CHAPTER 41: STAYING CLOSE IS NOT AN OPTION ANYMORE

"Who do you think he is?" Miles whispered to Marla, leaning close to her ear as they stood guard-like in front of the perfume store.

They’d been there for a while now, watching from a distance like a pair of awkward bodyguards. After searching the entire area, they’d finally found him—thanks to the tracker Miles had managed to slip into Theo’s shoes the night before. A genius move, even if Marla had rolled her eyes about it then.

Now, she was glad he did.

Theo Kingsley stood inside the store, silent, motionless, completely ignoring the enthusiastic sales assistant trying to pitch him a limited edition scent. Just standing there like a statue, hands in his pockets, eyes glazed over.

"Give me every one of yours that smells like vanilla..." he said at last, his voice low and flat.

The sales assistant blinked, a bit thrown. "You mean... for men, sir?"

"Women," he replied curtly.

She hurried to line up several bottles in front of him, spraying testers onto strips of paper. But none of the scents matched what he was looking for. Not even close.

With a quiet scoff, he let the last perfume strip fall from his fingers. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the store.

"Sir..." Miles rushed after him, keeping close. "What are you looking for? We might be able to help—"

Theo came to a sudden stop, forcing both Miles and Marla to nearly crash into his back. He turned slowly, eyes sharp and cold as steel.

"Then help me find the perfume Daisy wears," he said flatly.

Marla blinked, caught off guard. "I know, sir."

"Really?" Theo’s eyes shifted at that moment, and both Miles and Marla noticed it. The cold edge dulled, softened by something almost vulnerable. "Which one?" he asked quietly. "Show me."

Marla nodded and turned back toward the store, motioning for them to follow. "It’s not a common one," she said as they walked. "I remember because I looked it up once. It’s rare... and pretty expensive. Way out of my league, to be honest."

Theo followed silently, his expression unreadable. Inside, the sales assistant gave them a wary glance but said nothing.

Marla led them to a small display tucked in the back corner. She reached for a sleek, frosted bottle with a cream label trimmed in gold. "This is the one. It’s vanilla-based, but not too sweet... more like warm, smoky vanilla. Honestly? Smells like elegance with a bite... so... very Miss Sinclair-like."

Theo took the bottle without a word, his fingers brushing the glass with a strange gentleness. He didn’t test it. He just stared at it, his jaw tense, like he was holding something back.

"She said..." Theo started, then stopped. His voice was low, as if he were speaking more to himself than to them. "She’ll never like me... or she might as well have said she hated me."

His eyes never left the bottle. "So staying close to her... might not be an option anymore."

Marla said nothing. Even Miles stayed unusually silent.

The words fell heavy in the space between them.

"I need to make sure he doesn’t come out again... or at least not until Liam takes over the company."

He spoke quietly, but both Marla and Miles heard him clearly, perhaps the only two people who truly understood what he meant.

He turned to the sales assistant, who had been silently watching. "How many of these do you have in stock?"

"Twenty-seven bottles, sir," came the careful reply.

"Wrap them all."

It was said with eerie calm. But Miles could see it now, this wasn’t just about cologne or romance. It was a desperate man trying to anchor himself to the only thing that ever brought him back.

The car was silent, the hum of the engine the only sound as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Theo sat in the back seat, one hand resting on the box of perfume bottles beside him, the other pressed to his temple like he was holding something in or maybe trying to keep something from breaking loose.

"Straight to the airport," he said quietly.

Theo’s answer was short, but final.

Marla hesitated. "And Miss Sinclair?"

"Bring her back," he said, his gaze still out the window. "She followed me here. She shouldn’t have to figure her way home alone."

Miles exchanged a glance with Marla, but neither said anything.

A beat of silence passed before he added, more quietly, "Just... make sure she comes back safely."

Marla looked down at her phone, already pulling up flight schedules. "We’ll handle it."

=====

Daisy stared at the ceiling of the unfamiliar hotel room, her body still but her thoughts restless.

Sleep had never really come.

She turned over, her pillow cool against her cheek, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up—11:03 AM.

She blinked. That late?

A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. Her head throbbed faintly, a dull reminder of how little she’d rested.

He hadn’t come back last night. Not a message. Not a word.

Marla and Miles? Also quiet since her call that morning, just a vague message, "We’ll get back to you," an hour after the call.

She glanced at her phone again, hoping for a text. Nothing.

But then the bell to the room rang.

Her heart jumped. She froze, staring at the door. Then, without thinking, she scrambled out of bed, half-tripping over the sheets as she rushed forward barefoot.

She didn’t check the peephole. Didn’t even hesitate.

She unlocked it in one smooth motion and pulled the door open.

"Oh..." Daisy blinked. "Camellia?"

Camellia was standing in front of her looking slightly pale, her usual glow dimmed beneath tired eyes and a rushed face of minimal makeup. Her coat was buttoned unevenly, like she’d thrown it on without thinking.

"I’m sorry to disturb you, Daisy, but... is Theo here?"

"Theo?" Daisy paused, fingers tightening slightly around the doorknob. "He’s out for some business. What is it?"

"Ah, really?" Camellia let out a weak sigh, like she’d been holding her breath for hours. "He’s okay, right? I’ve been trying to call him, but I couldn’t reach."