I sit on the edge of the bed, studying my wife as she sleeps. The soft rising tide of her breaths is the only comfort I have found in the wake of recent events. To know that she is here, she is alive, is everything.
I understand now that there is nothing Abel won’t do to save himself. There isn’t a soul he wouldn’t sacrifice to spare his own. Words can’t describe the terror that plagues me over what transpired with Colette and her baby. What could have happened?
It could have been Ivy.
It could have been our baby.
And it also could have been Eva.
More than ever, I am confronted by the fact I’m not equipped to handle the myriad of emotions brought to the surface by this situation. The burden of responsibility is so great, and I never expected to feel... so much.
It isn't just Ivy, or Eva, or my sister. It's Marco, Antonia, and my entire staff too. They are embroiled in this situation merely by being in my employ, and I feel a duty to protect them all, as any honorable man should. But it goes beyond duty. It is a desperate need... the likes of which I have never felt before.
When I heard the news of Colette, I did not even think. It was second nature for me to issue my commands. To lock down The Manor, and everyone in it. But in the midst of rattling off those orders, I also found myself instructing Marco to request extra security for Eli. The man I have sworn to loathe for eternity. The man who I had intended to kill just days ago.
I can no longer deny that something inside me is changing. Call it softness, weakness, whatever the appropriate term, the ice block where my heart used to be is beginning to thaw, making room for the warmth of a spring I never anticipated. And it’s all because of her.
I reach out, stroking a lock of her hair between my fingers, and my breath stalls in my lungs. She truly is the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld. A likeness which, try as I might, I cannot seem to capture in my artwork. The delicate curves and lines I draw over and over do her no justice. Nothing can imitate the reality.
I wonder why it is that every man doesn’t fall to his knees when they see her enter a room. And I suppose it’s because they don’t see her as I do. The feelings she evokes in me are overwhelming in nature, too powerful to be defined by the prettiest superlatives. What we have together is too great to be contained by the average turn of phrase. Too rare. It is something I am only just beginning to understand. But understanding and acceptance are still two worlds apart, and I have not mastered the latter.
She possesses every quality I do not. Softness, purity, beauty… in every sense of the word. I am merely a beast of a man, yet, she professes to love me.
My darker half wants to deny it still because that is the easiest thing to do. But the lies we tell ourselves are only effective as long as we believe them. And she is still here. Aching for my company. My touch. She does not flinch at the sight of me, choosing to draw me closer in spite of everything. I would be fooling myself to insist it's a scheme of manipulation. She doesn't have that darkness in her. She couldn't fake the emotion in her voice when she confessed those haunting words.
She is in love with me... and I am helpless to it.
I don't even know what love is. What it feels like. But I know whenever she’s in my presence, I can't look away from her. My blood warms, and my eyes darken, and lightning fills my veins. The organ in my chest beats harder, faster, and I count the seconds until my hands are on her. Claiming her. Owning her.
Is that love?
I don't know.
I don't know anything anymore, except for this suffocating feeling is growing every day that Abel is still out there. As long as he is alive, he is a danger to her and my family and anyone else around us.
Jackson made it very clear to me when we spoke that he believes the same. Abel will destroy anyone he can to get to me. Women and children are not excluded from that list, even if they are his own blood. We can’t move forward until I know he’s dead. Ivy and our child will never be safe until he’s gone, and it’s up to me to make it so.
Right now, that goal has to be my primary focus.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, signaling a text from Marco. The news I've been expecting. I check it quickly and then lean down to kiss my wife on the cheek, closing my eyes and inhaling her.
"Sleep soundly, sweet Ivy."
I rise slowly and head for the door, activating the motion sensors I had installed in the room and then the electronic lock. Ivy can come and go freely, but not without me receiving alerts any time the door opens.
Securing her inside, I return the phone to my pocket and head downstairs to greet my guest.
"Would you like me to stay, boss?" Marco asks.
"No. Thank you, Marco. You can go."
He nods and shuts the door to my office, leaving me alone with Eli.
The old man is waiting for me in one of the lounge chairs by the fire, a cane propped against his leg. He seems to be progressing in his recovery, but it has done nothing to alter the frailty of his appearance. Or perhaps that is just my perception of him.
I walk to my desk and eye the bottle of scotch before thinking better of it. When I turn to meet Eli's gaze, there is a resolve in his eyes that surprises me. He is solemn but resolute as he forces himself to sit up taller.
"If you are going to do this here, I ask that you do it somewhere my daughters won't hear it."
"You think I brought you here to kill you?" I reply coldly.
"I expect as much." He shrugs. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. You want Abel. He is wreaking havoc on your life. I'm sure you have considered all the possibilities, but we both know there is only one way to draw him out."
"Yet you came willingly." I frown.
His expression softens, and for a moment, I am reminded of the man I used to know. The man who spent countless hours at my side, imparting his wisdom to the interloper who would take over his position in IVI. At the time, I had thought it strange that he seemed to hold no resentment toward me. In fact, I had only ever regarded him to have admiration for me. He spoke as if he respected me, as if he were proud of me. And I had never known that I had thirsted for such approval until I had his.
Now, everything between us has changed. I have surpassed him in knowledge and exceeded all expectations for my role. I have outperformed his legacy on every level. I have commandeered half of his family and have made known my murderous intentions for the rest. Yet, he still comes when I call for him. He still looks at me as one might imagine a father should look at their son. I cannot comprehend it.
"I came because I accept that I am partly responsible for what happened to your family," he says. "And while I cannot confess to being as devious as you would like to believe, I set the events into motion unknowingly. And therefore, I understand your position. If my departure from this life will bring you peace, then peace you shall have. I know I cannot stop you, and I won’t hide from the inevitable. So long as you can guarantee that none of my daughters will ever be harmed by your hand."
I stare at him, blank, shaking my head in disgust. I can't tell if it's disgust for him or me.
"As much as I think it would please me to end your life, my wife claims she will never forgive me, and I am inclined to believe her."
Eli's hand shakes as he reaches inside his jacket, retrieving an envelope. "I have already written them both letters. I think it will be difficult for them, but in time, I hope they can move forward."
I glance at the envelope, curious at the contents, and then dismiss the thought entirely.
"I will need you to die, Eli." I prop myself against the edge of the desk and fold my arms. "But for now, it will be temporary."
His brows furrow together as his hand settles into his lap, still clinging to the letter. "You want to fake my death?"
"Thursday morning, the IVI coroner will arrive at the hospital and leave with your remains. An official statement of your death will be released by noon, and I anticipate by the end of the day, whoever is leaking information to Abel will deliver the news."
"And where will I be during this time?" he asks.
"You’ll be given a sedative for transport, after which you’ll be driven to a funeral home and smuggled out by my men. There's a small cottage on the property here for the groundskeeper. Marco has already secured it and outfitted the entire location with cameras. The refrigerator and pantry are well-stocked, and you will have what you need to survive during your stay there."
"How do you know this will work?" he asks.
"Because nobody but Marco and myself will know you are still alive," I answer bitterly. "Abel will have men watching, I'm certain, and it must look authentic when my wife and I attend your funeral at the end of the week. Your family’s grief must be real."
"You aren't going to tell her?" he croaks.
I look away, swallowing the tension knotting my throat. "I have no choice. Ivy can’t shut down her emotions. She can’t keep a secret like this from her family. She wouldn’t be able to watch them suffer while she knows the truth. This is the only way to ensure Abel’s return. So, as far as Ivy is concerned, you will have died of natural causes."
"But she won't believe you," he protests.
I meet his gaze, narrowing mine. "That is for me to worry about."