Chapter 46 - Old wounds

Alexandre looked impatiently at his pocket watch. 45 minutes ago she had promised to hurry. The hurry in his wife's dictionary had a different definition. But this was nothing new to him. He had noticed that the girl did not like to appear in public and acted rather restrained.

At home, she might be wild and impetuous. But she was always reserved in the company of strangers. Just like Adrien, thought Alexandre. Although the two were not blood relatives, they behaved like a real pair of mother and son.

Alexandre snorted. He did not want to give her more time. He didn't want to wait.

He excused himself, although some of the guest wanted to prevent him from leaving. Alexandre broke away without another word, like an overbearing tycoon he portrayed and made his way calmly through the crowd. Every now and then he was stopped, but Alexandre could not be tied for long. With each passing minute, his impatience grew. Where was Lily?

Alexandre let a bored look wander across the crowd. Although he was married, he sensed the expectant gazes of girls. Serene, he strolled on, pretending not to notice the sensation he was causing.

He remembered with horror the times when he too had cut these balls. At that time, he was only twenty and completely overwhelmed by all the marriageable debutantes who were pushed to his feet and their determined mothers who put pressure on him. Because of his title and his huge fortune he had always been a good catch. Even a wedding ring on his finger did not discourage some ladies.

At that time, the bold attempts to gain his attention had often flustered him. Sometimes even disgusted him. But now it seemed to amuse him. Some even stared at him with wide eyes as if he were an alien from a distant galaxy.

He had to think of that girl's big eyes, sometimes looking innocent and dreamy at him and then glaring furiously. Her eyes were like the mirror of her soul. She was much more than pretty. She was smart, but also naive. Funny and honest. A coward who could be brave if the situation required it.

His little kitten that had disappeared.

Lily did not seem to have found her way back to the hall. Strange - it ran through his mind.

Finally, he reached the private rest room of his family, but there he had to learn that his wife had left 15 minutes ago. His mood dropped to the bottomless. Where had she gone?

"Why didn't anyone accompany her?" He yelled at the staff. Why did she leave alone?

"The lady asked for it. She did not want to cause any trouble ... " The maid stammered. Alexandre looked at her venomously. "She didn't want to cause trouble?!" His tone was sharp. "What are you even paid for? Stupid standing around? Stare holes in the air? Even if she does not want to make any trouble, you should be eager to spoil her until she is rotten!" He slammed the door. He hated it, if not everything was to his satisfaction. At least he tried to convince himself of this reason.

He hurried through the corridors angrily, but paused after hearing a soft sob. Alexandre hesitated, was lost in thoughts. Lost in thought he followed the sounds. He closed his eyes as he remembered cruel pictures. Memories that had struck him at night for years. A body. Beaten blue and green. Unrecognizable. Naked.

He followed the quiet wimmer. But when he heard the pleading voice, nothing stopped him. He quickly turned the corner.

At the sight of Lily. The despair and fear in her eyes. The deafening whimper. The sight was enough to blow all his fuses. He stormed off and struck him with the first blow. As hard as he could. The man fell to the side, falling on stone tiling, almost tearing Lily to the ground. But Alexandre reached out for her, grabbed her waist quick-witted and pulled her to himself.

A sharp stitch pierced his heart as he saw his wife's tear-stained face. Fear had settled like a dark shadow over Lily's clear eyes.

An unruly anger rose in him.

A growl.

That became a roar.

He struck again. He didn't even give this man the chance to get up again. So hard!

The skin on his fists ripped open. The man's face was smudged with red. He threw himself over him, grabbed him by the collar. Beat up. Right. Then left. Dodge his fists. Then he hit again. The man's head crashed heavily on the floor. He raised his fist again. A tightness in his chest. He lost himself, caught in a trance. Old pictures flickered in front of his eyes. A naked body. Scattered under dirt and mud. Mutilated and unrecognizable.

Whimper.

Silent and at the same time bloodcurdling.

It woke him up.

He looked at her. The girl was crouching on the floor. She was so strangely far away.