Page 39 of Goldrage (The Chrysophilist Trilogy #3)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
AURELIA
I t’s morning, and I’m drifting through the estate’s marble corridors like a ghost, my mind consumed by the conversation with Adrian that ended so abruptly the night before.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Adrian wasn’t listening to me and kept insisting I was in his room.
But more than that… I feared someone was in his room.
Dear God, please let Adrian have been hallucinating.
I enter the east wing, lost in thought and dread. I pass a door that’s slightly open, and then I freeze. I walk backwards and glance at the nameplate. Bianca’s room. Through the gap, I can see afternoon sunlight painting the walls in shades of gold and amber. The room looks empty.
I’d seen Bianca in the garden just ten minutes ago, clinging to Adrian’s arm as he took his daily walk. I’m sure she’s still out there. They’ll probably be out there for at least twenty more minutes.
After glancing up and down the empty hallway, I push the door open wider, my heart hammering as I step into enemy territory.
I have no plan beyond the nagging feeling that I might find answers, either proof Bianca and Lady Harrow had been scheming, or no proof.
No proof would actually be better, because then Adrian just imagined it all.
Bianca’s room is everything I expected: overly feminine, decorated in shades of pink and cream that would make even a teenage girl gag. Expensive perfumes crowd the vanity table; designer clothes hang in the walk-in closet.
But it’s what I find in the ensuite bathroom that makes the walls close in and my ears ring. Hidden under the sink behind a bunch of skincare products is a silk bag with three items: a red wig, green contacts, and an open box of ovulation tests.
My hands shake as I hold up the wig, the synthetic strands sliding through my fingers. The truth crashes over me in waves so devastating I have to grip the counter to keep from swaying.
Adrian hadn’t been hallucinating. Bianca was in his room.
And she took advantage of him. Bianca, wearing a wig and contacts, used his love and longing against him in the most violating way imaginable.
The ovulation tests suggest her motive; she’s desperate to conceive a child that would secure her position in the Harrow family.
No, Lady Harrow orchestrated this. She convinced Bianca to rape her own husband.
Rage unlike anything I’ve ever felt floods through my system. It’s all-consuming and blinding. My vision narrows until all I can see is red, my hands clenching into fists as I imagine wrapping them around Bianca’s throat and squeezing until the life leaves her disgusting eyes.
Clutching the wig, I storm toward the door, my mind already planning Bianca’s destruction.
I’ll find the bitch in the garden, expose her crimes in front of Adrian and the guards, watch her try to explain herself.
Then I’ll kill her. I’ll grab a rock and bash her skull in.
Or I’ll choke her. Drown her in the fountain.
However it happens, it’ll be painful for her.
The hallway blurs past as I storm through the mansion. I’m so focused on my target that I don’t notice Valentine until he steps directly into my path, his weathered face creased with immediate concern.
“Aurelia,” he says carefully, his trained eye taking in my wild expression and the damning evidence clutched in my hands. “What is it?”
“Get out of my way,” I snarl, trying to push past him toward the garden doors. I can see them just at the end of the corridor. “I’m going to kill that?—”
Valentine’s hands close around my shoulders, guiding me toward a nearby study despite my struggles. “Not here,” he says quietly.
“Let me go!” I fight against his grip, but Valentine’s strength makes my efforts pointless. He maneuvers me into the study and closes the door, creating a barrier between my rage and its intended target.
“Breathe,” he commands. “Just breathe and tell me what you found. I’m here to help.”
The words pour out of me in a torrent of fury and disgust. I tell him about Adrian’s argument with me, how he thought I had visited him, about finding the wig and contacts, about the ovulation tests.
By the time I’m done, my fury has softened into tears; I can’t believe that bitch would hurt Adrian like that.
Valentine’s face grows darker as I speak, his jaw clenching. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes when I finish. “That sick, twisted?—”
“Lady Harrow helped her,” I add, my voice raw with emotion. “She had to. Bianca’s not smart enough to disable cameras. Lady Harrow must’ve helped, otherwise Julian would know by now. Lady Harrow and Bianca planned this together. I just know it.”
Valentine’s expression shifts from rage to something that might be heartbreak.
He nods with understanding, his shoulders sagging under the weight.
“Probably. It fits her pattern. I’ve seen them talking more and more lately.
Liora uses whatever tools are available, sacrifices whoever is necessary.
I’m… I’m sorry. She wasn’t always this way, not that it’s an excuse. ”
“I’m going to murder them both,” I say, my voice steady again despite the tears streaming down my face. “I’m going to make them suffer before I?—”
“No. You’re not. I know you want to, but it’s not the time. You’ll put Julian and Adrian at risk.”
“Julian?” I spit out. Why is Valentine worried about Julian? But I take a breath because he’s right… if I react without thinking it’ll hurt Adrian. And ultimately our plan to bring the Consortium down.
I’m just so fucking pissed it’s hard to breathe.
“Need some onions?” Valentine asks softly, and the inside joke undoes me. The rage that had been sustaining me crumbles into devastation. Valentine pulls me against his solid chest as I collapse, sobbing with the full force of my grief and fury and helplessness.
Valentine’s arms close around me carefully, as if I might shatter at any moment.
He doesn’t try to quiet my tears or offer empty words, he simply holds me while I fall apart.
I’m brought back to when I was a little girl and he was always there to comfort me.
His betrayal still cuts deep, but right now, he’s here.
Whether he’ll still be on my side in the future, I don’t know. But right now…
After a while, I pull back to look at Valentine through puffy eyes. “I need to see Adrian. I need to tell him what I found. He needs to know the truth.” My heart breaks at having to tell him something like this, that he was violated, but it shouldn’t be kept a secret.
Valentine sighs heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. “It’s getting dangerous, arranging these meetings. The security staff is already asking questions about patrol rotations, and if Julian or Lady Harrow starts connecting the dots...”
“I know. But he deserves to know the truth. I need to see him. And… he needs to prepare for if Bianca actually gets pregnant.” Please God, don’t let it take. If Bianca is pregnant, it’ll complicate everything too much.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Valentine says. “But it might take a few days to set up something that won’t raise suspicions.” He gently extracts the wig from my death grip, examining it with disgust. “I’ll return this to her room. She can’t know you found it.”
I want to show Adrian the wig, but I understand. It’s better not to alert Lady Harrow or Bianca that we know. Adrian will just have to trust my words.
As we prepare to leave the study, I catch Valentine’s arm. “I… I appreciate everything you’re doing. But it doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
Valentine’s face falls, but he nods. “I know. I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.”
“But… thank you. We couldn’t do this without you. I can’t forgive yet because it still hurts too much, but… someday. Someday I want to get to that point. I want to give you a second chance.”
Valentine’s smile is watery but genuine, hope flickering in his eyes. “Someday is more than I have any right to ask for. I’ll earn it. However long it takes, I’ll earn your forgiveness. I love you.”
I actually believe him. And… he’s still my father. Down beyond the pain, I still love him back.
We leave the study separately, Valentine heading toward Bianca’s room while I retreat toward the library.
But the rage still burns inside my chest like a coal, and I know that when I finally see Bianca again—when I’m forced to watch that lying bitch touch Adrian with hands that violated him—it will take every ounce of self-control I possess not to tear the woman apart.