His Father Bought Me-Chapter 44: Make It Lavish

"No, Justin," Estelle shot back, her tone urgent. "Except what?

Justin didn’t speak for another second. Then he exhaled over the phone. "Why are you so set on this, Estelle? You’re not just questioning a fall, you’re implying something serious. If this gets out, it could blow back hard. The arena, your family, everyone."

Estelle swallowed, her throat dry. "That’s exactly why I’m coming to you first," she said, her voice tightening with urgency. "I don’t want this getting out unless I’m sure. But I need to know, Justin. I need the truth."

On the other end, she could hear him shift, the faint rustle of movement, like he was pacing or running a hand through his hair.

"I really didn’t see anything worth saying. Just tell me what do you want me to do?" he asked finally, the reluctance still there, but softer now.

Estelle closed her eyes for a second, steadying herself before speaking. "I need you to get into my father’s office," she said. "There should be surveillance footage of the backstage, hallways, maybe even the rink. I want everything from that night, and a couple of days before it." She inhaled slowly. "I need to see if Magnus Whitehall was there. Or if there were any meetings."

Justin went quiet again. And when he finally spoke, his voice was lower and tense. "That’s not just risky, Estelle. That’s dangerous. If I get caught digging around your father’s office..." He trailed off, exhaling sharply. "Your family’s already done a lot for me. I can’t afford to lose that over something like this."

Estelle’s fingers curled tighter, her knuckles paling. "I know," she said softly. "I know what I’m asking." Her voice wavered just slightly before she steadied it again. "But I don’t have anyone else, Justin. No friends. No family I can trust."

Her gaze dropped to her legs, unmoving beneath the fabric of her dress. "And I’m stuck like this." A quiet breath left her lips. "I just... I need your help."

Justin’s exhale cut through the line. "Alright, I’ll try to help you," he said at last, his voice low, cautious. "As soon as I have everything, I’ll email it to you. But after this, you can’t call me anymore."

Estelle shook her head immediately, a reflex he couldn’t see. "No, Justin. Don’t email me." Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone. "For all I know, my mother already has access to it." She glanced toward the door, her voice dropping. "Once you have it, just send me a message and we’ll set a place and time to meet." She paused. "I can’t trust anyone here," she added quietly.

"Alright. That works," Justin replied with a sigh.

Then silence settled between them, thick and uneasy, only the faint hum of the room filled the gap.

Estelle could hear her own heartbeat, fast and uneven, while on the other end, Justin said nothing, just his breathing, steady but distant.

Then his voice came again, softer, almost hesitant. "How are you holding up?"

Estelle parted her lips to answer, but then the door burst open. She flinched, her head snapping up as Roman stepped in, the sharp sound echoing against the walls. His presence filled the room instantly, his eyes already locked on her, searching, demanding.

"What’s going on?" he asked. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried weight.

Estelle let out half a breath, steadying herself. "I’ll wait for your message. Thank you," she said quickly into the phone.

"What’s go—" The line went dead before Justin could finish.

Roman stepped further in, his gaze narrowing slightly. "Who were you talking to?" he asked.

Estelle lowered the phone slowly, her fingers still wrapped around it. "You know you shouldn’t be asking me that."

His jaw tightened. "What do you mean? Of course I need to know who you’re talking to." There was something sharper beneath his words now, something territorial.

She let out a small, humorless breath. "Oh, come off it, Roman. The cameras are off." Her eyes flicked to his, cool and steady. "And as long as they are, I don’t owe you any explanations." Her gaze shifted past him, landing on the maids waiting quietly by the door, their presence almost forgotten in the tension.

Roman paused for a moment, studying her, his brows pulling together as if trying to piece something together. But Estelle didn’t wait. She turned the wheels of her chair, the soft whir cutting through the silence as she moved toward the door.

Before she could reach it, Roman stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

Estelle looked up at him briefly, just a second, before turning her chair slightly and maneuvering around him calmly, as if he weren’t there at all. "I need a room prepared," she said, her tone even as she addressed the maids. "I want some lavender, chamomile, anything that makes it luxurious and relaxing." Her fingers rested lightly on the armrest, but the tension in them betrayed her.

The maids nodded quickly, their hands folding neatly in front of them as they waited for direction.

"Which room should we prepare for the lady, sir?" Mary asked, her voice polite as her eyes flicked to Roman.

Roman barely hesitated. He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Any available room," he said. "It’s not like you have preferences."

Estelle turned her head slowly toward him. For a second, she just looked at him, her jaw tightening, the faintest flicker of disbelief crossing her face. Any available room? A quiet scoff almost escaped her, but she swallowed it down. Joker.

She shifted her gaze back to the maids, her posture straightening slightly in the chair. "I want the room meant for the lady of the house," she said smoothly, her expression composed and indifferent. "That is who I am now isn’t it?"

The air shifted.

The maids exchanged a quick glance before instinctively looking back at Roman, waiting, hesitating. Estelle caught the pause, the uncertainty. Her lips curved faintly. Perfect. She tilted her chin just a touch. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, her tone light, but edged.

Roman let out a short breath, disbelief creeping into his expression. "You’re joking, right?"

Estelle turned her head toward him again, meeting his gaze without blinking. "I’m dead serious."