The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 285

Chapter 251: Paris-1

Caleb POV

The rain was coming down hard against the windshield of my SUV. I sat alone in the driver’s seat in the hospital parking lot, the engine idling, staring up at the glowing windows of the high-risk ward. I had just walked out of Bella’s room, but my feet felt heavy, like they were glued to the floor mats. I didn’t want to put the car in drive.

My phone buzzed against the center console. I picked it up, saw it was James, and swiped to answer, my voice dropping into a harsh register.

*James, cancel the flight,” I said before he could speak. “I am not going to Paris. Call the Volkova team and tell them we are pushing the closing back a week.”

“Sir? What is wrong?” James sounded completely caught off guard over the line. “The private jet is fueled, and the gate closes in less than two hours. I have the papers ready. You have spent months of this acquisition, Mr. Black. It has four heritage properties, a private bank, and a fashion house stake. We cannot just push it back.”

“Bella is stuck in a high-risk ward, James!” I slammed my right hand against the steering wheel, the loud crack echoing in the quiet car. “She is seven months pregnant. Her cervix is shortening. The doctors are trying to stop early labor, and I am supposed to get on a plane to France? It is insane. It is wrong.”

“Sir, listen to me,” James said, his voice lowering, trying to calm me down. “Is Mrs. Black stable right now?”

“She says she is. The nurses say she is. But she is on strict bedrest,” I muttered, resting my forehead against the cold leather of the steering wheel. “She told me there is nothing I can do here but sit in a plastic chair and watch her sleep. She practically ordered me to leave.”

“Then you need to listen to her,” James pressed. “Black Enterprises needs this close. If you pull out now, the Volkovas will think we are weak, and they will walk away from the valuation agreement. We cannot lose those European assets. If Mrs. Black is telling you to go, you need to go.”

“I don’t care about the assets right now,” I snapped, the anger bleeding out of me and turning into something heavy and sharp. “I care about my wife. I care about the baby. Leaving her alone in that room feels like a failure. If something happens while I am over the Atlantic, what am I supposed to do? Call the clinic from thirty thousand feet?”

“Nadia i can assume is already at the house with Tom and Grace, sir,” James reminded me gently. “The children are safe and fed. Definitely the Dr. is keeping track of the medical reports. Mrs. Black is not alone. You are a man who solves problems, Mr. Black, but you cannot solve biology. Go to Paris. Do what you are actually good at.”

The words stung but he was right.

“I will be back before the weekend,” I said, my voice thick as I shifted the car into drive. “Three days. No more.”

“Three days,” James agreed. “I will have the car waiting for you the second you land at Charles de Gaulle.”

Lam moving.” I said, hanging up the phone I looked up at the hospital window one last time, my jaw set Tight, and pulled out into the dark, wet streets.

The private dining room in the Paris hotel was too hot. The air smelled of expensive wine and heavy perfume. There were eight of us at the long mahogany table, but my eyes kept tracking the woman sitting directly opposite me.

Nadina Volkova was not dressed for a legal closing. She wore a deep-red silk dress that cut very low across her chest, the bright fabric completely out of place among the dark gray corporate suits in the

room.

Every time she reached for her wine glass, she moved with a slow, heavy grace, making sure the silk shifted against her skin.

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