"The Man I Kept in Chains Came Back for Me." Chapter 7

13.

When I got home, there was a new message on my phone.

Delivery orders for Mercer Industries can now be left at reception.

Unbelievable.

I rubbed my eyes irritably and blocked the number.

The next day, the delivery platform sent out a message asking us to collect new padded winter uniforms.

I went over and stood in line.

I hadn't felt cold until I heard the others talking.

"How's this one so thick?"

"They say it's goose down. Waterproof outer shell too."

"Goose down? Those jackets cost a fortune in stores."

"What rich saint found a conscience?"

"How come nobody told us?"

"Maybe some big boss sponsored them."

"God, it's warm."

For a second, I thought of Adrian.

Then I shoved the thought away.

Please.

After the way I'd shouted at him last night, it would already have been generous of him not to take revenge.

It couldn't be him.

The more I thought about the coat, the more I wanted it.

After we went broke, I'd sold everything I could to get by.

The money had gone toward debts, rent, and the scooter I'd bought when I decided to start delivering food.

Almost nothing remained.

I earned some money now, but I still couldn't bear to spend it.

There were only two changes of clothes left at home.

Back and forth, back and forth. The same two sets.

The padding in my old coat had flattened so much I could practically see light through it.

At last, it was my turn.

I opened the package carefully.

It was clean. No strange smell.

Warmer than my blanket when I put it on.

I sighed happily and couldn't help smiling.

Even doing deliveries felt better.

Today's rain wasn't landing on me the way it had yesterday.

I worked all morning. Around noon, I found a street-food cart and had a bowl of hot chicken soup.

I was warm all the way through.

Leaning back in my chair, I let my mind go blank.

Then a deep, familiar voice spoke beside me.

"Julian?"

I looked up, startled.

14.

"It really is you. I was just passing. I thought you looked familiar."

The man was in his early forties.

He wore an immaculate suit, his hair styled so neatly that not a strand was out of place.

Only the faint lines around his eyes gave away his age.

He pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down, his expression gentle.

"It's been a long time. Do you remember me?"

That brought it back.

Right.

Was he technically one of my mother's kept men?

Not quite. He hadn't wanted her money. He'd wanted her.

Back when he was courting her, he'd come by every day, the perfect gentleman, ready to spend a fortune.

But once my mother brought Adrian's father home as her favorite, he'd gone abroad.

I hadn't heard anything about him in years.

Simon Bennett looked me over, then reached out and touched my cheek.

"I'm sorry. News took a long time to reach me. I didn't hear about your mother until last year."

There was pain in his expression.

"Have you been all right on your own?"

It took going out into the world to learn how rare genuine kindness was.

I'd tried finding the people who used to swear they were my friends.

Every last one of them had mocked me.

Now one short question was enough to make my chest ache.

I smiled.

"I'm good. I keep busy."

Simon turned his head away suddenly and lowered his eyes, almost as if he couldn't bear to look.

He apologized again.

Then he asked if he could visit my mother.

We arranged a time.

He dressed very formally that day.

I didn't know what he said to her.

I waited outside the cemetery. When he came back, his eyes were red.

He handed me a business card.

His voice was rough.

"I remember you used to like making models. A friend of mine recently opened an independent model-making studio. They're looking for people. Would you like to give it a try?"

My eyes lit up.

Then dimmed again.

I'd liked models a long time ago. My hands were so rough now, I doubted I could manage that delicate work anymore.

He pressed the card into my hand anyway.

"Just have a look. You're about the same age. Even if nothing comes of it, you might make a friend."

Simon went abroad again soon after.

He told me to contact him if I ever needed anything.

I kept the card.

But I never called the number.

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