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CHAPTER TWENTY

“Life offers us tickets to places which we have not knowingly asked for.”

~ Maya Angelou

Em

I woke feeling surprisingly rested considering the encounter with Brandi and all the human interaction I’d had the day before. My ankle looked good and when I stood, it felt a lot better. I went to the bathroom, washed, brushed, did all the morning stuff, and put on clean clothes.

I was shocked the first time I saw all the new clothes Saros had bought for me. With some comfortable but nice clothes on, I decided to head downstairs to the dining room this morning. I really wanted to make sure Saros was okay.

Admittedly, I’d worried in bed for about an hour until sleep claimed me. He was talking to Brandi, and I had no idea what that meant or what he’d do.

By the time I made it to the dining room, I was eager to sit. My ankle was okay, but it still ached.

“Good morning.” Dafni smiled as I entered.

“Morning.”

The little girl, Maeve, sat beside her eating, and there was a baby rocking gently in a swing close by. Saros’s aunt and uncle were also eating and greeted me.

Penelope motioned to a chair. “Have a seat; Martha will bring out breakfast for you.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

Saros wasn’t here nor were any of his guys. I didn’t want to ask—it was none of my business. So once Martha brought out my food, I ate, joined in the light chatter, answering simple questions when asked.

After breakfast, I excused myself and saw Paulo as I left the dining room.

“Em, how are you feeling?”

“A lot better. Um, do you think Saros would mind if I hung out in the conservatory for a bit? I love that room.”

Paulo smiled. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll let him know you’re there; I’m on my way to see him now.”

“Thank you.”

It was raining today, thunder rumbled from far away, and little flashes of peekaboo lightning appeared every so often. I went straight to the couch I’d sat on the other day and watched the storm through the panoramic view.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter, and once the rain really started pouring, a laugh escaped me.

“It’s the best show on earth.” Saros’s voice startled me more than the thunder. “Sorry to frighten you.” He walked over to the couch but didn’t sit; he opted for the comfy chair beside it.

“It’s stunning in here.”

“When the sun shines, it’s pretty, but I love it more during storms. Snow is the best. Like swirling flakey tornados dancing along the glass.”

It was poetic how he phrased it, and I very much wanted to see it for myself. I was about to say that, but I noticed the expression on his face. Sadness, grief. I was well-versed in those emotions. Then I took in the dark smudges under his eyes.

“Saros, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Long night is all.”

We sat in comfortable silence, listening to the raging storm outside. I was content, but every so often I’d glance at Saros and his face would be pinched, as if he were struggling with something.

“Whatever’s on your mind, you can talk to me if it’ll help.”

He smiled at me, but it never touched his eyes. “I got some bad news about someone I care about, and I’m trying to figure out how to tell them.”

Oh, I didn’t envy that . “That’s hard. I mean, do they need to know?”

He sighed. “Need as in, will it save them? No. But it’s information they’d likely want. I just know it’s going to hurt them.”

He really was a huge teddy bear…with homicidal tendencies, of course.

“I’ve never had to give anyone bad news before. But I suppose if I had to, I’d start out by saying to them that I had something difficult to tell them, that it will upset them, but that you’re not going anywhere and that whatever they’re feeling after hearing it, you’d share that with them.”

He cocked his head, his blue eyes as stormy as the skies. He rose from the chair and moved over to the couch, kneeled in front of me, and tenderly placed his hand on my knee.

“Em.”

“Yeah?”

“I have something difficult to tell you.”

“Oh…” It was me.

“It’s going to upset you, but I’m not going anywhere, and whatever you feel after hearing what I have to tell you, I’ll share that burden.”

“Well, this isn’t going to be good.”

“It was a long night last night because Brandi shared some information with me. Mike, my tech guy, he was up also, and I was right there with him while he untangled more knots and traps and whatever they say in the web to prove what she said was true.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“What did she tell you?”

“She claimed to know who your parents are. She was working with Ramsey—quite closely, actually—over the last year, and he told her.”

Saros knew who’d abandoned me, who’d left me with the Brookeses, and he didn’t want to tell me because it would hurt me. That was why he appeared so shattered.

“Go ahead, Saros, you can tell me.” I had my suspicions, but every time the thought had popped into my head I dismissed it. It was a dark daydream.

“Em, you have to understand, I tried to find the lie.”

“But you couldn’t, and the news is horrifying isn’t it? Someone didn’t love me enough, so they sold me to Ramsey or gave me to him free of charge?” It was the nightmare that had swirled around my head for years.

He closed his eyes and rubbed a hand along his face. “I wish that was what happened.”

If he’d rather that be the truth, I feared hearing it at all.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Em.” He opened his hand, inviting me to hold it. I took it, and my small one was engulfed by his much larger one. The warmth there was almost overwhelming, and I stared at his hand. He’d used these to hurt, probably kill, but right now he was comforting me with them.

“Just say it, please.”

“Ramsey and Shyla are your parents.” He spoke in a rush, as if the words poured acid over his tongue.

That…that was not what I’d thought he was going to say. I blinked and gawked at Saros. I replayed what he said a few times, but at no point did that make any sense. RJ was their son, and they loved him, treated him as if he were a god. If I was their flesh and blood too, why would they be so awful?

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t believe Brandi when she told me, and it’s why Mike had to dig. Brandi explained that Ramsey never wanted another child after he had his heir in RJ. But Shyla got pregnant and didn’t want to get rid of the baby. Ramsey, he never wanted you. Once you were born, Shyla got heavy into drugs and drinking, and Ramsey was her supplier…it left you vulnerable.”

I was part of him, but he didn’t want me.

“I see,” I croaked.

“They hired a midwife, Gretchen Friedland. Upon your birth, Ramsey made sure no papers were filed. Gretchen was paid a lot for her silence. But Mike tracked her down last night, and we called her. She’s almost eighty-nine and very sick, Em. She said it had weighed on her all these years, and it was a relief to let it go. If it wasn’t for her, we’d have never found out the truth.”

“I…” All those years, the pain, the hatred. “Why?”

In a movement so swift, Saros scooped me onto his lap and engulfed me in his arms.

“He’ll pay, Em. They both will, I promise.”

I didn’t know what I wanted. Was revenge what I needed? Or maybe doing nothing was. If my own blood hated me so much to treat me as they had all these years, how could anyone ever love me?

The dam broke, a sob tore through my chest, and Saros held me tighter, never telling me to stop, never leaving. He was keeping the promise he’d made to take on my burden.