Vanessa put her hands on the steering wheel, but she was too shaky to drive. Her legs felt stiff and heavy, and there was no way she could drive back to her condo in her condition.
She managed to pull out her phone and speed-dial Justin. “Can you come get me?” she asked as soon as he answered.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was tight. “Where are you?”
“Outside my parents’ house. Hurry.”
* * *
Justin cursed. Vanessa sounded awful, her voice thin and weak. He’d never heard her like that before. What had happened to her? And why was she at her parents’ place instead of the yoga studio?
He wasn’t familiar with L.A., but by taking directions over the phone as he drove he was able to reach the Pryces’ place within an hour. She was slumped over the steering wheel. He got out of his car and knocked on the window. “Hey.”
She raised her head. He gaped at how wretched she looked. Her eyes and nose were red, and tears glistened on her cheeks and chin. Her misery was a kick to his gut, and he opened the door.
“Sweetheart…what’s wrong?”
He got the seatbelt out of the way and wrapped his arms around her. Her control seemed precarious, so he simply cradled her head on his shoulder for the moment. Tremors ran through her; he whispered soothing nothings as he stroked her back.
A man who had to be Salazar’s butler appeared.
“What happened?” Justin demanded, starting to stand up.
“No.” Vanessa put a hand on his chest. “I just want to go home. Please?”
It was an effort not to grab the butler and start shaking answers out of him, but Justin took a rough breath and nodded. He grabbed her keys, purse and other items. “I’ll send somebody for the car.”
“That isn’t strictly necessary, sir,” the man said. “I can have it driven to her condo this afternoon if you’ll leave me the keys.”
Justin nodded in agreement. That would be easier. He didn’t want to leave Vanessa even for a moment.
She sat in the passenger seat, letting Justin take care of every detail. That more than anything else worried him. Vanessa was normally far too independent to just let people do things for her.
Her eyes were closed the entire time he drove, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. The sound of her breathing was erratic, and every so often she’d wipe at her eyes.
When they reached the condo, he made some hot lemon tea and handed it to her. She took a few sips, leaning against the kitchen counter. Then wordlessly, she put the mug down and went to the bedroom, shoulders slumped and feet dragging. She barely managed to kick off her shoes before she fell on the bed and curled up, hugging a pillow. Justin spooned her, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo and sweat.
The part of him that went out and fixed things wanted to grill her until she told him everything. Then he would know what to do. But the empathetic part could see that whatever had happened must’ve been pretty traumatic, and so it would be better to wait until she was ready to talk.
One thing he knew: whoever had hurt her was going to pay. People always said it was Barron who had no sense of proportion, that he was the meanest and most vengeful son of a bitch on the planet. They had no idea. Justin hadn’t just learned from the old man, he’d surpassed him. Just because he kept his claws and fangs hidden didn’t mean they weren’t there.
“I met…my half-sister,” Vanessa said finally.
He frowned. It was no secret her family had a half-brother named Blaine, who was Salazar’s by-blow with some woman in Tennessee. “Blaine has a sister? I thought he was an only ch—”
“No. It’s not Salazar’s. It’s”—she inhaled and exhaled—“hers. My mom’s.”
Justin looked up at the ceiling, thinking Uh oh…
“Her name’s Peggy. My new half-sister.”
He’d always known Ceinlys had lovers. Not that he’d ever blamed her for that—Salazar was the worst kind of playboy and would’ve driven Mother Theresa to cheat on him. But Justin had thought Ceinlys would be more careful. She had a lot more to risk by cheating. The prenup she’d signed ensured she’d lose everything if she misbehaved.
“So…this woman just looked you up out of the blue?” he asked.
“Not exactly. She wants some money.”
He sighed. He should’ve anticipated this and created a way to insulate her from greedy acquaintances and so on. People were going to know—already knew, in fact—that she was married to him, which to them was like winning a jackpot. Money brought out all the roaches. “I’m sorry. I hope you told her to contact my lawyer.”