Page 54

OPHELIA

“ Y es, I mean it. Yes. Yes. Absolutely.” James paces the length of his kitchen. He’s changed into a white button-down shirt and dark gray slacks after we showered together. His fresh cut is bandaged. “No one leaves the quarters, no matter what you hear outside.”

His eyes are on me until he turns around and crosses over to the living room. Then he stares out the window, reconsidering what he’s just said.

“Order everyone except the doctor to take sleeping pills and wear earplugs for the night.”

I wouldn’t say he’s nervous. Excited isn’t the word, either.

He’s a predator anticipating his prey. His spine is straight. Feet planted firmly on the floor in a confident stance, he listens to Clara on the other line.

Watching him is nothing short of fascinating. My body heats up as I take him in. My heart flutters for him.

I’m desperate for him. I wish I could tear off this maxi, long-sleeved, white knit dress he chose for me. I want him to fuck me senseless. His babies in my womb, I want that too.

Instead, I’m standing here, shifting from one foot to the other on my white ballet flats.

What is he even doing here?

What am I?

That’s easy. I love him. I want him to have the most perfect life.

Perfect would be James living his life peacefully. Being there to watch his son grow old. Taking the time to teach Topher how to treat a woman right. Explaining to him until he gets it into his thick skull that women are more than wombs or toys to play with.

James could have a grandson or daughter from Topher—many of them.

He wouldn’t have been in this mess if it weren’t for me.

Because there’s no doubt in my mind that James would annihilate Topher.

Does he really want it, though?

Maybe not now.

But he might regret it years down the road.

When it’s too late.

I love James. I have to let him go.

The rain stopped falling about an hour ago. The moon hangs high in the clear skies, with no clouds to hide it.

James continues his conversation. “Clara, the chef shouldn’t worry about his job. I’m not going to fire him anytime soon.”

I almost laugh. Except my heart isn’t in it.

My heart is hoping for a better life for James.

I tread over toward the front door. He doesn’t notice me as I tiptoe behind him. The floors don’t creak.

Soon, I’m out of his earshot, darting through the dark, silent hallways.

I’m practically floating, despite the lead lining the pit of my stomach.

It has to be done.

This is a selfless act, reaching for the keys he left out here when he got home. Sure, I’m terrified of having my soul ripped in half when he falls out of love with me.

It hurts worse to imagine our future together.

His regret. His resentment over losing Topher. I won’t be able to take it. I don’t wish that for him.

The lock clicks easily with the proper key. I press the handle, careful to stay as silent as possible.

I hold my breath as I open the door he’s left unlocked.

The cold envelops me so quickly that my breath hitches. I suck in a new one, looking down at the stairs that lead to the driveway. They’re wet from the rain, white dots of sleet scattered around it. There’s an overhang above the stairs, but the winds are strong. They brought the elements to us.

They whip my hair around my head.

James’s voice fades as resolution settles into me.

I won’t cry. Won’t let my love for him stop me from doing what’s right.

I’m fixing this for James.

I’ll be fine. I’ll survive wherever I go. I will. Knowing I made the best choice for him will be my sustenance.

“Ophelia.”

Shit.

“Ophelia.”

He never asks. He demands an answer.

I’ll miss that.

A rogue tear slips out. Bastard.

I wipe it with the back of my hand, throwing myself into the mercy of the night. The cold freezes my bones. My breath vaporizes in the freezing cold air. My lips grow numb.

Run .

I have to run before he can catch me. Before my feet go as numb as my lips.

“Ophelia.” He’s closer, despite the distance I’m putting between us.

The wrought-iron fence that seem to reach the sky is up ahead. If I’m lucky, I can climb it and come down without hurting myself.

Heavy footsteps pound on the driveway behind me.

Throughout James’s training, I’ve grown stronger. I have better stamina than I ever had in my entire life. I run, run, run, as fast and as far as I can, the harsh wind freezing me down to my bones.

He’s not calling me anymore. I don’t turn around for one last look. He won’t weaken my resolve.

I’m saving him. Can’t he see that?

Minutes—or is it seconds?—go by. Clean, cold air closes my lungs. My hair flails around me.

James is near. So near.

I hear him. I feel him.

The gates are so close now.

My fingers flex, ready to cling to them. Ready to climb.

Except I don’t need to. I won’t be able to.

The white glow of two headlights slices through the darkness of the night. A black Mercedes approaches.

The gates to the mansion open.

And a large arm hooks around my middle.

“Nicely played,” he whispers in my ear. “But you’re not going anywhere. You belong here. You’ll stay here. I’ve got you.”

“Let me go.” A shiver runs up my spine. “I’m doing this for you.”

Oliver’s car. It’s here, driving slowly past the gates.

“Stay with me. That’s the only thing I could ever want. Only thing I need. For you to be a good girl.” James pulls me tighter into him. Warm. Protective. Furious. “Follow my lead, Sonnet. Remember that no matter what I say or do, I have you. I’m never letting go.”