Prevail - [Charles Leclerc]

Trente-Trois

           Charles took a deep breath once he closed the bedroom door behind himself. He needed a second alone, to think, to breathe. Sara said Dennis couldn't know, because he'd tell Matteo Abril. Everything in him wanted to kick him out of his house right now, but that would not be a great idea, considering Matteo had his weapons and guards ready to kill him whenever, apparently. He took calm, quiet steps down the stairs. "No bedtime yet, Mr. Leclerc?" Dennis' voice sounded. Charles shook his head. "I was about to, but realized I had something that couldn't wait until tomorrow," Charles explained. "Shall I order Gisele to bring you some coffee?" He suggested. "No, thank you," Charles said, nodding towards his guard. He hasn't heard anything of the conversation between him and Sara. That couldn't be either, because Dennis was stationed downstairs. Charles closed the doors of his office behind him, making sure they were locked this time. He sat down behind his desk, reaching for the glass and opening the bottle of bourbon. He poured some into the glass, sitting back in his chair after taking a big gulp.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out slowly. He needed to hear the whole story from her, but he was incredibly mad right now. Charles didn't want to take it out on Sara either, but he struggled with the fact that she knew it for over a month already, while he got more and more frustrated with the dead end of looking for evidence for the murderer of his father. And she knew how much it meant to him. Charles took another sip of his bourbon, placing the glass back on his desk as he leaned his elbows on his knees. There is one thing that he knew for sure. Matteo Abril killed his father, and Dennis was here to make sure Sara wouldn't tell him. It hurt him, too, that Dennis was involved in it. He trusted his guards a hundred percent by letting them into his house. He trusted them to protect his mansion, his office and his wife, and all of it was put in jeopardy now. Charles wasn't sure what went down at the party last month, between Sara and her father, but that must have been the reason why Sara left so upset, and why she had deleted the messages from his phone.

Charles moved his hands through his hair again, finishing the glass of bourbon and putting it back next to the bottle. He waited a couple more minutes before standing up and getting away from his desk. He opened the doors of his office, nodding at Dennis as he walked out and let the doors fall closed behind him, locking them with the key like he always did. "Goodnight, Mr. Leclerc," Dennis politely said. "Goodnight, Dennis," Charles replied, and he quietly made his way upstairs. He didn't expect Sara had fallen asleep, but he still opened the door as silently as he could. The small lamp on her nightstand was still on, and he could see her small figure curled up on the bed. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, but she didn't get up or attempted to talk to him. Charles unlocked his watch from around his wrist and put the chain necklace down on his nightstand. He quietly stripped from his clothing, leaving himself in just a pair of boxers. Charles sat down on the edge of his side of the bed, checking his gun in the drawer of the nightstand, making sure it was loaded.

He sighed softly as he moved to lay down in the bed, turning to Sara, met with her crying figure that made his heart clench in his chest. Charles' fingers reach out to touch her face, wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her eyes slowly opened, they were bloodshot, eyelids swollen from all her sobs. "Come here," Charles muttered, wrapping her up in his embrace, and it made her bury her face in his chest, her arms tightly moving around his waist, her palms pressing into his back. His fingers combed through her hair, and he waited till she spoke up on her own. "My dad waited for me in his office when we arrived at the party. It's why my mom kept you away from me," she started. "Dennis was in his office when I arrived, I didn't understand what he was doing there, but I knew that he had worked for my dad before," Sara continued. She swallowed hard and wiped her nose. "Then my father told me that I needed to steer you another way, because you were busy sticking your nose in his business, which he wasn't so fond of," Sara added. "I didn't understand, but then he said that he killed your father."