Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 14•

•Word Count: 2,460

To say I'm fairly prepared for this confrontation is a lie. I'm far too physically drained to talk to an ill-mannered man who hides behind his enticingly charming aura.
A handsome face and an impressive build are a waste on an off-putting personality.

Determined to meet the man with curtness, I sport a granite hard countenance, which drops immediately when I open the door and two heads turn in my direction.

So much for the tough girl role, my prides tsks at me.

It's the pair of red rimmed eyes that distract me from everything else.
Never mind that the everything else is Elias, who rocks a stoic expression, and a sound asleep Élise sprawled across a small fraction of his real estate of a chest.
It's a shame, really, having that stupid thing in my chest melting at the sight.

Nothing prepares me for the force of Clara's collision as she lunges at me, crying over my shoulder so noisily that I start to think someone might've died. It takes me a couple of clumsy staggers to steady myself -and Clara- once again.

"Oh, thank God" Clara weeps, her voice a little bit adenoidal from all the crying.
Instantly, guilt sneaks in and guides my soothing hand up and down her back.

"I'm so sorry, Clara. You and Élise were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up"

"You left your phone! I thought something happened to you" She replies accusingly, crying harder. She's trembling so hard I have to hold her tighter in fear her legs might give out.
I'm hyperaware of Elias's presence but I make sure not to look at him, yet he continues to gaze at me, curious eyes spearing the entirety of my back as I traipse, with Clara leaning into me, towards her room.

She tells me she did the only thing her panicked mind led her to; she ran to the men outside, who didn't hesitate to call Elias.

Guilt-stricken, I guide the trembling mess that is Clara into her room, tuck her in bed, and with the help of a Donormyl (a sleeping pill), I finally get to see her eyes glaze over with drowsiness.

Before she completely succumbs, she mumbles a hoarse "I'm sorry" that's followed by a lone tear, which slides from her tear dock, across the bridge of her nose, and onto the pillow. She's often more composed than this, making me fall further into the abyss of guilt. As I'm shutting the door to her room, I make a mental note to assess the immensity of the situation later, after I've put Élise back in bed.
No sleep for me tonight, it seems.

Elias is still sitting, somewhat comfortably, in the same spot on the armchair, staring unemotionally straight ahead.
Silently, I pick Élise up, with no resistance from his part thankfully, turning her over so I can place her head on my shoulder. I've only taken two steps toward our room, when he decides to speak.

"Where were you ?" Elias asks irately, as though the tether that was his patience just snapped.
I pause with my back facing him. Honestly, I was surprised he remained silent all this time. Turning, I contemplate ignoring him but figure I have this irresistible urge to push his buttons.

"I went hunting" I begin, watching his face harden and his jaw tick. "for fresh air" I finish, only to watch the vein in his forehead pop as he attempts to hide the irritation.
Despite the spiteful response, he nods.
That's all I get -a nod. I pretend his response wasn't something I anticipated, so I turn to leave.

"How you made it past my men, I'm not quite certain but.." He says, standing up and grabbing his coat. "I'll make it my job to figure it out"

Something about the way he's looking at me tells me that he'll remain true to his threat until he figures it out. Fine, I'll be extra careful next time.