And then the tears came in buckets. For my little boy who was snatched from me, for my big boy whom I had abandoned when he still needed me, for my sweet girl confined to a room in a brothel, for my life that could have been a lot better. But it also could have been worse. Whatever it could have been, it was mine and it was useless to live in regrets. I gave him back the phone and snuggled closer to him. “Thank you, my love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He put his phone down and wiped my tears with his thumbs. “I know I do horrible things. I say horrible things. But I do adore you. And I want to make you happy.” A beat. “Should we get some sleep, baby doll?”

It was a little after seven. “I’m too wired. You sleep.”

“I have a business meeting at eleven,” he said. “I’ve set the alarm for ten-thirty.” He stroked my arm. “Stay with me until then, angel.”

How could I possibly refuse him? We went under the sheets, and he brought me close to his body. His hands were around my waist and he was nuzzling my neck. I was exhausted but awake, trying to hold back the nausea you feel when you’ve had inadequate rest. I felt his breathing slow. I said, “Thank you again.”

“My pleasure.” His voice was sleepy.

My eyes were still wide open. “You know what would cheer me up?”

He looped his leg around mine and pulled me closer. “What?”

“A big bouquet of flowers.”

A pause. “Roses?”

“Yes, please, but also lilies and peonies and orchids. Just a huge bouquet that I could put on the dresser. Something beautiful and colorful that would brighten up the room.”

“No problem.” He kissed the back of my neck, then didn’t talk. I thought he had fallen asleep. But then he said, “Do you want the necklace also?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, that would be divine.”

CHAPTER 24

I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING until the alarm went off at three-thirty in the afternoon, my reminder that it was time to visit Juleen. But I knew I’d been having bad dreams because my heart was racing and I was in a cold sweat. I was disoriented, panicked that I was not with my children in my Los Angeles apartment, until slowly, slowly things came into view. The bedroom was empty, the curtain was still drawn, and after last night, I felt exhausted, mentally and physically. I dragged my body out of bed and put on one of my loose Manson girl dresses. When I walked into the living area of the suite, Chris was sitting on the couch, typing on a laptop. He took off his glasses, glanced at his Rolex, and looked at me. He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a while.”