Chapter 11
The armored Mercedes-Benz was already speeding away from the Williamson estate when Athena's hand shot out, gripping the plush leather of the front seat.
"Stop," she commanded, her voice thin but sharp. "Turn the car around. Now."
Derik, his eyes on the road in the rearview mirror, saw her face. It was as white as bone china, a stark contrast to the dark, churning fury in her eyes. Without a word, he executed a smooth, three-point turn, the tires crunching on the gravel of the private road. They were heading back.
Her thumb was still pressing down on the red end-call button of her phone, pressing so hard the joint ached. The phantom echo of Godfrey's drunken, greedy voice crawled under her skin like insects.
She took a sharp, jagged breath. The air in the plush, leather-scented car felt too thin.
She couldn't just leave. Godfrey was a parasite. If he couldn't sell her mother's research fast enough, he would absolutely try to leverage his position as Caesar's father-in-law to extract cash directly from the Williamson accounts. She needed to sever that artery before she walked out the front door.
"Pull up to the side entrance," Athena said, her voice tight. "Wait for me. Keep the engine running."
Derik glanced at her again in the mirror, his expression unreadable, then nodded once. "Yes, ma'am."
The moment the car stopped, Athena was out, moving with a silent urgency. She walked away from the waiting vehicle, her steps quick and silent against the stone pathway, heading straight for the master suite.
She pushed the heavy mahogany doors open. They were unlatched, left ajar from the chaos of the medical emergency earlier.
The massive bed was empty. The blankets were thrown aside, pooling on the floor.
A cold spike of panic hit her chest. Where was he? He was supposed to be unconscious. The neurotoxin had nearly stopped his heart less than an hour ago.
Then, she heard it. The heavy, rushing sound of water hitting porcelain. It was coming from the master bathroom.
Athena crossed the bedroom floor in quick strides. She reached the frosted glass entrance of the bathroom and raised her hand to knock.
Before her knuckles could touch the glass, the motion sensors triggered. The double doors slid silently apart, disappearing into the walls.
The visual hit her like a physical blow to the stomach.
The bathroom was a cavern of dark marble and steam. In the center, beside a massive, sunken soaking tub, was Caesar.
He was out of his wheelchair.
He was entirely naked from the waist up. His back was to her, and the sight of it made her breath hitch. It wasn't just the broad, heavily muscled expanse of his shoulders. It was the scars. Thick, jagged lines of raised tissue crisscrossed his skin, a brutal map of the car crash that had nearly ended his life in her previous timeline.
His hands were gripping the wet, slippery edge of the marble tub. The knuckles were bone-white. Every muscle in his arms and back was corded with a terrifying strain, the effort monumental. He was trying to haul himself out of his chair and onto the bathing ledge, a feat of upper body strength, refusing to call for the nurses he had just banished.
His legs, pale and limp, began to slide from the footrests at an unnatural angle.
His right palm slipped off the wet marble with a sharp squeak.
Caesar's massive frame pitched sideways. Gravity took over, pulling him toward the hard, unforgiving tile floor.
"Careful!" Athena screamed.
Her body moved before her brain could process the danger. She sprinted across the slick floor, her shoes skidding.
She threw herself under him just as his shoulder was about to smash into the ground.
She didn't catch him. It was impossible. Instead, she braced for impact, becoming a human shield.
The impact drove the air from her lungs in a violent rush. His weight crashed down, pinning her against the floor and the hard edge of the tub. Pain exploded in her ribs, but she held on, wrapping her arms under his wet, scalding hot armpits, using her entire body weight to absorb the fall and brace him against the side of the tub.
They were pressed together, chest to chest. The water from the tub splashed over the edge, instantly soaking the front of her dress.
His skin was burning up, radiating a feverish heat from the toxin aftershocks. She could feel the frantic, heavy thud of his heart against her own ribs. The scent of him-sharp cedar and metallic sweat-filled her nose. The thick steam and the panic of the moment clouded her senses, preventing her from analyzing the state of his leg muscles. All she felt was dead weight and burning heat.
For one second, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing echoing off the marble walls.
Then, the beast woke up.
Caesar realized a woman was holding him. He realized she was seeing him helpless, broken, and weak.
His jaw locked. The veins in his neck bulged.
He shoved her. Hard.
"Get out!" Caesar roared.
The force of his push sent Athena stumbling backward. Her heels slipped on the wet tile, and she crashed hard against the glass wall of the shower stall. Pain flared in her shoulder blade, but she didn't cry out.
She looked at him. He was leaning heavily against the tub, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with a murderous, humiliated rage. He looked like a wounded wolf ready to tear out the throat of anyone who witnessed his injury.
Athena didn't run. She didn't cower.
She pushed herself off the glass. She walked straight to the heated towel rack, grabbed a massive, thick white bath towel, and marched back to him.
She threw the towel over his scarred shoulders, effectively covering his nakedness and his vulnerability in one aggressive motion.
"You almost cracked your skull open," Athena said, her voice flat, refusing to acknowledge his anger. "And I don't have time to scrape your brains off the floor. I have a problem."
Caesar gripped the edges of the towel. His knuckles were still white. The water dripped from his dark hair onto his forehead. He glared at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"I told you to get out," he said, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet rasp.
"I'm not here to spy on you," Athena said, stepping closer. She forced herself to maintain absolute eye contact. "Godfrey just called me."
At the mention of her father's name, the humiliated rage in Caesar's eyes shifted. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. The predator replaced the victim.
"And?" Caesar demanded.
"He is desperate," Athena said, her words clipping out fast and sharp. "He is going to use the Rocha Biotech connection, and his new status as your father-in-law, to come to you for a bailout. He will ask for financing. He will tell you it's a bridge loan."
Caesar narrowed his eyes. The water droplets slid down his sharp jawline. "You came into my bathroom to tell me your father is a beggar?"
"I came to tell you that his company is a black hole," Athena corrected, her tone turning icy. "He is embezzling. If you give him a single dime, you will never see it again."
Caesar tilted his head slightly. The anger was fading, replaced by a cold, calculating scrutiny. "You are actively trying to cut off your own father's financial lifeline."
"I am trying to save my husband's money," Athena countered smoothly. She took a step closer, invading his space again. "That is our marital asset now, isn't it? I don't want him touching what belongs to us."
The words hung in the steamy air. Our marital asset. Us.
Caesar stared at her. He searched her face for the trap, for the lie. He saw only a hard, unyielding resolve. She was throwing her own blood relatives under the bus to protect his empire.
A dark, cynical amusement flickered in the depths of his black eyes.
"If Godfrey Madden comes to my board," Caesar said slowly, his voice a low rumble, "I will ensure he leaves with nothing but a bruised ego. He won't get a cent."
"Good," Athena said. The tight knot in her stomach finally loosened.
She stepped back. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her hyper-aware of the cold, wet fabric of her dress clinging to her breasts.
Caesar's gaze dropped. He noticed the wet silk plastered to her skin, outlining every curve. His eyes darkened, the pupils expanding slightly.
"Now," Caesar said, his voice suddenly thicker, rougher. "Get out. Unless you plan on getting in the tub and washing my back."
The heat rushed to Athena's cheeks, a violent flush that she couldn't control. Her skin burned under his intense, predatory stare.
She turned around without another word.
She walked out of the bathroom, her wet heels clicking sharply against the floor.
The sensor doors slid shut behind her, cutting off the heavy, suffocating tension, but she could still feel his eyes burning into her spine all the way to the elevator.
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