Authors: Ellen Wolf
‘
What is it that you hope to achieve with all that?’ She asked, curious to uncover at least some of his intentions. ‘Is your life really that empty that you waste your time seeking revenge on someone you don’t even know for something that happened ages ago?’
‘
I want her to stop and realize things don’t always go her way.’ His jaw set in a grim, tense line as he spoke quietly, the lethal calm of his voice making his words so much scarier. ‘I believe in justice, Emily. Or at least, some kind of it. Steve surely deserved more than his miserable final days when neither Marlene nor Sophie made any kind of the slightest reconciliation efforts. Instead, they cut their losses, collected his insurance policy, and moved on, as if nothing happened. You might find it acceptable, but I don’t.’
‘
It’s been so long,’ she said helplessly, her eyes unable to leave his grim face. ‘She won’t have a clue what brought it all on, unless you point it all out. Are you really so eager to wake up the ghosts of the past?’
‘
It’s not necessary.’ He had it all figured out, she realized, his composed face and lack of hesitation as he answered making it clear that he had thought it through ‘I won’t drag out the past which can’t be changed, as you said yourself. Instead she will get a taste of her own medicine.’
‘
If I do what you want, what guarantees do I have that you won’t go back on your word and let the sale fall through anyway?’ It was a viable question, she thought miserably, afraid that his words were nothing more t than a way to entice her to play along. He did consider her guilty as well, didn’t he? What was to stop him from using and discarding her just as he planned to do with Sophie? Wouldn’t it make his revenge just perfect, the whole family punished for their past sins?
‘
None,’ he admitted freely. Dark eyes scorched her with an intensity that brought to mind images of exotic places far away where wind whistled across an endless sea of sand dunes, the air shimmering with heat. She recalled Sophie’s disappointment at his typical English name and almost laughed, the bubble of hysteria that had been rising in her chest throughout their conversation finally threatening to break through. He might have sounded British and had the right name, but there was nothing even remotely homey about him. His Mediterranean looks and arrogant attitude made it hard to believe he didn’t step out of the pages of some adventure book, white robes and glittering weapons coming to mind.
‘
I won’t give you any legal assurances, if that’s what you mean.’ His gaze traveled over her face and softened just marginally. ‘But I will give you my word, which will have to do. Once my engagement with Sophie falls apart, and she realizes what brought it on—meaning you and me cheating behind her back—you shall receive your restaurant with all the legal bindings.’
‘
She will never talk to me again,’ she whispered, her whole body cold with misery so acute she wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from the world forever. ‘I might get the place, but I’ll lose my family.’
She bit her lip, trying to stop it from trembling. Was it his punishment for her? He must have blamed her for some of the mess. Would it make any difference if she told him about the horrid time when she went to Marlene, pleading for her to listen to what had really happened? How she told her about Sophie’s manipulations, her accusations against Steve nothing more than payback for his paternal concern for her well-being.
Steve had been absolutely livid to find out that Sophie had slept with a married man, the romance becoming more and more brazen. Emily knew about it, of course. Sophie didn’t care about covering her tracks, and Emily suspected that she had actually enjoyed the fact she was the center of attention once more. So when her lover’s wife came by, pleading with Steve to put an end to the madness, he had acted the only way he deemed appropriate, which had ultimate lead to his demise.
Instead of talking to Marlene, he spoke to Sophie, his honest, but harsh, words about the necessity of breaking off the relationship coming as a shock to the girl who wasn’t used to being spoken to that way. Had Marlene been at home that fateful day, she and not Steve answering the door, things might have turned out differently. He had underestimated his stepdaughter’s fury at being actually confronted for the first time in her life. She would make him pay, she fumed, as she paced Emily’s bedroom, her face twisted with anger.
What happened next was not something Emily wanted to think about now. Not when James was there, his accusing eyes and cold-blooded scheming adding to the horrible picture she had tried so unsuccessfully to erase.
‘
I don’t think it will be that bad,’ he retorted, his half smile maddeningly confident. ‘You can always point out it’s nothing more than what she did with Peter. She can’t deny the logic of it. If anything, you might end up in your usual role of her helper and confidante.’ When she didn’t respond, his attention shifted, his eyes focused once more as he said ‘We should concentrate on the future, then. There are some things that need discussing if we want it to run smoothly.’
She wanted to yell that there was no
we
, never would be as long as she had a say at all in the Pandora’s box he was about to open.
‘
But I don’t think it’s a good time for it right now.’ He was ignoring her agitation, his face calm and smooth as he continued, allowing for no interjections. ‘Let’s call it a night and have lunch tomorrow, instead. We can go through all the details then. Consider it the first official step on the path toward redemption, Emily.’ He smiled without warmth. ‘We don’t have much time, you know. I can’t say that I’m going to be able to drag out this farce for too long. Pretending to love someone you detest is harder than I would have ever expected.’
‘
I’m about to find out first-hand, aren’t I?’ She couldn’t help herself, the thought of actually being around him and playing the part of his lover becoming a reality.
She knew he didn’t like her comment, the tightening of his already tense mouth betraying his displeasure. He controlled it well, though. A non-committal smile was all she got in response, his eyes guarded.
‘
We will both have to put on our best show faces.’ Rising to his feet with one fluent motion, his cat-like gracefulness sent her heart aflutter.
He had no right to be so good-looking, she thought wretchedly, hating herself for responding to his masculine appeal. It shouldn’t matter a thing, she scolded herself, watching him walk toward the door.
‘
I’m planning to break off my engagement in two weeks, as we have an official engagement party planned by the end of that week.’ He turned back to her. ‘As you see, your ordeal won’t be lasting too long, Emily. Sleep on this, and I shall see you tomorrow at noon. Should something keep me from picking you up myself, I’ll send a car for you, either way.’ He opened the door, only to pause and look back at her once more. ‘And I suggest you don’t decide to stand me up. I can be a formidable opponent, if needed. I would hate to have you find it out the hard way.’
His dark head dipped in a mockingly respectful gesture, and then he was gone, the light clicking of the door the only sound to break the silence.
She blinked, as if waking up from a dream—a nightmare, really. The weakness that held her spell-bound dissipated, and she found she could think once more. Her hand reached for the first heavy object she could find, her fingers wrapping themselves around the ceramic figure of an angel that graced the chest next to the door. Beautiful, serene, and oh so distant, the little cherub had been a gift from Marlene when she came to visit after Emily moved into the flat. Emily weighed it in her hand, the overwhelming urge to smash it against the door he had just closed winning the battle.
‘
Go to hell,’ she said hoarsely, lifting the figurine and aiming at the paneled, heavy door. ‘Go to hell, and never come back.’
She heard the sound of the figure hitting the door even before she saw it breaking apart, white shards of porcelain littering the floor. Looking down, she saw the little face, miraculously unmarred and gazing back at her with unseeing eyes and a beatific smile that couldn’t be erased. For a second she wanted to step on it, desperate to destroy it and escape its cold scrutiny. Instead, she bent and picked it up, her fingers closing around the delicate features as her fury evaporated.
She felt cold and empty, the hopelessness of it all washing over her in a wave of misery so acute, tears filled her eyes and spilled over her cheeks, their bitter taste reaching her quivering mouth. Sobbing, she slid to the floor, crying, as she hadn’t done in years. Possibly not since Steve’s death.
She had been strong and hadn’t allowed herself to go into the forbidden place in her brain, afraid of what might happen if she let her guard down and grieved for the man she had come to love in the short time they lived together. Now it came back to her, all the misery and regrets assaulting her anew as she cried miserably, her whole body wracked by sobs.
She didn’t even notice the jagged edge of the broken figure cutting into the soft flesh of her palm as she held it tightly. Only when she calmed down did the stinging of her fresh wound and the vivid red blood staining the pristine white porcelain figure bring it to her attention, the cut in her palm an almost welcome distraction from pain that was so much more complex and impossible to heal. She watched the beads of blood form on her hand, unable to do anything but stare in sick fascination.
Her fate had caught up with her, and there was nowhere to run. Twelve years ago she had failed to save Steve, her efforts silenced out of selfish fear of being sent away if she didn’t calm down. Her angel of revenge had arrived, the invisible sword of justice in his hands dealing cuts far deeper and more painful than the small knick she suffered. And she was afraid.
Usually Emily liked her Sunday mornings to be a bit less hectic and busy than the rest of the week. Always one to rise early, she enjoyed the freedom of doing absolutely nothing. The long hours of Saturday—the busiest day in the restaurant—drained her energy, and the sense of calm and peace that greeted her on Sunday morning helped to restore her strength better than anything else.
Her balcony faced the small, yet lush, garden belonging to the complex. The faint breeze rising from dew-covered bushes and flowers greeted her like a good friend as she sat sipping her morning coffee. It was her time, free of obligations and errands. Warming her face in the sun or watching the raindrops turn the landscape into a watercolor masterpiece, she gave herself permission to forget the world and restore her inner balance and
joie de vivre
.
Only today was different. Waking from her restless dreams, she had the short luxury of being disoriented and almost certain that the previous evening had never happened— the dark, tall stranger with scorching eyes and icy smile was but a figment of her overactive imagination. She stretched in her pristine white sheets with the tiny embroidered roses decorating the otherwise simple fabric, her tense muscles begging to be warmed with a hot shower. She would run a bath instead, she decided sleepily, with tons of bubbles and her favorite fragrance of lilies of the valley. After that it would be time for coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich, the simple comfort food that never failed to lift her up.
A sudden, sharp sting of pain distracted her from her dreamy musing, the throbbing in her palm shaking off remnants of sleep better than ten cups of coffee ever could.
She sat up awkwardly, her eyes going to her hand almost reluctantly, afraid of what was waiting. Sure enough, her left palm sported a band-aid running across the soft flesh. Flexing her fingers made her flinch as the pain radiated from the wound all the way to her fingertips.
She remembered now, the good mood evaporating like snow melting in the sun. It wasn’t a bad dream after all. It had happened, all of it. Her whole body tensed as she recalled the way James had spoken to her. In the end he had won, hadn’t he? She had to agree to whatever plan he had, if only out of sheer survival instinct, aware of the fact that he would do whatever he wanted, no matter what she did.
Unable to stay in bed any longer, she got up, pushing aside the sheets with one determined motion. It was dangerous to think about James in bed, she thought, embarrassed by the forbidden images of his body popping into her head. It didn’t really matter that her brain recognized him as an enemy, warning her to keep her distance. Her usual common sense abandoned her completely the moment she recalled his dark gaze and the slow smile that made him look both incredibly sexy and lethally dangerous.
Any thoughts of breakfast faded away, the realization of what was to come in just a few hours tying her into nervous knots. A quick glance at her clock made things even worse. The perfect internal clock that woke her each and every morning had failed miserably on the one truly important occasion.
She scrambled around, desperate to get ready. It was ten thirty, the cheerful light pouring into her bedroom at odds with her morbid mood. He wanted them to have lunch together, she recalled as she dressed hastily.
Her plain lavender shirt and plum-colored skirt made her look too young and vulnerable, she decided, displeased with her reflection in the mirror. She needed to project at least some of the same air of confidence that came to him with such offensive ease.
She was not big on make up, Sophie’s patient and not-so-patient hints falling on deaf ears on most occasions. Today was different. She did the best she could with the rather sparse collection of beauty products she owned, most of them gifts from her stepsister. A bit of eyeliner, mascara and rouge went a long way, she decided, almost surprised as she eyed herself carefully. She pinned up her long, brown hair and considered changing into something more sophisticated. In the end, she decided against it, her concession with makeup the only one she was willing to make.