liss…” Penelope murmured, her tone low and reprimanding.
Felicity pulled back slightly, enough to look her in the eye, her eyes shining with a defiant intensity. “Pen, for all intents and purposes, you are my mother. Don’t expect me to feel any positive feelings toward her, because I have none to offer. What Colin did was not enough.”
“Colin didn’t do anything,” Penelope said in a scolding tone, feeling uncomfortable that she had connected the dots so easily. “I was with him when it all happened.”
“What do you mean? Did you see it?” the redhead asked, a hint of curiosity evident in her voice.
“It was more like…” Penelope began but stopped abruptly when the car pulled up in front of the school’s black iron gates. There were only a few cars parked nearby, and the people outside seemed in a hurry. So did Hyacinth, who stood out, straightening her posture and raising her hand in a small wave as soon as she saw the car.
Penelope looked at her watch. “Five minutes late. Not bad.”
Impatient, the redhead quickly moved away and put her hand on the door, but the security guard was faster and opened it for her. Before the girl could leave, however, Penelope grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop.
“Promise you’ll behave?”
Felicity hesitated for a moment, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “It depends. Can I change rooms?”
“Why?”
“I'm really glad you guys got it together, but I don't have to listen… you know.”
Penelope tried to respond but couldn’t find the words in time before the girl escaped her reach with a swift gesture, running towards the imposing doors of the school and leaving her without any possible response or action.
A deep blush took over her face, warming her cheeks as she watched the girl walk away. When the car door closed, Penélope noticed the driver's subtle look in the rearview mirror, accompanied by a smile contained on his lips. Security returned to the car, after ensuring that Felicity had passed through the school's heavy wooden doors—a careful, meticulously calculated detail, something that could only have been required by Colin. The thought brought a small smile to her face as she fished her phone out of her purse.
The nausea hadn't gone away, and it seemed to be getting considerably worse, in fact. However, when she saw the notifications on the screen and their content, she felt her strength slowly abandon her, accompanied by a growing pressure in her head. "Can you... please... take me to the company?" she murmured urgently and with an almost superhuman effort, her hand pressing on her stomach as she tried not to vomit right there.
Her vision, however, began to darken, the contours of the world around her becoming indistinct as her breathing became labored — as if she were drowning, struggling to draw air. A sudden and intense pain in her chest hit her, eliciting a low moan.
"Actually..." Her voice came out shaky, almost inaudible, but she wasn't able to finish before she felt her throat closing up and panic taking over her body completely.
[Penelope's Notifications]
25 minutes before
A few miles away, to the east, Colin was walking through the doors of the family business, texting on his cell phone, telling his wife about the changes in their plans for the day. He held the device tightly, his anxiety growing with every second he waited for her to respond. As he walked toward the elevator, he ignored the stares and murmurs around him, trying to stay focused. The only reason it didn’t irritate him more was because he saw a real chance to make things better for them—or, potentially, ruin them for good.
Penelope, who always responded to his messages within seconds, was taking too long to check them, and that made him even more uneasy. It wasn’t until the elevator door opened unexpectedly that he realized he hadn’t even pressed the button. A man rushed out, bumping into him hard as his cell phone nearly slipped from his hands.
“Sorry,” the stranger said quickly, not wanting to slow down, his long, hurried footsteps echoing through the lobby.
Colin stood still for a moment; his eyes fixed on the retreating figure. A tingling sensation began to form at the base of his neck, and the sensation only worsened when, before he walked through the doors, the guy glanced in his direction for a second longer, looking very familiar—and not in a good way. He frowned, trying to remember where he might know him from, when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.
“Any problems?” Benedict asked, emerging from the elevator with his head tilted, examining his brother’s face. Colin looked pale, as if he had just seen a ghost.
“No… nothing…” he murmured, but the tone of his voice betrayed uncertainty. He shook his head, as if trying to dispel the uncomfortable feeling, and turned his attention back to his cell phone.
Without giving any further explanation, he stepped into the elevator. The doors closed, and the sound of the cabin rising filled the silence, but the uneasiness persisted, latent, as Colin’s thoughts wandered, divided between that man and the still unanswered cell phone. Until…
“Do you know who that man was who bumped into me?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, his eyes fixed on his brother.
Benedict hesitated for a moment, surprise evident in his expression before he stammered, “I… uh… maybe… Is there a problem?” His voice was slightly hoarse, as if a lump in his throat was making it difficult to answer.
“I think I’ve seen him somewhere.”
“My house, maybe…” Benedict ventured, trying to sound casual. “Dominic is a friend.”
“Friend?”
“Yeah…” Benedict shrugged, with a touch of humor. “When Ann—Penelope went to Paris and you became an undead, he stopped by a few times. But I think you were too doped up to remember.” The exaggerated concern in his voice sounded more like sharp sarcasm, accompanied by a chuckle as he put an arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“Okay,” Colin replied, trying to fit that face into the dark memories of that day, but to no avail… his mind was elsewhere.
His eyes fell back on his phone. Nothing. Still nothing. A low sigh escaped him as an idea occurred to him: access the car’s GPS. With quick movements, he opened the app and finally felt relief run through his body.
The car had just turned onto Harewood Avenue, and with the traffic, it would take another twenty minutes to get to Brook Green. He knew Penelope was probably busy talking to Felicity—and deep down, even he recognized that this was more important. After all, he himself had been trying to find the right moment for a similar conversation.
The elevator doors opened, and Colin put away his phone, letting out a long sigh before heading toward Anthony’s office. Nerves bubbled beneath the surface, anticipating what he might find there. But as he turned the corner, he stopped in mid-step when he saw his brother and Michaela outside the security office. They were accompanied by a tall, imposing black man with an expression that was both skeptical and firm. With his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, he watched as a crew fiddled with the company’s camera systems.
Colin swallowed hard, quickening his pace until he was close to Anthony. “What’s going on?” he murmured, his voice low but thick with concern.
He wordlessly handed him a piece of paper. It was a search warrant authorizing the seizure of specific files—security camera footage from the day of Portia’s accident. Colin scanned the document, searching for anything that might implicate him in any way, when he heard the investigator’s gruff voice.
“Colin Bridgerton?” the investigator called, his voice laced with false politeness as he held out his hand to him. “With your face in the papers, it’s a lot easier to know what I’m looking for.”
Colin raised his eyebrows, but before he could respond, the man continued, “Finally meeting us. You seem a busy man; you’re never available.”
Facing the investigator with practiced calm, Colin's tone was light, almost disinterested. “Really? I guess you’re looking for me in the wrong places, then.”
The man let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re busier than you let on. Some—”
“Interrogating my clients without a lawyer, Basset?” Kate interrupted, approaching with that authoritative posture that she sometimes made a point of displaying.
“Our conversation is entirely informal, Kathani. Don’t worry,” he replied in a dry tone.
Kate then turned to Colin, keeping her voice firm: “This is Simon Basset. He is the lead investigator in charge of the Cressida Cowper case and, now, Portia Featherington.”
Colin had already imagined it was him, but having confirmation that this man would be the key player in determining his future — and that of his entire family — sent a chill down his spine for a millisecond.
As quickly as that thought came, Simon’s question came, direct and blunt: “How is your relationship with Mrs. Portia Featherington, Mr. Bridgerton?”
Colin felt his stomach churn, but he kept his expression carefully neutral, although his gaze betrayed a flicker of discomfort. Before he could articulate any response, Anthony intervened, his tone firm, almost cutting. “How about we take this conversation to my office?” he suggested, gesturing to the group while casting a meaningful glance at his brother.
Colin met Anthony’s eyes for a brief moment, and although they exchanged no words, the appreciation was clear. That brief pause was all he needed to collect his thoughts and choose his words carefully.
As they entered the room, the sound of the doors closing echoed, drowning out the noise from the hallway. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy as lead. Colin ran his fingers through his hair, as if the gesture could dissipate some of the accumulated tension. He picked up his phone for a moment, discomfort tightening his chest even more at her lack of communication.
As Anthony took his place behind the desk, Colin threw himself onto the couch with an exasperated sigh, tilting his head back, as if he could find some clarity in the ceiling. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was full of sarcasm, but also of an irritation that he did not bother to hide: “Are you trying to accuse me of yet another thing I am innocent of?” He turned his gaze to Simon, the defiant tone reflected in his posture.
Simon glanced at the door, almost as if checking something, before unbuttoning his jacket and sitting on the couch facing Colin. His relaxed posture contrasted with his calculating, attentive eyes. With a more conciliatory tone, but still full of authority, he replied: “I’m not accusing you of anything… yet. But… how about telling me your side of the story regarding Miss Cowper?”
Colin looked away to Kate, seeking some guidance. She responded with a slight nod, her arms crossed and her body against Anthony’s desk while keeping a serious expression. Feeling the weight of expectation in the room, he took a deep breath, organizing his words in his mind before beginning.
For the next fifteen minutes, he recounted the events objectively but with strategic caution. He told how he had met Cressida, their brief acquaintance, how he had discovered she was married, and his decision to return home. He moved on to the meeting with Penelope, Cressida's threats and her plans to impute an impossible pregnancy to him. Colin avoided any details that might compromise him, but he kept as close to the truth as possible.
When he finally finished, the silence in the room was almost palpable. Simon remained impassive throughout, but at the end he arched an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. His voice was mild but measured, cutting through the air like a blade: “It seems that you and Miss Featherington had every reason to wish this woman ill.”
Mrs Bridgerton! Colin corrected himself internally, fighting a battle with himself not to voice his indignation. It was as if he could hear Penelope beside him, warning him to be careful and not make things worse. Taking a deep breath, he controlled the impulse, fixing his gaze on Simon, refusing to look away.
With a slight tilt of his head, he answered with controlled frankness, his voice low and firm: “I would be lying if I said no.”
The answer hung in the air, charged with tension. In the corner of his eye, he could see Kate almost glaring at him and Anthony rolling his eyes. While Simon maintained eye contact, analyzing every detail of his posture.
“But you’re not the only one…” he said, his tone seemingly unconcerned, although each word was meticulously measured. “In the end, it doesn’t matter what Cornelius Fife says. We’re at a dead end, to be honest.”
Colin crossed his arms, leaning forward slightly. The tension in his shoulders was subtle, but noticeable to anyone who observed closely. His answer came quickly, full of irony, but also with a hint of frustration: “I would appreciate it if the same effort used to link me to this case were applied to taking me out of the spotlight. My family is being crucified for this, and, by the looks of it, without any concrete evidence.”
Simon stared at him, a subtle frown forming on his face before he replied, “I can’t control what comes out in the media, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“But you can be more direct.”
Simon opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted before any sound could escape. Eloise burst through the door like a hurricane, her worried expression obscuring any formality.
“Colin, what are you still doing here?”
He froze, straightening instantly, his tone thick with urgency. “What happened?”
“I thought you already knew; it’s in the news pages…” Eloise replied, handing him a tablet.
His eyes fell on the device, and he didn’t even read past the headline before he stood abruptly, already moving towards the door. Eloise, however, stepped in front of him, blocking his path halfway to the exit.
“Calm down, Colin!” she said, laughing softly, though her concern was evident. “Read it again. All of it this time.”
Reluctantly, he did so. As he absorbed the contents, a rollercoaster of emotions hit him. The blood drained from his face for an instant, only to rush back in, warming his heart and soul. If that were true…
He picked up his phone, his frantic gaze falling on the screen. Penelope had not yet responded to his messages.
“Is she pregnant?” Anthony asked, curiosity evident in his tone, although his eyes revealed a shadow of excitement.
“I don’t know… It’s not impossible, but…” Colin hesitated, his mouth twisting into an uncomfortable grimace as he noticed Simon observing every detail of his reactions with calculated attention.
Simon understood the message in Colin’s gaze and stood up as well, adjusting his tie with an almost automatic gesture. “I don’t want to disturb you, but I only have one more question. Maybe two.”
Colin took his cell phone out of his pocket with a sudden movement, his fingers agile but tense as he unlocked the screen. He was clearly irritated that no one had warned him sooner about what was happening. “I’ve been away from my girlfriend for too long, and she needs me,” he said as he headed for the door. Before he left, he paused briefly, his eyes flicking to Anthony. “Talk to you later, Ant. Thanks, Kate—”
“Wait!” Anthony’s voice interrupted as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. Finally, he found what he was looking for and held out a manila envelope. “My dad said to give this to Pen. He said you’ll know what to do.”
Colin took the envelope, his eyes intent but without opening the contents. Curiosity was pulsing, but he suppressed it. He wrapped his sister in a partial hug and left a quick kiss on her temple, before leaving the office without looking back or giving space for further interruptions.
In the hallway, his cell phone was already in his hands again, his fingers moving frantically as he typed messages demanding explanations from the security team and Penelope’s driver. He was shaking slightly, a reflection of the mixture of anger and worry that was boiling in his veins.
Simon was quick to follow him, quickening his pace to close the distance between them. “I’ll go with you. I only need two minutes.”
Colin didn’t even look at the man, but his silence, combined with his clenched jaw, spoke louder than any words. The charged atmosphere didn’t stop Simon from launching his first provocation. “You still haven’t told me about your level of relationship with Portia Featherington.”
The answer came sharply, like a snap. “There’s no relationship. The last time I saw her, I was about twelve, maybe younger.”
Simon arched an eyebrow, clearly considering the statement. “But she’s your girlfriend’s mother.”
WIFE! The word rang loudly in his mind, almost escaping his lips, but he held himself back, biting the inside of his cheek. The elevator arrived, and they both got in. Colin pressed the parking button firmly, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to control his breathing before continuing. “At 18 years old and with a mediocre job, Penelope got custody of her 11-year-old sister. That says a lot about the kind of person Portia is, don’t you think? But…” He took out his wallet, his movements precise, and pulled out a business card that he handed to him. “If you really want to know more about her, talk to Agatha Danbury.”
Simon took the card, but his eyes narrowed curiously. “Why do I get the feeling you’d do anything for Penelope Featherington?”
A brief, wry smile curved Colin’s lips as he scratched the back of his neck and considered the answer. “You’re not wrong.” He took a step out as the elevator doors opened, but before they closed, he turned quickly, keeping one foot between the doors. His gaze was now harder, more defiant.
“But I’m not stupid. Do you really think I’d be foolish enough to cause Cressida Cowper any harm inside my brother’s company? To jeopardize my future and my family’s legacy? And what’s more, days later, Portia is run over in front of the building. Her daughters make a huge fuss, but she walks away unharmed, without even a broken bone. Pretty convenient, don’t you think?”
Simon tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in consideration. “What exactly are you implying?”
“They’re setting me up. And using Penelope to make things worse. Fife, Portia… maybe someone else. I don’t know. But it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Marina Thompson?”
Colin laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “Sounds like you did your homework.” He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting for a moment as he fought back a wave of emotions before hardening again. “That’s why I cut myself off from everything that connected me to my family. That woman shattered my relationship with my siblings, destroyed the trust they had in me. Now, after almost ten years, I get to come home, reconnect with them, meet the love of my life and…” His voice trailed off, and he had to swallow hard before continuing, a lump in his throat. “I wouldn’t put my family—and that includes Penelope and her sister—at risk for two people as insignificant as those two.”
Simon didn’t answer right away, but nodded briefly, as if he was processing every word. Colin held out his hand in farewell, murmuring firmly, “If you need anything else, ask Kate or Agatha. I really need to go now. I’ve wasted too much time already.”
Without waiting for anything else, Colin sprinted across the parking lot toward his car. And within seconds, he was out on the street. His hands were shaking as he gripped the steering wheel, and his heart was pounding so hard he could barely think.
Penelope took a deep breath as the car parked in front of the hospital, her air coming in and out with more control than she had expected. For a moment, she believed that things were starting to stabilize and even considered going back to the original plan and going to the company. But she owed Colin a specific exam, so since she was there… why not? However, all I had to do was open the door and put my foot out for everything to collapse. Her breathing, which had been steady, became short and choppy. A tightness began to form in her chest, growing like an impossible knot to untie.
Everything around her seemed to move chaotically. Her security guard began to argue with a man who insisted on taking pictures, while she tried to maintain a polite smile on her face as she staggered toward the emergency reception. The sound of the voices around her, which had previously echoed like a distant hum, began to muffle, until it turned into an uncomfortable silence. It was when she looked up and read the name of the hospital that the final blow came.
The mere mention of her mother had always unsettled her in some way, but being in that place… just a few floors away… so close to her… at that moment was like falling into an abyss. Ever since the accident, something had been unleashed inside her, something that was eating away at her, consuming her emotional strength and now, her physical strength. And, not for the first time, the leg that Portia had injured began to hurt, her chest tightened, and her air became scarce.
She tried to move, to say something, but everything began to darken, the images around her became shuffled shadows. The ground beneath her feet seemed to give way, and, before she could process anything else, her body simply gave up.
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on a stretcher. The white ceiling and cold lights of the hospital were the only things visible. A woman's voice called her name in the background, but it sounded like a distant echo. She blinked slowly, feeling reality slowly return.
“Penelope Featherington?”
The same voice echoed, this time closer, until her eyes focused on a woman beside her, a doctor with a calm expression and a welcoming smile on her lips.
“I’m Dr. Layla Newton, but you can call me Layla if you prefer. Are you feeling better?”
Penelope blinked, still trying to process everything that had happened. Her voice cracked a little when she asked, “What happened to me?”
“You fainted. Your blood pressure dropped, so we brought you here,” the doctor explained calmly, keeping her eyes fixed on her.
She nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling for a moment, until something seemed to bother her. "What did you call me?"
“Penelope Featherington... Your security filled out your form. Is there a problem?” The question was direct, almost like an accusation.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned back against the gurney, feeling exhaustion wash over her body. The irritation was there, mixed with a sense of helplessness that made her more vulnerable. She knew that by using her real name, things could get even more complicated, not with the police at first, but with the media. That Amanda woman would throw a party if that detail got out. But what bothered her the most wasn’t that—it was Colin. The mere thought of him made her squirm. A tight lump formed in her throat, and the weight of guilt took over. He must have been worried about her. He always stayed over the smallest thing.
The doctor stood there, attentive, writing something down quickly on her clipboard, in no hurry to interrupt Penelope’s thoughts.
She sat up abruptly, the impulse coming from somewhere deep inside, like a need to take control of the situation. “Can I go now?” her voice came out almost urgently, trying not to sound more agitated than she actually was.
Layla watched her with an expression of understanding, but also of professionalism. She raised her eyebrows, as if she was still assessing Penelope’s condition. “You’re still pale. Let me do a few more tests, and then, if everything is okay, you can leave. Is that okay?” Her tone was soft, but firm—in a way that left no room for refusal.
Although hesitant, the blonde ended up nodding briefly before her eyes wandered around the small, empty room. “Okay... My phone, my purse?” she asked quickly, needing to talk to Colin, see him, make sure he was okay, and that he would be by her side soon.
“I’ll check in with the nurse in a bit, okay?” Layla replied, keeping her tone calm and collected as she began to do some physical exams. “Now, tell me, what brought you here?”
Penelope tried to focus, but her mind seemed to slip away with every passing second, the pressure taking over her body. “Nausea, headache… I don’t know, chest pain too. It was like I was… suffocating,” she said, her voice shaking, a mix of confusion and frustration.
“Is this the first time you’ve felt this way?”
She looked away, the memory dragging slowly, as if each piece was hard to reach. She shook her head, denying it.
“Can you remember when it started?”
Her eyes closed for a moment as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Last week...” she started to answer but stopped mid-sentence. The headaches had started long before, around the time she started dating Colin. And everything since then had slowly gone downhill, getting worse over time. “Actually... it started out simple, I think. About two or three months ago, with headaches and dizziness, and then the nausea started. But... last week was when it got more... difficult.”
Layla wrote quickly, the sound of her pen filling the silence between them. “And today? What happened before the symptoms got worse?”
Penelope frowned, trying to recall. “I was talking to my daughter and…”
“You have a daughter?” the doctor blurted out, the surprise visible in her more animated tone, breaking her professional composure. Penelope looked at her, noticing the smile Layla tried to hide quickly before clearing her throat and returning to her seriousness. “It’s for the record.”
“She’s adopted,” she replied matter-of-factly, her tone neutral. Although she wasn’t sure if she should share that information with someone who apparently knew who she was.
“Understood. It was a trivial matter or something—”
"Sure it matters?" Penelope interrupted her, her voice thick with fatigue. "I'm already feeling much better. I just need a test to find out if I'm pregnant, please. I've already taken several drugstore tests that came back negative, but I'm almost certain they're wrong. That must be the problem."
"But—"
"Please?" she insisted, her voice shaking, an almost desperate plea. "I hate hospitals."
Layla hesitated for a moment, but Penelope's pleading look convinced her. "All good. I'm going to order a sequence of tests…” She trailed off, raising a hand when Penelope opened her mouth to protest. "The nurse will come; we'll take some blood tubes. Simple. A complete blood count and beta hCG too."
After noting a few more things on her chart, she continued, her voice more cautious now. “Regardless of the results of the tests, I think you may have had a panic attack. Have you been under any kind of stress lately?”
Penelope, surprised by the possible diagnosis, let out an ironic snort, as if the answer were obvious. “Stress? I don’t even know where to begin...”
Minutes later, and a few less tubes of blood, Penelope felt sufficiently recovered to escape from that place. The exams would take a few hours to complete, and, taking advantage of the fact that — by some miracle — Colin was still not at her side, she decided it was the right time to muster the few vestiges of courage that still remained in her body and go. behind Portia. Maybe it was a bad idea — and it probably was —, but, despite that, something inside her demanded that she put an end to this situation. If she went to see her, maybe she could finally get everything she had been holding back since childhood off the table, or maybe she could convince her to drop the custody case for Liss… anything that would take her out of that limbo she was in and make her feel more whole, able to move on with her life without the shadow of her — and her past — hanging over her head.
As soon as the thought was formulated, Penelope got off the stretcher, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She needed an extra second to stabilize her body, her legs still a little shaky after everything. She took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs, as if she could draw strength from that simple gesture. She walked to the corner of the room, where the bag they had brought was, took off her sunglasses and placed them on her face. She tied her hair in a simple ponytail and, finally, put on the long coat they had taken from her earlier, adjusting the fabric over her shoulders.
For a moment, she stood still, her trembling fingers smoothing the lapel of her coat as she stared at the closed door. The thought of confronting Portia after everything… it was like a hurricane in her mind, a destructive mix of anger and fear, but also of a determination she didn’t even know she had. Her heart raced, slamming against her ribs, but she ignored it.
“Just one more step,” she whispered softly, as if her own voice could lend her courage. The sound seemed to vanish into thin air, but that whisper was enough to move her. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the cold air, turned the doorknob with trembling fingers and crossed the room’s door.
In the hallway, the sounds of the hospital seemed to echo around her: hurried footsteps, voices murmuring medical orders, the metallic creak of a cart rolling in some unknown direction. Everything seemed amplified, and at the same time, distant, as if this world wasn’t really hers. The distinct smell of disinfectant brought with it a slight nausea, which she ignored as she walked, keeping her gaze fixed on the path ahead.
He walked past the emergency reception desk without hesitation, his eyes fixed on the elevator. As soon as the doors opened with a sharp sound, she quickly entered and pressed a random button, realizing that she didn't even know which room she was in.
When the doors opened on a random floor, she adjusted her hair in an automatic gesture, trying to appear calm, and headed to the first reception she found. The voice that escaped her lips sounded surprisingly firm, almost warm:
“Good afternoon,” she greeted with a practiced smile, the sparkle in her eyes masking the inner turmoil. “My mother was admitted here, but I was traveling and didn't receive the room information. Could you help me, please?”
“What's her name?”
“Portia Featherington,” she replied with the same lightness, leaning forward slightly, as if she didn’t want to be overheard, as she handed the receptionist her identification document.
The woman gave her a brief glance, but, in an automatic gesture, returned the document along with a visitor’s tag. “It’s on this floor. Room 318. Visiting hours are until 11am.”
“Thank you, it was a great help.”
With slower steps, she followed the indicated corridor. As she approached the room, the sound of voices began to form, growing louder with each step. When she was a few meters away, she stopped abruptly when she heard a shrill scream.
“I told you I’m in pain! Are you here to help me or to break me even more?” Portia’s voice was unmistakable, full of irritation and contempt.
Penelope froze, her body reacting before she could even decide what to do. She stood there, motionless, as the sound of her mother arguing with some doctor — probably — echoed through the hallway. Her breathing quickened, and in an impulsive act, she grabbed her cell phone from her bag and called the only person who could help her not to freak out at that moment.
Colin sounded breathless and desperate as soon as he answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”
“Room 318…”
There was silence before he hung up the call without saying anything. Penelope swallowed hard and closed her eyes, trying to find a way to relieve the tension in her shoulders and the anguish in her chest, but she opened them half a minute later when she smelled his perfume before his arms even closed around her in a tight hug.
“I was worried, Pen!” he murmured in her ear before pulling away enough to look her in the eye. “What happened? Why didn’t you call me sooner? And what…” His voice was cut off as the sound of Portia’s scream filled the hallway. He glanced toward the door where the voice had come from, then back to his wife, torn between anger at her being there and the worry bubbling in his chest until she explained.
“After I dropped Liss off at school, I saw your message… I guess I panicked about what might happen in this conversation,” she began, her voice low as she tried to ignore the voices. “The driver who brought me here. I didn’t realize this was the same hospital until I was already in the reception…”
Colin nodded slightly, broke the hug and held her hand tightly before leading her to a bench far away, away from the view of the room and those angry screams.
“Now, tell me calmly what happened,” he asked, his tone calmer but attentive.
Penelope spent about fifteen minutes narrating her conversation with Liss, the symptoms and confusing sensations of the last few hours — and even the last week. He listened to everything patiently, his eyes fixed on her, his face full of concern, but without any interruption.
When she was done, Colin pulled her into a tight hug, murmuring against her hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were hurting sooner. I never—”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Col,” she interrupted him softly. “I just didn’t want to show it. I know what you and Liss think about the matter, and I just didn’t want to hear, for the hundredth time, that I’m stupid for caring…”
“I never said that”, he replied in a gentle voice.
“But I’m sure you must have thought about it,” she replied, shrugging, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice was shaking and her eyes heavy as they stared at him. “And that’s okay. It’s still true. Deep down, I always knew you’d do something… I just didn’t expect it to affect me so much.” She let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms as if she were trying to protect herself from something invisible. “I’ve harbored a lot of anger toward her over the last few years, a lot of hurt.” Her voice began to waver, but she continued stubbornly: “I know she’s not a good person, I know perfectly well how much harm she’s done to me and to Liss. I’m not blind or a masochist.”
She paused, her hands tightening on her elbows. “But there’s a little piece of me—and I can’t explain why—that still loves her.” Her voice almost trailed off on that last sentence, and she took a deep breath before continuing.
“That little piece would like to share the good things that are happening in my life.” Penelope let out a short, bitter laugh. “That little piece wanted to have her at our wedding, cares about her, and somehow believes that things can change one day.”
“Pen…”
“I know...” she said, interrupting him, as she quickly wiped away the tears that had begun to flow. “That will never happen. And that’s okay. I’m slowly killing this little piece of me. At some point... I’ll stop caring so much, and then I’ll finally be free.” Then, taking a deep breath, as if she hadn’t said anything, she stood up and pulled him by the hands so he could do the same. “Let’s go, please!”
Colin obeyed, but instead of moving, he pulled her into a tight hug, trying to convey everything he could never express in words. He wouldn’t even know where to start, if he were honest. He never understood her relationship with her mother, her defenses... And even after hearing her explain her side, he still couldn’t fully understand. But one thing was certain: how could he, coming from a perfect family, judge her for that? He would never be able to measure the depth of those feelings or how painful it was to live in that constant conflict.
“I’m sorry I ignored you the last few days.” Penelope murmured against his chest, her head resting perfectly against his as she felt the rapid rhythm of his heart. It was a comforting sound, but also a reminder of how much he cared. “I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all of this. But I promise I won’t let her or my mixed feelings get in the way of us again.”
He cupped her face in both hands, his fingers gently stroking her skin. “And I promise I won’t do anything else without consulting you first,” he stated firmly, before leaning in and placing a warm kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, just enough to look her in the eyes, he asked, “Do you want to talk to her? I’ll be by your side if you want.”
Penelope blinked in surprise, and even stuttered as she answered: “You would seriously do that for me?”
“I may not agree, but I would never let you get close to her again without me being there. I almost lost you once and—”
“Stop exaggerating, it was just a few stitches on my thigh.” She interrupted him, trying to downplay what had really happened, but her cheeks flushed slightly as she remembered what had happened.
Colin arched an eyebrow, his expression clearly indicating that he disagreed, but he chose not to insist. “So, what do you want to do?”
She took a deep breath, looking away for a moment. “I don’t like hospitals, and I’ve been here long enough. I’d rather leave and…”
Before she could finish her sentence, he had already put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her carefully toward the elevators. “Then let’s go! I have something for you in the car.”
The silence that surrounded them as they walked was comforting. She felt a growing relief at having finally opened up, while he, with a slight smile on his face, was just happy to have her in his arms, whole—or almost.
As soon as they reached the car, Colin opened the door for her, but before she got in, he asked in a casual but attentive tone: “Did you tell the doctor that you haven’t eaten today?”
“Who said I haven’t…” Penelope started to answer, but was interrupted by his look—a subtle tilt of his head that said he knew her too well to fall for the lie.
She huffed, crossing her arms. “I forgot to mention that detail.”
“Of course you forgot… Let’s take care of it now, and then we’ll come back to get the test results.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” the blonde replied, but as she sat down, she noticed an envelope on the seat next to her.
“Oh, that’s yours. My father asked me to give it to you,” Colin commented casually, closing the door for her with an almost automatic care.
As Colin walked around the car, Penelope couldn’t resist her curiosity and opened the envelope. The rustling of the papers seemed louder than it should have been, or maybe it was just the pressure of the moment that made everything seem more intense. She began to read the documents carefully, feeling her heart race with each sentence.
She was so immersed in the content that she barely noticed when the car started moving. She only realized they were in the middle of yet another traffic jam when she muttered, almost without thinking, “I think I’d rather go to the bank,” followed by an odd laugh—a mix of relief, shock, and maybe even despair.
Colin, hearing this, gave her a curious look as he drove. Penelope finally looked up from her papers and shook her head, explaining, “Your father left the documents so I could get my share right away, without having to wait for Portia… and wow…” She took a deep breath, still trying to process it. “I’m a millionaire… just like that… out of nowhere.”
Stopping at the traffic light, Colin leaned forward slightly to look through the papers in his hands, his curiosity showing. “Over four million?” he murmured, impressed.
Penelope looked away from the documents for a moment, blinking as if she needed to convince herself that this was real. Still emotional, she looked at him and, with a smile that mixed incredulity and humor, joked: “It’s not the same as your 3.07 billion dollars, but I think it’s enough to live without having to worry about the bills at the end of the month.”
She let out a laugh of disbelief, almost a guffaw, unable to believe how her life had changed in the last few months and how this was changing everything. Colin felt lightened by the moment, and accompanied her with a soft laugh, shaking his head in an affectionate gesture. When she finally calmed down, her eyes still shining with emotion, she leaned towards him a little. “By the way, we didn’t talk about that… I knew you had made some money with your entry into the company… but was that really it?”
“A little less, after taxes,” he replied with a hint of modesty, although the smile that played on his lips betrayed that it was not something he was just a little proud of. He made a gentle turn onto the busy street, and his next words seemed to carry a more serious and purposeful tone. “But it is… officially, that’s it. In the end, my refusal to join the company ended up working as if I had saved us money. This money is also yours, Liss’s, and our future children’s.” Colin added the last part almost casually, as he remembered the story that had left him both panicked and excited at the same time.
For some reason, the laughter faded, leaving a thin layer of tension in the air. Penelope looked at him, her eyes curious, and asked in a soft yet profound tone, “Why do you want to have children so badly, Col?”
He didn’t hesitate, the answer spilling from his mouth with raw sincerity: “Because I’m afraid that one day you’ll realize how much better off you’d be without me and leave.”
Penelope remained silent for a moment, surprised by the depth of his response. When she finally spoke, she couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. “Are you saying something like…?” She paused, laughter escaping before she could finish the sentence. “Sorry, I can’t stop thinking about a pregnancy trap. It doesn’t make any sense!”
Infected by the sparkle in her eyes and her light laughter, Colin couldn’t help himself. He laughed too, parking the car in front of an Italian restaurant. “I’m kidding, my goddess. Although, I must admit, the idea crossed my mind... but that’s not it,” he said, with a softer smile now.
He paused for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts, his eyes distant, as if he were opening up to her in a way he hadn’t done in a long time. “I don’t know for sure... I think I’ve always had too many people, too much noise around me. There was a time, even, when I wanted silence so much... to get away from it all. But when I got it, it wasn’t comfortable. It’s been ten years of silence, Pen... and I don’t want to continue like that. I want noise again, but not just any noise. I want our noise. Our family’s.”
Penelope didn’t answer right away. Instead, she threw the documents and envelope into the backseat before unbuckling her seatbelt. In one swift movement, she jumped into his seat, facing him, sitting on his lap, with the steering wheel pressed against her back. Her eyes were intense, but at the same time, there was a mischievous smile on her lips.
“Then let’s make a lot of noise, love,” she said, her voice low and full of intense desire, before kissing him urgently. The kiss started softly, but soon turned into something more voracious, as she realized that she wanted that noise too. And more, she really wished that noise was already on its way.