Chapter 278

Hannah

“Noah, look at this.”

I climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the ticket out of my pocket. Noah’s eyes widened as he took it, studying the details.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

“I swiped it off of Doctor Patel’s desk,” I said, admittedly a little proud of myself.

Noah dropped the hand holding the ticket to his leg. “Hannah, you didn’t… Tell me you didn’t steal from our doctor?”

“What?” I asked, splaying my hands wide. “I couldn’t help myself. I mean, why did your father buy a plane ticket to the tropics for the family doctor? Who, might I add, was in said tropics for, like, three months straight last year.”

Noah was silent for several long moments. His green eyes flicked to the ticket, then to me, then to the ticket once more. I couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or impressed that I had noticed that little detail. He couldn’t seem to decide, either.

Finally, he said, “It looks like it was purchased around Christmas time. I guess my father was in the holiday spirit last year.”

I frowned and folded my arms across my chest. “Your father isn’t the gift-giving type.”

Noah scoffed. “No. I guess you’re right.” Another pause as he studied the ticket, turning it over in his hands. “Doctor Patel has been our family doctor for decades, though. Maybe my dad—”

“Has your dad ever gotten a gift for you?” I blurted out. “Or your mother?”

At the mention of his late mother, Noah’s face went pale. He quickly looked away, and I instantly felt my heart sink. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head. “You’re right. My dad only ever gave my mother one gift that I can recall, and it was only because that was when he’d gotten caught cheating with Scott’s mother.”

We both stared at the ticket again after that. It really was strange; Marcus was not the type of man who gave gifts, let alone to employees—which was essentially what Doctor Patel was to him.

“Then why give him a plane ticket to the tropics?” I mused. “Why fund a months-long vacation?”

Noah’s eyes were fixed on the ticket in his hands, but I could sense his mind whirling through our bond. Strange, indeed…

…

By the time the last box was unloaded and placed in the foyer, I felt like my arms might give out from the strain.

“Ugh,” Viona whined, lounging back on the stairs. “When you told me you wanted me to be your Beta, you never mentioned that the job might include being your moving lady as well.”

I smirked as I stared down at my friend. Despite the offers to hire a moving company, I’d insisted on doing it myself—partially out of the fear that something might happen to my valuables during transit but mainly just because I wanted to.

Having Drake, Noah, and Viona to help certainly made the work a lot easier.

“Hey,” I said, holding up the pizza parlor menu that I’d been hiding in my back pocket all day, “would pizza help smooth the wound over?”

Viona and Drake perked up at the mention of pizza. Even Noah’s eyes lit up. I could practically hear all three of their stomachs growl all at once.

“Pizza it is, then,” I said with a laugh, pulling out my phone.

After ordering the pizzas—with Viona insisting on a mushroom topping for one and a side of garlic knots—we all moved to the living room to relax. Noah put on some music, and I laid back on the couch with a satisfied smile.

Home. I was finally home.

Being back in this house after being away for so long would take a lot of getting used to, that was for sure. But it felt… right. I wanted to give this home another chance, an opportunity to fill the walls with happy memories that would hopefully dull some of the bad ones.

And if Noah’s loving gaze from across the room was any indication, then he was having the same thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. Noah jumped up from his chair and strode over to answer it, checking his watch. The pizza wasn’t supposed to be here yet.

When he returned, he had a bottle of wine—complete with a red bow around it—in his hand and a curious expression on his face. I sat up, eyeing the bottle cautiously. “What’s that?”

“I guess my father stopped by the front gate and left this with the security officer,” Noah said, handing me the bottle—an expensive red. “A gift.”

Eyebrows raised, I flipped open the little card that was attached to the bow and read its contents.

“Dear Noah and Hannah; Congratulations on, well… everything! Consider this a little peace offering as well. I know my behavior was not appropriate last weekend and I hope that this will make up for that, at least a little.”

“‘P.S.,’” I read aloud. “‘I’d recommend pairing this with some of that delicious elk steak you served last week.’”

There was a moment of silence as we all processed whatever the hell that was. Drake, who was leaning back in an armchair with Viona perched on one of his legs, was the first to speak.

“Well, that certainly sounds nice. I can’t say I’m drinking that, though.”

Noah and I exchanged curious glances. It was a fresh bottle of expensive wine, corked and factory sealed. Marcus may have been a royal jackass, but he wasn’t the type to do something as crazy as sending tampered wine to people.

And although surprising, the note was… nice. An apology. A little peace offering. My mind wandered back to that plane ticket, and I wondered if Marcus was changing in the smallest of ways.

Noah seemed to have the same thought I did, because he grabbed the wine and reached for the corkscrew behind the bar. “I guess we all get sentimental in our old age, don’t we?” he mused as he uncorked the bottle. “Maybe my father is finally starting to see the benefit of treating people with a touch of kindness.”

Viona snorted. “Or plying them with gifts and alcohol to make them compliant.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “That seems likely. But wine is wine, right?”

Noah poured two glasses of the wine—Viona and Drake opted to raid our own liquor cabinet instead, settling on sloppily-made margaritas—and handed one to me. It was good wine, and with Melody staying with my parents until I settled in here, I could let loose a little.

And let loose I did.

Before I knew it, I’d gotten far drunker than I intended—so much so that not even four slices of pizza and several garlic knots could sober me up. We were all thoroughly drunk by ten o’clock, laughing until we could hardly breathe over increasingly-ridiculous games of Charades.

At one point, Drake swept Viona up and danced with her around the room, causing her face to turn as red as a strawberry. Noah and I leapt up as well, clasping our hands and twirling together until the room turned into a blur.

We weren’t spinning for long, though, before I tripped over Noah’s feet, and we both went sprawling across the carpet in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

I didn’t realize that something was wrong until Viona’s face came into view above me, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Hannah? Hannah, are you okay?” Her voice sounded muffled, far away, like I was underwater.

The room spun as I turned my head. Beside me, Noah was being lifted into a sitting position by Drake. He was conscious, but his head was lolling, and he was muttering something incoherent.

“I… I think…”

Everything went dark before I could say what was on my mind.

Something was in that wine after all.