Page 167 of Uprising

When her husband died, Francis was free to marry Robert. Only clearly she wasn’t a big enough name for him to tie himself with. Everyone knew he was philanderer, that he’d slept with half of Verona. Did it come as a shock to her that he didn’t overlook her poor origins? Was that why she told Carla who her father really was? Or did Carla only find that out after she’d slept with Darius?

Clearly it didn’t bother them. From what she insinuated they continued the relationship after they found out they were half-siblings but I doubt Darius would ever have married her even if his father hadn’t had been the one to force Carla down the aisle to Ignatio.

No, she too was small-fry. She too didn’t have enough clout for the Blumenfeld glamour.

But a Capulet was different.

Carla in siding with Ignatio took herself from the middle ranks to the big time. I wonder how much Robert paid to set up that match, to get her safely dealt with. I don’t doubt Carla worked her charm. That though she wanted Darius she wasn’t so stupid as to let something like love turn her head. No, Ignatio could give her power, and prestige, and a status in this city far above her own.

And Rose, being who she was, was enough to get Paris’s attention. Enough to get Darius’s too.

And I bet Carla loved and hated every minute of it.

I let out the snarl, downing the last of my glass.

The chalet is rural. Completely isolated on the side of a mountain far from anywhere. There’s a track road that in summer would lead right up to it but in winter I don’t doubt it’s completely cut off.

Darius must be stewing there. Waiting out the snow and the cold until the spring thaws and he can rise up again.

Only this time I won’t let him.

This time we’re going to take the fight to him.

I pull up some altitude maps, making a plan. Access won’t be easy. Surrounding it won’t be easy either. No doubt he’ll have traps. He’ll be prepared. I bet he’s dug in and made himself a little fortress.

I just need to figure out exactly how to pop the box open and get to the treasure inside.

Walking through the house it feels quiet, more empty without Sofia. She messages me, daily. One liners saying she’s okay.

I tried calling and she picked up but didn’t speak. She just sat there and all I could hear was her breathing.

I had to call Koen. I hated that I did it and yet I had to put my pride aside and ensure my sister was safe.

We don’t know how Carla got through our defences. Maybe it was luck. Maybe she’s being hiding down the bottom of the garden for a while. It’s certainly big enough for her to have done it.

Tomorrow Hastings is coming to collect her and the bitch will finally be out of our hair.

I let out a sigh as I reach our bedroom. If I could I would gut her myself, I would tear the very flesh from her skin for every hateful word she spoke. But that won’t save Rose.

And besides, I meant what I said. She isn’t worth it.

We’ve given so much of our lives. Lost so much in this. I’m not willing to sacrifice anything more than I need to now that we can finally see the end.

“Roman?”

I look up seeing Rose sat up, leaning against the headboard, frowning through the darkness at me.

“You’re awake.” I say.

“Where were you?”

I wonder if she thinks I’d gone back down there, if I went to the basement to finish the job after all.

I walk up to her, sit down and take her hand. “I did it.” I say.

“Did what?” She asks her voice betraying her concern.

“I found out where he is.”