Chapter 5 - The Night Casius Learned His Accident Was No Accident
Delphine stepped in front of Casius.
Again.
Sterling almost laughed.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Delphine.”
“No.”
For eleven years, Sterling Bowmont had spoken his oldest daughter's name as though it were an inconvenience.
Now she spoke to him without lowering her eyes.
“You knew about the fire.”
Sterling's face remained expressionless.
“Move away from him.”
“You knew.”
“It wasn't supposed to happen.”
Delphine went still.
Casius watched Sterling.
“What wasn't supposed to happen?”
“The explosion.”
Sterling's gun remained steady.
“Matteo wanted records destroyed. He said the building would be empty.”
“But Delphine was inside.”
“I didn't know.”
Delphine's voice cracked.
“You were there.”
Sterling said nothing.
“I heard you.”
His face changed.
Barely.
That was enough.
Delphine understood.
“You knew I was inside.”
“After.”
“You left me.”
“No.”
“You left me!”
Sterling's voice finally rose.
“I came back!”
“After the explosion!”
“You survived.”
The sentence destroyed something.
Not because it was cruel.
Because Sterling apparently believed survival absolved him.
Delphine stared at her father.
Casius had seen that expression before.
In rehabilitation.
The moment a patient realized the old life was not coming back.
Grief did not always arrive when something died.
Sometimes it arrived when you finally understood something had never existed.
Delphine had spent eleven years wondering whether her father loved her badly.
Now she understood.
He loved himself more.
Casius squeezed her hand.
Sterling noticed.
“You think he cares about you?”
Delphine said nothing.
“He married you because Camille humiliated him.”
Casius answered.
“No.”
Sterling looked at him.
“I married her because she said yes.”
“Same difference.”
“Not anymore.”
Delphine turned slightly.
Casius looked up at her.
“For eleven years, your family treated you like evidence they needed to hide.”
Sterling's face tightened.
Casius continued.
“You should have realized something.”
“What?”
“Evidence becomes dangerous when somebody finally listens to it.”
Sterling raised the gun.
Then the lights went out.
Darkness.
Delphine dropped.
Casius heard movement.
A body struck furniture.
A gunshot exploded.
Glass shattered.
Then Gideon's voice:
“Casius!”
Emergency lights flickered on.
Sterling lay against the desk.
Gideon had his wrist pinned.
The gun was several feet away.
Delphine crawled toward Casius.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
She checked anyway.
Hands on his shoulders.
Chest.
Face.
Casius caught her wrist.
“Delphine.”
She stopped.
“I'm fine.”
Her eyes filled.
He realized she had thought she might lose him.
The realization did something dangerous to his chest.
Police were not called immediately.
In their world, police complicated things.
Salvatore was.
He arrived forty minutes later.
The ledger lay before him.
So did Sterling's gun.
Camille gave a statement.
Gideon provided evidence.
Sterling sat silently.
Salvatore read for nearly an hour.
When he finished, he looked older.
“Where is Matteo?”
Casius answered.
“Gone.”
“Then find him.”
“We will.”
Salvatore looked at Sterling.
“The Bowmont debt is larger than an insult now.”
Sterling said nothing.
By sunrise, the gala guests had been sent home.
Rumors were already moving through New Orleans.
They always did.
But this time the rumor was not about Delphine's face.
It was about Sterling Bowmont.
And Matteo Ferraro.
Three days passed.
Casius barely slept.
Neither did Delphine.
On the fourth night, he found her sitting in the kitchen at two in the morning.
No makeup.
Hair loose.
Scar visible.
A cup of tea between her hands.
Casius stopped beside the table.
“You're leaving.”
Delphine looked up.
Her suitcase stood near the doorway.
The same suitcase.
One bag.
Again.
“Sterling is contained,” she said.
“Matteo isn't.”
“You're safer here.”
“That isn't why.”
Casius waited.
Delphine stared at her tea.
“The arrangement is finished.”
His jaw tightened.
“What arrangement?”
“The marriage.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Casius.”
“You're my wife.”
“Because my sister insulted you.”
“No.”
“That's how it began.”
“That's not why you're still here.”
She looked away.
“Why am I still here?”
The question was quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
Casius had negotiated with men holding guns.
He had spoken before tables where one wrong sentence could destroy years of peace.
None of those moments felt as difficult as answering Delphine.
“Because I want you here.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
He could have given an easier answer.
Instead:
“Because when you walk into a room, you look at me before you look at the chair.”
Delphine's eyes filled.
“Because you ask before helping me.”
He moved closer.
“Because you spent twenty months trying to prove someone attempted to kill a man who barely remembered your name.”
Her tears spilled.
“And because every time someone tries to hurt me, you stand in front of me even though I keep telling you not to.”
She laughed through tears.
“That's a terrible habit.”
“Yes.”
“You hate it.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
Casius realized he was.
He reached for her hand.
“Stay.”
Delphine whispered:
“Because of the alliance?”
“No.”
“The table?”
“No.”
“Obligation?”
“No.”
She was crying openly now.
“Then ask me properly.”
Casius understood.
Nobody had asked her the first time.
Not Sterling.
Not Marjo.
Not him.
So he did.
“Delphine Bowmont Ferraro, do you want to stay married to me?”
She laughed.
Then covered her mouth.
Casius waited.
Four seconds.
Exactly four.
“Yes.”
He pulled her gently toward him.
Their first kiss was not dramatic.
No orchestra.
No ballroom.
No chandelier.
Just a dark kitchen at two in the morning.
And for both of them, it was enough.
Then Casius's phone rang.
Gideon.
Casius answered.
“What?”
“We found Matteo.”
“Where?”
A pause.
Then Gideon said:
“St. Catherine Rehabilitation Center.”
Delphine's face changed.
Casius understood immediately.
Matteo had returned to the place where someone had already tried to kill him once.
But Gideon had one more thing to say.
“He isn't alone.”
“Who?”
May you like
“Marjo Bowmont.”
Delphine stopped breathing.
