Chapter 32

Kane’s POV

“What just happened in there?” Jayson demanded, his voice trailing behind me as he struggled to keep up.

I didn't answer. I kept walking toward the parking lot, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, my jaw clenched so tightly my teeth ached.

No matter how hard I tried to force it down, the memory of her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stood her ground kept replaying in my head. I hated how deeply her tears bugged me.

‘Why do I even care about her damned crocodile tears?’ I sneered inwardly, silencing the guilt I felt towards her. ‘Women like her are master manipulators. They always spin the narrative to make themselves out to be the innocent victim.’

“Fuck you, Kane!” Jayson panted, finally catching up to me by my car. He stared at me like I had lost my mind and for a split second back in that foyer, maybe I had.

I never lost my cool. Not for anyone.

“Do you honestly think creating a public scene will make her confess?” Jayson inquired, his eyes narrowing as he studied my face. “What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Not now, Jayson.” I grabbed the rear door handle just as Maxine started the engine. “I have a mountain of paperwork awaiting me at home. Should I have Maxine drop you at your penthouse, or the Meridian?”

“That’s not an answer, and besides, I brought my own car,” he spat, throwing his hands up.

“What do you want me to say?” I shrugged, my voice nonchalant

“Why you thought it was wise to act irrationally up there?”

“The fact that she fled from the interrogation you set up? Or the fact that she keeps conveniently popping up everywhere I go?” I looked at him like he was the one who had lost his head. “For me, Jayson, that is more than enough reason to cause a scene.”

“God, who are you right now? What happened to the cool-headed Kane I’ve known for years?” he flared up.

“You’re being loud right now.” I groaned.

Before Jayson could fire back, a sharp, wailing siren suddenly pierced the air. The sound echoed off the concrete walls, forcing both of us to turn toward the side entrance of the restaurant.

An ambulance rushed into the lot, its red emergency lights flashing against the pavement as it screeched to a halt. My eyes tracked the paramedics as they burst out of the back doors with a gurney.

Lying on the stretcher was an unconscious woman.

Esmeralda.

I blinked, half-expecting my vision to clear and reveal someone else.

But I could never mistake that long, wavy blonde hair. A heavy pang of pain hit my heart.

“Is that…” Jayson took a step forward, squinting through the sunlight. “Is that not Esmeralda?”

I froze mid-breath.

For a terrifying second, the rest of the world blurred into absolute background noise. I felt an overwhelming urge to run to the paramedics to make sure she was still breathing and ask if she'd be okay.

‘She is a liar, a manipulator,’ I reminded myself desperately.

Why does seeing her unconscious scare the shit out of me? Why do I feel all my control slipping away?

I took a half-step forward but stopped dead.

A darker, colder thought clawed its way into my head. ‘What if this is just another one of her games?’

What if this was all staged to trap me? To play the helpless victim and blame me for her breakdown? I could already see the headlines plastered across tomorrow morning’s tabloids.

BILLIONAIRE KANE RAVELLO ASSAULTS WAITRESS, LEAVES HER TO COLLAPSE AFTER PUBLIC HUMILIATION.

It was the ultimate playbook move. To secure the public's sympathy and, of course, get paid.

“Kane?” Jayson asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “Are you coming?”

“No.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my head to turn away. I wasn't falling for her trap.

“What?” Jayson frowned in sheer disbelief. “You’re seriously not even going to check on her?”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“Are you kidding me right now, Kane?”

I answered him by climbing into the back seat of the sedan and pulling the door shut. “Maxine,” I commanded coldly. “Take me home.”

“You cruel son of a bitch,” I heard Jayson curse through the glass.

As the car rolled out of the parking lot, my eyes traitorously flicked to the side mirror. Through the tinted glass, I caught one last glimpse of the flashing red lights.

I hated myself for losing my restraint. I hated that a part of me still cared.

By the time Maxine pulled into the estate driveway, it was late in the evening. I stepped out of the car, but stopped dead in my tracks.

Parked right by the front steps was a bright yellow Porsche.

My chest tightened as a bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth. I knew that car all too well. It was the exact same vehicle parked in that exact spot the same afternoon my world burned to the ground.

Adrian’s car.

A dark, humorless laugh escaped my lips. They’re getting careless now. Did they honestly think I was going to sleep at the office again like I’d been doing for weeks? Well, it seemed everyone was in for a little surprise tonight.

I pushed open the grand double doors.

“Welcome home, sir!” Mrs. Matilda hurried toward me from the main hallway, taking a breath. “Where have you been….. I mean, forgive me, sir. You’re welcome home.”

“Thank you,” I answered stiffly. My tone wasn't directed at her disrespect, but at the betrayal waiting for me deeper in the house.

She offered a polite smile. “Would you like me to inform the chef to prepare something for you?”

“Yes,” I said, loosening my tie with one hand. “Anything that tastes like real food.”

“Of course, sir.”

I hadn't realized how starved I was for a real home-cooked meal until now. For nearly two months, my diet had consisted of cold restaurant catering, overpriced takeout, and quick bites squeezed between back-to-back board meetings.

Matilda lingered, her posture stiffening. “Actually, sir… you have a visitor.”

I already knew who it was, but I paused anyway. “Who?”

She hesitated, but the sheer disgust in her eyes was impossible to hide. “Your... Brother.”