Chapter 14

As always, when Bellatrix returned home, she was met with cold silence and empty surroundings. However, this time around she was too tired to care. After the embarrassing events that had occurred, the only thing on her mind was a goodnight's sleep. With that thought in mind, she dragged herself upstairs and towards her bedroom, without even bothering to change into her night wear or take a shower, she collapsed on the bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, a deep sigh escaped her and she curled into a ball. Tonight had been a total mess and she could only hope that, come morning, everything would return back to how it had been the past week and hopefully, would stay like that. With that and the humiliating events of the party replaying in her mind, Bellatrix slowly gave into the fatigue that weighed her eyelids down and drifted off to sleep. ~•~•~•~ Cillian's mind had been a blur since leaving the event. Beside him, Regina's lips were moving and she squirmed around, seemingly in pain, but none of that truly registered in his mind. The only thing he was thinking about was Bellatrix. Like a hawk, his mind kept settling back to when she had crashed into the pyramid of champagne glasses and fell on her butt. At first, he hadn't cared, simply because he believed that she had deserved it. She was the one who had caused the commotion, so naturally, she would be the one who paid for it. But, as seconds ticked by, and he kept recalling the broken glass shards around her and the scrape on her shoulder, an unfamiliar feeling rose within him and he frowned. Beside him, Regina eventually took notice of the fact that he wasn't paying much attention to her. Unlike the usual times when she'd be in pain and he'd shower her with attention, he had barely looked her way. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. Just thinking about it, or rather, the possibility that Cillian might be thinking about Bellatrix, made Regina feel agitated. Without thinking, she leaned against Cillian, clutching her side in pain and groaning. "Cillian... it really hurts." This quickly got Cillian's attention, pulling him out of his thoughts. When he took in the sight of her grimacing in pain, he immediately cradled her closer. "Does it hurt much?" He asked, voice soft and gentle. "Don't worry, we'll soon be home. I already had Kane call the doctor.” Right on cue, the car pulled into the driveway of the house Cillian had bought for Regina when she returned to Miami. He was quick to help her out of the car, gently supporting her with his arm as he walked her into the house. Once inside, they were met with the doctor and a maid. The doctor, a woman in her late forties, was quick to rush towards Regina, who was leaning against Cillian's chest. "Oh dear, did you overwork yourself?" She questioned as she took Regina and gently began leading her towards the room for an examination. Unlike the usual times, Cillian did not follow them. Even though Regina was priority right now, his mind felt like a clustered mess. He needed to find a way to uncluster it. Turning, he approached Kane and stretched his hand out, requesting for the key to his car. "You stay here with Regina," He instructed. "Keep me updated on her condition." Kane handed him the keys without question and after receiving it, Cillian walked out of the house and drove to the first place his mind could think of. ~•~•~~• Music boomed in high volume from all corners of the club, bodies mingling with one another. In the VIP section of the club, Cillian sat, sipping gentle on a glass of bourbon he knew Clara would mouth off his head if she knew he was having. But his mind was clouded and cluttered and this seemed like the only way to fix that. But despite that notion, the scene at the hotel was still playing in his mind. From the moment Damien Walker had stepped out of the car with Bellatrix beside him, a strange feeling had risen within him. One that he did not understand. Even now, as his gaze scanned the crowd of dancers before him, that same feeling remained. ....it was something between the lines of anger and a sense of fear a child would feel when his favorite toy was being taken away. The very same sensation he had felt when he lost his parents. But why...would be feel this way towards that Vicious woman? "You know, if you're going to make it a habit of interrupting my sweet evening, all so that I can accompany you, I'll start charging you." Cillian's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of a familiar voice. Raising his head, he watched as Rourke walked in and dropped into a couch across from him. "You're here," he stated, watching as male wasted no time in pouring himself a glass of bourbon. "Of course I am. Do you think I have the bone to reject an invite from the great, Mr. Laurent." Rourke chuckled and took a sip of the liquor, humming in delight. "So," he continued. "What's with your sudden crash outs? First boxing and now alcohol? Is your wife no longer keeping you in check?" Cillian's jaw tightened the moment the words left his lips. "And what gave you the idea that she was keeping me in check?" He sneered. "A woman like that can barely keep her own sex life in check, let alone me." Rourke's eyes narrowed, but he kept the smile on his face as he said. "There's fire on the mountain, I see.” He said, then, there was a brief pause before he continued. “But then again, there's always been fire on the mountain, you've just managed it well. But now, isn't it getting a little too much?" Arching his brows, Cillian asked, "Getting a little too much?" Rourke leaned forward, placing the glass on the table, and propping his chin on his folded hands. "Yeah. I saw the news, everyone did. Regina's back, so, there's no need to remain in the marriage if you don't like it. Or, you can just bring yourself to accept it. I mean," Placing his hand on his chin, he pretended to think. "Your wife's not that bad looking, she's very pretty and young. I'm sure if you divorce her now, she'll quickly find another man who would–” Before Rourke could finish his sentence, Cillian slammed his glass down on the table, rattling the other ones in the process, and stood up. "It seems I made a mistake calling you here." Taking out a wad of cash from his pocket, he threw it on the table. "That should cover the bill, I'm leaving." Without waiting for so much as an answer, he turned and left. Getting into his car, Cillian began driving with no particular destination in mind. Before he knew it, he'd arrived at the Laurent Residence and was now standing in front of Bellatrix's room. His brows were furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his lips pulled into a frown. For some reason, when Rourke had brought up the topic of divorce and finding Bellatrix finding another man, he had imagined her being with Damien and this in turn, made a strange feeling rise within him. One he didn't like, not one bit. Perhaps, it was because of that thought he had unconsciously come here and it was because of those same thoughts that he now opened her room door without hesitation. Immediately, his eyes landed on her sleeping form. She was curled into a ball, her hands tucked under her pillow, her face partially hidden beneath the cover. Cillian's eyes scanned her body and abruptly stopped when he noticed the dress she was wearing. It wasn't the gown she had worn and it definitely wasn't her dress...that only meant it belonged to…Damien. In an instant, anger rushed through him and without thinking, he matched over to her bed. How dare she! As if it wasn't enough that she humiliated him by taking Damien's side at the gala, she also had the audacity to return in his clothes! She needed to be taught a lesson!