No right

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After declining Miss Fernando's offer to come to her center, I walked up the stairs to our hotel suit. I didn't tell Cole, because honestly, I shouldn't see him or hear him for the next few hours.

I wipe away the tears that fell down my cheek before opening the door and changing into my pair of sweatpants and shirt. I can't believe he did that! Who is he to decide that for me? I thought he wanted to separate private life and business. What kind of game is he playing?

I stand up, pace the room, when I hear the door open. I glare at him when he takes off his jacket. He rolls up his sleeves and sighs, before looking at me.

"I didn't know you were already up." He tells me, his tone monotone. I scoff and let out a forced chuckle.
"Did you expect me to already be at this self-help center?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"No, I didn't." He says, taking off his watch and walking past me to put it in the bathroom. I blink a few time.
"NO? That's all you have to say?" I ask, perplexed. He shrugs and sits down on the bed, taking off his shoes.

"What did you expect?" He asks, making me frown.
"What I expected? I expected you to separate business and personal life. You bring me here, making me think you need me, just so I see a self-help center?! And on top of that you don't even talk to me about it. You just assume and go to a stranger." I say, making him frown and stand up.

"Assume?" He asks, calmly.
"Yes, assume. You don't know anything about this or how I got them? You had no right to call her!" I yell at him and his eyes harden, before he grips my elbow and drags me into the bathroom.

"Wipe your face." He demands, tossing me the cosmetic wipes. I shake my head and look away from him.
"Wipe." He glares at me.

"Either you or me." He presses the wipes against my stomach. I take them with gritted teeth and look at the mirror while wiping my face clean, releasing my bruises and yellow eyes. He stands right next to me, looking at me through the mirror. He sucks on his teeth and clinches his jaw.

"If you want to tell me you got these bruises from falling down the stairs or biting your lip or shit like that, go ahead. But in the end we both know how it happened." He tells me, placing his hands in his pockets. I shake my head and look at him, turning away from the mirror.

"You don't know anything about me. You had no right to do that. This goes beyond unprofessional." I tell him and he nods.
"I might don't have anything to do with your personal life. But as a person, who saw how James lost his temper right in front of me and was about to hurt you, I did my duty. I did what everybody else would've done." He glares at me.

"You know what I hate about people like you? You think you're always right. You think you can just stomp over people like me and get away with it. Just because you have money?" I ask, stepping away from him. He grips my elbow again.

"Let me go." I say, but he turns me around, makes me look at my beat up self, while pressing his front against my back, so I don't leave again.

"See that? If you saw somebody else than yourself with bruises like that, what would you do?" He asks, forcing me to look at my refection.
"Talk to them." I whisper.

"And when you know they won't listen? Because if they would listen, they wouldn't try to hide their bruises." He says, eyes softening, when he sees a tear escaping my eye. I stop fighting and close my eyes. I hate myself for letting James do this to me all those months.

He doesn't say anything, and for a moment I could only hear his fast breathing. I shake my head and push him with enough force to have him stumble backwards. He frowns at me in surprise.

"When are we flying back?" I ask, wiping my tears away.
"Tomorrow at noon." He answers, stepping closer again, but putting enough distance between us, so I don't feel pressured. I nod and get back in the bed.

That's the last thing we talk that evening. He makes himself comfortable on the couch, while I do the same in the bed.

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