Cauldron was on his phone the entire time, reading emails and typing back with quick fingers. His responses were always direct orders. There was never an introduction of any kind, a polite greeting at the beginning of his emails. Just as he was in real life, it was straight to business.
We drove down the scenic roads and farther up the hill, the blue water growing more distant as we headed to his private residence. The village with the shops and restaurants was closer to the water, and that was probably why he chose to live farther away, where he could have the pristine view and the privacy.
When I’d propositioned Cauldron, I’d never expected it to take the turn that it did. I thought we’d come up with a plan, that I would get Grave to meet me somewhere, and then Cauldron would pull in and blow him to hell.
But instead, I was back to where I started.
The gates opened, and we pulled into the roundabout. The front of his property was cloaked in shade from all the trees. I noticed white lights were wrapped around the trunks and branches, like he lit it up for the parties he threw.
It was a three-story house, a large awning in the front with statues, windows with white shutters. It was a mansion far too big for a single man, and most of the other rooms were probably occupied by the staff that lived and worked there.
The top floor probably belonged to him exclusively. That’s undoubtedly where I would end up.
The men unloaded the car and grabbed all the luggage.
The butler opened the enormous double doors to greet his master, aware of his imminent arrival as soon as one of the guys in the car radioed in Cauldron’s approach. With his hands behind his back and a welcoming smile on his face, he looked thrilled to see his master return home.
That smile disappeared when he saw me.
I smiled back, giving him a playful wave to top it off.
Cauldron walked inside, gave a slight nod in acknowledgment to his butler, then continued on his way like he didn’t notice his horror-struck face.
I almost laughed.
“Uh, sir.” He abandoned his post and went after his master. “I apologize, but I’m just a bit confused—”
“She’ll occupy a bedroom on my floor. She can choose whichever one she likes.” Cauldron kept walking, typing on his phone. “What’s your name?” He turned back around and looked at me, only realizing then he had no idea who I was.
“Camille.”
Cauldron continued forward.
The men carried the luggage to the stairs and began the long journey to the top of the house.
The butler kept at it. “Mr. Beaufort, this is the very woman who trespassed on your property several times, the very one you had me threaten to shoot if she ever returned to the premises, and now—”
“And now she’ll live at the residence, Hugo. She’s a guest in this house—treat her as such.” Cauldron disappeared around the corner, his voice carrying back to us because he took a phone call.
Hugo stood there for a while, completely beside himself.
“I can be very persuasive, you know.”
He slowly turned back around and looked at me, his eyes like knives aimed at my throat. “I will do as Mr. Beaufort asks, but make no mistake, as long as you’re under this roof, I will watch your every move.”
“If that’s how you want to spend your time…” I headed upstairs to the top floor, walking along the hardwood floor, admiring the crown molding on the ceilings, the golden sconces that matched the floral wallpaper. Fresh flowers were on display on various surfaces, making the house smell like an outdoor garden rather than an enclosed space. We passed several doors, leading to bedchambers with rosy-pink duvets, crystal chandeliers, threadbare hearthrugs in front of wood-burning fireplaces.
We passed closed double doors, and I assumed they led to Cauldron’s bedchambers. There was another closed door, and I assumed that was his office. When we reached the end of the hallway, I decided to take the corner bedroom.
My luggage from the yacht was carried inside, a bedroom that had its own bathroom and sitting room that faced a large fireplace with a flat-screen hanging above. It had its own patio too, overlooking the backyard that I hadn’t seen before.
The men left my suitcase on one of the couches and departed.
Now I was alone, in a place I would call home.
I opened the door and stepped onto the patio, seeing the breathtaking view. He had an infinity pool at the edge of his property, which was what appeared to be the cliffside. The vista of Cap-Ferrat was unbelievable, the ocean as well as the village which held the bakeries and cafés. The estate was large enough to hold a wedding, with grounds that stretched far on either side of the home.