Chapter 74: The Call
Nicholas was whistling.
Actually whistling—an old Sinatra tune, barely audible as he shrugged into his crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled casually at the elbows. His cufflinks sat forgotten on the nightstand; he didn’t need them today. Not when he was still tasting Ella on his lips, still feeling the softness of her thighs tangled around his hips when he closed his eyes.
Christ, she was something else.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—hair tousled, lips slightly red, and, for the first time in months, a glimmer of something light behind his usually sharp, cold gaze.
His phone buzzed on the dresser, but he ignored it at first, too focused on tucking his shirt, smoothing the material over his abs, running a hand over his jaw where her nails had left faint pink lines.
Ella’s soft laugh still echoed in his ears, that sleepy sound she made when he kissed her shoulder before getting out of bed. "You’re annoying, you know that?" she’d teased him when he kissed her five times in a row just to hear her giggle.
And God, the way she looked in his shirt...
Another buzz, more insistent this time.
Nick picked it up, smiling faintly, expecting one of his staff, maybe Tony calling about security details, or his assistant asking about his schedule.
Instead, FATHER flashed on the screen in sharp white letters.
Smile gone.