Chapter 208
Chapter 208:
“They can look,” Elias whispered into her hair. “But they can’t touch.”
They stood there for a long moment, an island of heat in a frozen city.
Five miles away, in the opulent silence of the Reed Mansion, there were no fireworks.
Seven-year-old Noah Reed sat up in his bed, clutching his chest.
His small face was pale, slick with a cold sweat.
“Mommy,” he wheezed. “It hurts.”
Monica Reed rushed into the room. She was dressed for bed, her face covered in night cream. She looked annoyed, not worried.
“Noah, stop it,” she sighed. “You’ve been complaining since you fainted at the party last week. It’s just anxiety. You’re worried about the math test.”
“No,” Noah cried, tears leaking from his eyes. “My chest. It’s squeezing.”
Monica hesitated. She picked up her phone. She didn’t dial 911. She dialed Vivian. She didn’t trust the hospital. Not after she had signed Noah out Against Medical Advice three days ago, convinced by Vivian that the doctors were poisoning him.
“Vivian,” Monica said when the line connected. “Noah is complaining again. Chest pain. Should I take him to the ER? He looks worse than he did at the manor.”
On the other end of the line, Vivian was watching the fireworks, her mind consumed with hatred for Aurora. She barely listened.
“Don’t be dramatic, Monica,” Vivian said, her voice dismissive. “Doctors will just pump him full of steroids. Remember what I told you? It’s the healing crisis. The body has to get worse before it gets better. The hospital almost killed him with that defibrillator. Do you want them to finish the job?”
“He says it hurts to breathe,” Monica said, looking at her son.
“Give him the herbal tea I sent you,” Vivian said, watching Elias help Aurora into a car down on the street. “The detox blend. It clears the pathways. Western medicine is toxic, Monica. You know that. Do you want him to be weak forever?”
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“Right,” Monica said, desperate to be part of the inner circle, desperate to believe the confident, wealthy Kensington heiress. “The tea. Okay.”
She hung up. “No doctor, sweetie,” Monica said to Noah, forcing a smile. “Auntie Vivian says you just need some tea.”
She went downstairs to brew the thick, green sludge.
Back in the city, Elias helped Aurora into the back of his warm, leather-scented car. He didn’t let go of her hand. His thumb traced the knuckles, back and forth, a soothing, possessive rhythm.
“Where are we going?” Aurora asked.
“Home,” Elias said. “Your home. I’m just dropping you off.”
He looked at her, his eyes dark. “Unless you want me to stay.”
Aurora’s breath hitched. She looked at the snow streaking past the window. “Just drop me off. I… I have work. The lab results should be coming in tonight.”
Elias nodded, accepting the boundary, though his hand tightened slightly on hers.
They arrived at the Obsidian Tower. The doorman rushed out with an umbrella.
Elias kissed her forehead. It wasn’t a peck. It was a lingering press of lips against skin, a promise.