Norman, he retreated to his room in a morbid state.
The evening he had hoped would be better than usual had turned out to be far more draining than he had anticipated.
First, he had been informed that his company was on the verge of bankruptcy, having been flagged by the government as an unreliable business that stood a chance of ruining those who continued to invest in it.
Then there was the strange woman he had suddenly run into, who had apparently been left alone on the streets, forcing him to become a messiah he had never intended to be.
And now came Mr.
Norman’s warning that his company was on the verge of being shut down.
Most of his investors had complained about the company’s failure to recover after the huge blow it had suffered.
In the strict world of business, no one was willing to lose money easily.
Not when they had the chance to save themselves before it was too late.
Although his business was nearly on the verge of collapse, he still had enough money to pay all his investors back.
The problem was that if he did so, he would have almost no chance of ever recovering from the loss if the business eventually failed.
He had spent years trying to get to the top, enduring setback after setback before finally managing to create his own seat at the table where elite businessmen, men who were practically worshipped in their circles, sat.
He wasn’t ready to lose something that hadn’t even lasted five years.
‘It is best you let her go.
Keeping her here will only make matters worse.
Most of the investors already don’t trust your ability to bounce back from this loss, while others believe you are using the company’s money for your personal benefit.
Her staying here will only affirm their suspicions,’ Mr.
Norman had told him.
‘I have done no such thing.
I have never used the business for myself.
Those people are nothing but ungrateful.
I have worked day and night to ensure the business doesn’t crumble to the ground, and the reward for that is them talking behind my back?
Leaving me to drown alone?
They can eat dust for all I care!’ Dorian had stated bluntly.
He was disappointed that the very people who had once trusted him no longer had enough faith to wait, at least for a year, to see how things could turn around.
Yet, deep down, he couldn’t entirely blame them for wanting to escape before the unmentionable happened.
Mr.
Norman could sense the fear simmering beneath the tough exterior Dorian desperately tried to maintain.
‘All I want is what is best for you.
I have already told you everything there is to know.
What happens next still depends on you,’ he had said before taking his leave.
Back in his room, Dorian sat deep in thought.
He had faced losses before.
He had survived difficult moments and found ways to rebuild what he had lost.
But this time, he had no idea where to begin.
Hours passed as he remained seated, his thoughts running in circles.
Every solution he considered seemed to lead to another problem.
Eventually, when it was almost midnight and he still hadn’t found a way to get himself and his company out of the mess, he finally gave in to sleep.
Morning came far less kindly than he had hoped.
The loud noises coming from downstairs dragged him from his sleep.
He tossed and turned on his bed, hoping the commotion would eventually die down, but it was of little help.
With a tired sigh, he reluctantly dragged himself from the bed.
Still dressed in his pajamas, he walked with stiff movements toward the hall.
‘What is going on here?’ he asked one of the servants, who stood nearby with shards of glass in his hand.
‘Sir, actually, there were—’ Dorian barely listened before his eyes moved toward the mess scattered across the floor.
Something had clearly happened.
And judging by the look on the servant’s face, it wasn’t something he was going to like.
Before returning to his room, however, Dorian decided to check on Brielle and the children.
He marched with quiet strides toward their room.
He knocked once.
Then twice.
There was no response.
After waiting for a few seconds, he eventually opened the door, realizing no one was going to answer him.
He first peered his head into the room.
There was no sight of the woman he had brought home.
Only the two children lay peacefully on the bed, fast asleep.
Dorian entered as quietly as he could.
Once inside, he sat at the edge of the bed, staring down at them.
Their peaceful faces somehow made him feel a little better than he had the previous night.
For a brief moment, the problems waiting for him downstairs seemed distant.
He reached out a hand and gently brushed away a stray lash that rested against one of the children’s faces.
Just then, the bathroom door opened.
Dorian turned his head.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
There she stood, the woman he had brought home, stepping out of the bathroom in a bathrobe.
Her hair was still half-dried, droplets of water clinging to the ends and trailing from her ears.
She looked completely different from the frightened, exhausted woman he had found on the streets.
For a moment, Dorian simply stared at her.
She looked nothing like the exhausted and vulnerable woman he had found on the streets the previous night.
There was something different about her now—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Her eyes remained fixed on him as she stood beside the bathroom door, seemingly waiting for an explanation.
Dorian slowly rose from the edge of the bed.
‘You,’ he said, his eyes narrowing.
‘Where did you go?’ The woman’s expression changed.
And for the first time since he had brought her into his home, Dorian noticed something in her eyes that made him wonder if there was far more to her story than she had let him believe.