The “out of control” black car, sensing trouble, suddenly righted itself, spun around, and sped off into the night.
Gideon didn’t bother to give chase. He calmly pulled out his phone and dialed. “North Second Avenue, eastbound. License plate six–five–six–six–one.”
It took Celestine a long moment to process what had just happened.
So… was that an attempted murder?
It wasn’t the first time she’d been through something like this. Back when she first married Chester, she’d experienced something eerily similar.
They were newlyweds then, still living in Portside City. On a whim, she decided to pick Chester up from work one evening. The family only had one car–Chester’s Bentley, which he drove every day.
But as she neared the office, disaster struck.
The accident was bad. She spent three months in the hospital recovering.
Chester only visited her once–the day after the crash.
“Focus on getting better. From now on, just stay home and play the good Mrs. Fordham. You should really get out less.”
“If you didn’t do such foolish things, none of this would have happened.”
At the time, Celestine had no idea what had really caused the accident. Chester’s words sent her spiraling into guilt, convinced she’d done nothing but make trouble for him once again.
It wasn’t until much later that she learned, quite by accident, that the crash had actually been a failed assassination attempt on Chester. She’d just happened to be driving his car that day.
Just as Chester, by coincidence, had been on his way to the airport to pick up Joanna, who was flying in to Portside City–meaning he’d missed both the accident and the immediate aftermath.
Memories she thought she’d buried cracked open, leaving her stunned and lost in thought.
Gideon helped her sit up, checking her over for injuries. She seemed unhurt, but he frowned, noticing her faraway look.
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“What’s wrong? Did I scare you that badly?”
Celestine snapped back to the present. “No… no, I’m fine.”
The car sat parked beneath a streetlamp, the dashboard quietly ticking in the
silence.
Her long lashes fluttered in uncertainty, and she found herself meeting Gideon’s eyes–dark, deep, and impossibly hard to read.
He arched a brow, clearly unconvinced.
Celestine quickly changed the subject. “That driver… were they after you?”
“Probably.” Gideon’s voice dropped a notch, smooth and reassuring. “But you don’t have to worry. I know how to handle myself behind the wheel. They’re not going to
touch us. You’re safe here.”
Celestine’s mind went blank.
What was that supposed to mean… would there be a next time?
She tried not to dwell on it, telling herself Gideon was just trying to put her at ease.
Because of the delay, it was nearly dawn by the time they finally reached her apartment complex.
Gideon pulled into a spot in the surface lot. As Celestine got out, she caught sight of a sliver of blue peeking from his trouser pocket.
It was the good luck charm she’d given him earlier that day.
Mr. Shield actually kept it.
Gideon glanced over, following her gaze. A slow, knowing smile played at his lips. “Miss Selwyn, don’t you think this might be a bit inappropriate before the divorce is final?”
Celestine’s face turned scarlet.
What is he thinking?!
But, to be fair, she realized just where she’d been looking–it was easy to get the wrong idea.
Mortified, she yanked off her seatbelt and got out of the car in a hurry.
Gideon grinned, amused. She was actually blushing.
He pocketed his keys, slipped one hand in his pocket, and strolled after her. “Wait
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Chapter 118
for me.”
Celestine pretended not to hear and picked up her pace.
But luck wasn’t with her tonight. As she reached the entrance, her heel snagged in a storm drain grate. No matter how she tugged, it wouldn’t budge.
Could this night get any worse?
Before she could dwell on it, a tall shadow fell across her.
Gideon crouched down, his hands gentle but confident as he wrapped his fingers around her ankle.
“Hold on to me.”
It was a command, but Celestine found herself instinctively resting her hands on his shoulder.
