Chapter 15
Fiona’s POV
The car came to a halt in front of the house, and I tentatively exited, the low thrum of the engine receding behind me. The wind was gentle, teasing, brushing across my cheeks as if to soothe me. But I didn’t feel like being comforted.
I put a forced, practiced, almost smiling smile on my lips, in case there were any staff watching, but even I could tell that tiredness was pulling at my face. A storm of thoughts played on repeat in my head, while my body moved to the next room.
As soon as that door clicked shut behind me, I dropped the smile. A thick, heavy silence met me. Killian was nowhere in sight. For a second, I was grateful. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to pretend. Not right now.
Dropping my bag on the hallway bench, I walked into the living room. The moment I came within sight of the couch I fell onto it, my arms dropping down next to me, my eyes blankly staring at the ceiling.
I never thought Edward was a drug guy.
That word felt so foreign in relation to him: drugs. He was always neat and tidy, steady, focused. But then again, maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. He wasn’t addicted, according to Janette. Just used them occasionally. “To take the edge off,” she’d murmured. So how does someone like that end up dead?
Something wasn’t adding up.
And yes, if he did drugs here and there… it didn’t explain the sudden death. Or why the burial was so hastily arranged. Why didn’t his family demand an autopsy? Why was there no further question?
I passed a hand over my face and let out a long sigh. The more I thought, the more knots developed in my chest. It didn’t feel like suicide. It felt… orchestrated. Smooth. Just like Killian said. Someone powerful, maybe. Or someone scared.
And now, I knew I’d need help to do this. I’d opened a door that led into something dark. Darker than I’d anticipated. Then I had to get Killian involved again. He had the resources. The reach. And the ruthlessness this situation was clearly going to require.
But the very idea of dragging somebody else into this made my stomach roil.
My head throbbed.
The cushions seemed to swallow me as my thoughts spiraled deeper into that darkness. What would happen if I just left everything? Suppose I hadn’t attempted to fight Desmond? What if I hadn’t involved Edward in my vengeance?
Would he still be alive?
A harsh laugh escaped me. And here I was thinking I was defeating beasts. But perhaps I was also starting to become one.
Edward didn’t ask for this. He was merely a pawn in a war he never signed up for.
And now, he was gone.
I could feel tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them at bay. I couldn’t allow myself to fall apart, not now. But the guilt settled heavy in my chest.
I should have seen the signs. Should’ve left him out of this. Should’ve protected him.
If I hadn’t given him that information, if I hadn’t asked him to dig into Desmond’s files, and testify against him, then none
of this would have happened. Perhaps Edward would still be working quietly, trying to live his simple life, breathing.
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3:03 pm
Chapter 15
laughing.
Maybe his body wouldn’t be laid down in the earth, with secrets decomposing with him.
A sob was about to escape my throat, but I bit it back, burying my face in my hands. My skin was cold, clammy. My pulse thundered in my ears.
This was my fault.
I did this.
Edward trusted me. And I led him to his death.
I sat on the couch, hugging my knees, as if that could save me from the freezing guilt seeping into my bones.
He would not have died and it was my fault.
+28)
The knots in my chest hadn’t loosened, despite the fact I attempted to slip even deeper into the couch cushions. The same thought kept running through my head – if I hadn’t pulled Edward into this mess, he’d probably still be alive. With my eyes closed, I hoped for some peace until a sharp chime from my phone pierced the silence.
I grabbed it blearily, bracing for more spam or an empty notification. Except it was a message from my brother.
“Mum and Dad want to see you. Come home today. And bring your husband.”
My eyes froze on the screen.
Bring my husband?
I let out a confused chuckle. How did he forget that this was all a pretense? That my so–called husband happened to be Killian Sinclair–the man I had to get into a contract with for revenge?
I massaged my temples and picked up the phone.
“Hey,” he answered casually.
“Why do you want me to bring Killian?” I asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
He sighed as if I weren’t seeing the obvious. “Because Mum and Dad asked. They want to meet him formally, and you two have been married for weeks now.”
“Yeah, contract married,” I said under my breath.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I deflected. “I’m just… I’m not sure he’s coming. You realize now this wasn’t really a marriage.”
“So?” he shot back. “You don’t know until you try. And you and Killian were friends long before all this, Fiona. You don’t think he’s going to show up for you if you ask?”
I bit my lip. He wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll try.”
“Good. “Mum made jollof rice,” he added before hanging up, threatening to tempt me with food as though I was still twelve.
2/4
Chapter 15
I walked around the room, staring at my phone. I didn’t want to ask Killian. Not because I was afraid he’d say no- but because i was afraid of what his answer might mean. If he didn’t want to, it would be like a smack of how fake all this was. But if he said yes….
No. I couldn’t let myself hope.
Still, I dialed his number.
It rang.
And rang
And rang.
No answer.
I rolled my eyes and threw the phone on the couch. “Well at least I tried,” I said under my breath. Maybe that’s my excuse, huh? I called. He didn’t answer. I did my part.
Suddenly, a few minutes later, the phone buzzed again. This time, his name appeared on the display.
I felt my eyes widen and I picked up fast. “Hello?”
“What do you want?” Killian’s voice crackled through, cool and unbothered like always.
I hesitated. My voice couldn’t have behaved, so I stammered instead, “Urn … my parents… they wanted to see me. And..….. us.”
There was silence.
“So… I was wondering if you’ll go with me,” I blurted awkwardly.
“Or,” he had said, the tone impossible to read, “are you going to make excuses for me?”
I paused, caught off guard. “Well… good freaking luck with that, I just figured you wouldn’t want to. I mean-”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he interrupted. “They’re my in–laws, no?”
My breath hitched slightly. “So… you’ll come?”
“Go ahead of me,” he said. “You’ll meet me there.”
1 stared dumbly at the phone as if I had misheard him. “You mean… you’re actually coming?”
“Yes, Fiona. I’m not that unreliable” Then he hung up.
I looked at the phone for several more seconds, shocked. Then I scrambled off the couch, sprinted upstairs and quickly changed into something my mother would deem “wife appropriate.” A light floral blouse and fitted skirt – not too serious, not too flashy. Just enough to be like, I’m doing OK.
I drove for my parents‘ house, my heart racing all the way.
What if he didn’t show?
I couldn’t exactly blame him, could I? We weren’t real. This was not love it was business. But when the gates to my childhood home opened up, revealing the familiar white–brick house with its neatly trimmed hedges and flower pots, an odd feeling welled up inside me.
3/4
Chapter 15
Doubt.
As soon as I walked in, my mum pulled me into a hug, her perfume enveloping my senses flower. Even tied up in a casual bun, she still looked a picture of radiance.
–
soft vanilla and some kind of
“My darling girl!” she exclaimed. “Where is your husband?”
I paused, searching for the right way to say it. “Mum… I don’t think he’ll come. He’s been super busy at work lately and
I was interrupted by the sound of a car driving up outside.
We both craned toward the door, and I held my breath.
I saw him through the curtain–draped window.
Killian.
Exiting a glossy black sedan, he wore a suit that was cut to sharp perfection, with dark glasses covering his eyes and his expression inscrutable.
He actually came?
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