Her voice holds a note of panic. “What about your wedding?”
“I guess that’s down the drain too.”
She glances toward the stairs. “Then why did Leon send a moving company to collect your things?”
“I have no idea.” Stepping from my room, I push past her. “I’ll go find out.”
The tightness of my stomach hasn’t eased since last night. My tension only grows as I walk down the stairs with my mom following on my heels.
Two women wait stoically at the entrance.
“Good morning, ma’am,” the blond one says, checking the clipboard in her hand. “Miss Starley?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Susan from Peters International. We’re here to pack up your clothes and personal belongings.”
“There’s been a mistake,” I say.
The women glance at each other.
Susan takes a phone from her pocket. “I’m sure we’ll sort it out.” She swipes a finger across the screen and lifts the phone to her ear. “Let me dial Mr. Hart.”
“That’s okay,” I say quickly. “I’ll call him myself.”
The woman is undeterred. Turning her back on me, she says, “Yes, Mr. Hart? It’s Susan from Peters International on the line. There seems to be confusion with regards to the move you booked for this morning.”
She falls quiet, shooting me a look from over her shoulder as she listens to his reply.
“Let me talk to him,” I say, holding out my hand for the phone.
Ignoring me, she faces forward again. “Yes, Mr. Hart. No problem. I’ll tell her.” She hangs up, pockets the phone, and faces me again. “Mr. Hart says he’s on his way.”
Just as I open my mouth to tell her that won’t be necessary, the intercom by the front door buzzes.
My mom goes over and answers with, “Yes?”
Leon’s deep voice booms through the system. “Hi, Gia. It’s Leon.”
My throat closes up. He’s here? Already? He must’ve been planning on meeting the moving company.
Looking at me, my mom raises her palm in a helpless gesture. I shake my head, but she’s already pressing on the button to open the gates.
“Come on in, Leon.” When she’s hung up, she says, “We can’t not let him in. Even if he’s no longer your betrothed, he’s still a colleague of Gus.”
“Wait here,” I say, shaking a little as I open the door. “Leon and I need a few minutes.”
My mom brushes her palms over her skirt before motioning to the lounge. “Ladies, why don’t you wait in here? Can I get you something to drink? It’s already so hot outside, isn’t it?”
The women’s reply is lost on me as I step outside and close the door. All I can focus on is the blue Aston Martin that comes to a stop behind the truck. I stand rooted to the spot, watching Leon with growing dread as he gets out of the car and makes his way over with long but unhurried strides.
He’s wearing dark jeans, a faded T-shirt, and a leather jacket—his signature work attire. Only, he’s not at the office where Elliot must be moving his precious Johannesburg Country Club mug and coaster to his new desk. He’s here, pinning me with a stare cold enough to freeze the sun. It’s a violent kind of cold, the kind that only dangerous men possess. They don’t make threats or raise their voices. They pull the trigger calmly and quietly. They’re efficiently deadly.
He stops two steps away from me, measuring me with that cool gaze. “Violet.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Leon.”
“The moving company employee said there’s a confusion.”
Lifting my chin, I try to look confident instead of scared. “Yes.” I wave a hand at the truck. “What’s the meaning of this?”
He looks over his shoulder at the vehicle, studying it for a second before turning back to me. “You’re moving in with me.” His words are flat, toneless. “We’re getting married.”
The word pops out of its own accord. “No.”
He raises a brow, an unfriendly smile playing on his sensual lips. “No?”
My mouth is so dry it feels as if my lips are glued together. I have to wet them before I can speak. “That’s what I said.”
He advances on me, closing the small distance between us and putting our bodies flush together. “Once again, you’re mistakenly assuming I’m asking.”
I back up, my heel hitting the step behind me. “Gus won’t force me.”
His smile turns mocking. “Because I’m not his new partner after all?”
Not sure how to answer that without provoking his anger, I remain quiet.