Page 129 of We Three Kings

I should never have let Seraphina have any doubts about our love for her.

She’s woken up twice and twice she looks at all of us with tears and distrust. I can’t get her to tell me why. None of us can.

Maybe Bree will be able to.

I give up my hold on Seraphina’s hand as well as my chair. Bree easily accepts both, scootching the legs as close as she can to hold onto my angel.

Alex shakes my hand, but his gaze lingers on my dad and brother. We all look as shitty as we feel.

Melchior stomps out, pissed as hell we’re leaving. I’m not pleased either but what choice do I have. I need Bree to get through to Seraphina. I can’t take her being so distraught. I need my angel to have her light back.

My father simmers under the surface. He can’t even kiss Seraphina goodbye in front of her friends. They don’t know how our relationship works, let alone understand the unique situation.

Normally, he wouldn’t give a damn. Despite his concern over Seraphina, he’d never jeopardize her friendships. Especially in her fragile emotional state. She’d never come back from the anguish, and neither would we.

I cracked open the door earlier in anticipation of their visit. When I let her know what happened, Bree raced back from their honeymoon. Now the opening seems normal, and I can eavesdrop.

Sneakers squeak on the sleek tile behind me.

“Balthazar!”

London.

I spin around and shock bounces through me. I thought we looked bad. Fuck.

Tear-streaked make-up, tangled hair drooping down on one side, mismatched jacket and pants. As if she threw on the first thing she touched in her closet and raced here.

I wouldn’t recognize her except for her voice.

“How is she?”

“Not good.”

My best friend grabs her throat and sobs. I’ve not ever seen her like this. She’s never emotional.

“I should never have left her. The hotel had security, and I really thought she was fine.”

God.

“I mean I was just telling her—how perfect everything was. That setting you up turned out so much better than I ever imagined and now this.”

I ignore the rest of London’s babbling. Connections start sparking in my mind.

The last thing Seraphina text me before the attack was that she was leaving.

She was fine when she left the table.

So that means something happened between the ballroom and the bathroom.

I look at my crying friend.

London happened.

Motherfucker. I start listening to her gibberish again.

“You told her you hired her for me?”

London’s never been scared of me. Until now.