Kingdom Come (Book 1)

Chapter Fourteen:

February 14, 2025

Valentine's Day arrived with promises of romance and escape. Clayton had planned a weekend getaway to New York City—a mini-holiday Alice had been dreaming of.

As she stood before her mirror, she marveled at how far she'd come. Her reflection told a story of resilience—healthy skin, a renewed glow, and only the faintest remnants of the wounds she'd fought so hard to heal from. Loose clothing, thoughtfully selected by June, disguised her scars, yet her packed bag included a few dresses she hoped would make her feel beautiful.

Returning to school had been a bittersweet victory, with classmates embracing her with cautious affection. Celia, ever the guardian angel, had rarely left her side, ensuring Alice's comfort at every turn. Though grateful, Alice longed for normalcy—for people to stop fussing over her.

At midday, Clayton pulled up in front of her house, his leather jacket and faded jeans giving him an air of casual confidence. His peppermint scent hit her before his words did. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe," he said, leaning in for a kiss. His touch left her breathless.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Alice replied, her voice catching as her cheeks flushed. Clayton looked different—polished, and yet effortlessly magnetic. She couldn't help staring, her heart racing.

June lingered in the doorway as Clayton addressed her warmly, "Thank you, Mrs. Williams. I'll have her back Sunday evening."

Blushing at the exchange, June waved goodbye and disappeared inside, leaving them to their moment.

"Miss Allie, ready to hit the road? Got your meds, clothes—everything?" Clayton asked, his concern peeking through his usual easy demeanor.

Alice stepped closer, her lips grazing his cheek. "Please don't worry about me," she whispered. "The doctor says I'm fine. I can't wait to spend this weekend with you."

Clayton's shoulders softened as his hands settled gently on her lower back. Their shared warmth anchored her. "Honey," Alice teased, breaking the tension, "we've got a long drive ahead."

Hand in hand, they strolled to his truck, her heart lifting as he opened the door for her. The drive to New York on I-90 W unfolded in peaceful silence, a stretch of open road ahead and endless possibilities.

*******

After three long hours on the road, they finally arrived. The city roared to life around them, its neon glare swallowing the sky. Alice blinked against the assault of advertising lights, their harsh brilliance momentarily blinding her.

The hotel loomed ahead, all polished grandeur. Inside, the lobby seemed to stretch endlessly, marble floors gleaming under the crystal glow of chandeliers. Alice's breath caught as her eyes wandered upward. The chandeliers sparkled like captured starlight, throwing kaleidoscopic patterns across the vast expanse. She felt small, almost lost, amidst such opulence.

Her focus shifted to the hostess, a statuesque blonde who radiated practiced poise. The woman's smile was dazzling but artificial, her eyes lingering on Clayton with a kind of predatory interest. Alice glanced at him. He was leaning casually against the counter, his credit card tapping against the marble with impatient rhythm.

"Mr. Miller," the hostess purred, her voice smooth as silk, her gaze hungry.

Alice prepared herself for his usual charm, but to her surprise, he didn't even look at the woman. Instead, he slid a hand to Alice's waist and kissed her—a gesture that felt more intentional than spontaneous. Heat rose to her cheeks.

The hostess's expression faltered, her smile dimming as she cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. Mr. Miller, Miss Clarke. The king suite. Late check-out until Sunday. Will you require assistance with your luggage?"