The afternoon settled slowly over the Kensington estate, painting the vineyards in shades of gold and orange. After a full day of forced rest with Christian personally supervising my intake of fluids and medicine with almost comical intensity, I finally felt strong enough to leave the bedroom.
I walked through the gardens, breathing in the fresh air I’d missed so much. The virus had eased, leaving only a lingering fatigue and a hunger that was finally starting to return after a liquid diet.
Christian had insisted on coming with me, but an urgent call from Marcus about the Niharan investors had demanded his attention. “Ten minutes,” he promised, kissing my forehead before heading back inside. “Don’t go far.”
The garden was a sophisticated labyrinth of meticulously trimmed hedges and classical statues. Joseph had mentioned it was a replica of a Castorian garden, designed by his own father when the mansion was built.
I found a stone bench half-hidden by a tall hedge, the perfect spot to rest while watching the sunset. I sat, closed my eyes, and let the late-day warmth wash over my face.
The crunch of footsteps on gravel made me aware of someone’s approach, but I kept my eyes shut, imagining it was Christian returning from his call.
“A vision worth contemplating, without a doubt.”
My eyes snapped open, tension coursing through me as I recognized the voice. Anthony Kensington stood a few feet away, watching me with an intensity that made me instinctively straighten.
“Anthony.” I kept my tone neutral as I rose. “Christian will be here any moment.”
“I doubt it.” He smiled, stepping closer. “Marcus just tied him up in a video conference with the Niharan. Something about discrepancies in the contracts that will take at least half an hour of his attention.”
The satisfaction in his voice made it clear the “problem” had been orchestrated. I took a step sideways, trying to keep my distance.
“Well then, I’d better head back to the house.”
Anthony moved with surprising speed, blocking my way. Without the social pretext of a party, without other people around, something in his demeanor had shifted. The forced charm had given way to something more predatory. More raw.
“You really are remarkable, Zoey.” His eyes roamed over me, making no attempt to disguise his scrutiny. “I can see what Christian saw in you. That air of innocence, mixed with fire… very alluring.”
“Excuse me.” I tried to sidestep him, but he moved again, cutting me off.
“What intrigues me is what you saw in him.” He took another step forward, forcing me to back up. “The money is obvious, of course. But there must be more. Christian was always so… restrained. So predictable.”
His insinuations were impossible to ignore, but I refused to feed the confrontation.
“I’m not interested in this conversation.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Get out of my way, Anthony.”
Instead of stepping back, he advanced again, shrinking the space between us to almost nothing.
“You know, you remind me of her. Francesca, when she was younger.” His gaze sharpened. “The same energy. The same… hunger for something more.’


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