Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“At first, I was trying to work out what the situation was. Were you using our previous encounter to infiltrate the De Kysa—”
“I would never do something like that,” I cry, a little too passionately.
“And I know that now.” His brows pull together. “When I realized you were asking for help because you truly needed it, I knew I had to do something.”
“You didn’t help me because you’re a good person. You helped me because you felt guilty.”
“Yes, I felt guilty. When I realized what had happened and what it had done to you, it fucking did me in. It set me on a path I never saw coming. It led me to you. To falling in love with you. The plan was easier to carry out when you were just a memory. But then you came along, and all I wanted to do was be around you, and it confused the fuck out of me. I wanted to tell you the truth, but the thought of hurting you made me a coward.”
It’s hard not to think about all the things we did together, all the conversations and moments I felt vulnerable around him. And all the while, this black cloud was hanging over us and I didn’t even know a thing about it. “I feel so stupid.”
“You deserved better, and I didn’t give it to you. But if you give me a chance, I’ll make sure you never feel that way again.”
My heart is begging me to surrender. But my head is a stubborn beast.
“Where have you been?” I ask quietly.
He reaches across to open the glove compartment, and I’m engulfed in his scent, which only makes me ache for him more.
He removes a black box from inside and hands it to me. “Open it.”
I open the box, and inside is an antique silver locket. A ruby gleams in the silver.
I gasp. “It looks like my mother’s.”
“It is your mother’s.”
I turn to look at him. “I don’t understand. It was lost the night she died.”
“It’s where I’ve been all this time. Finding out what happened that night.”
All I can do is stare at him.
“You wouldn’t see me. You wouldn’t let me explain. I couldn’t wait around and do nothing, I had to do something to show you how much you mean to me.” I can hear the regret in his usually confident voice. “I took from you, and it hurt you. I wanted to give you something no one else could. Answers.”
“So you went looking for my mom’s necklace.”
“I knew how much your mother’s death affected you. I thought if I could find out what happened and get the necklace back, at least I could end the pain for you. I knew it was a long shot. It’s been a decade. But I had to at least try.”
“But the police tried to find it. So did my father.”
“The police investigation was flawed. They had several murders that month, and a mobster’s wife who more than likely died an accidental death was not on their list of priorities. And your father was overcome with emotion. He wasn’t clearheaded. He missed leads.”
I touch the gleaming ruby, remembering the last time I saw it around my mother’s neck. It was the evening she died.
“How did you find it?” I ask.
“I found a picture of it and started circulating it through various networks aligned with the De Kysa. It was sold on the black market a few months after your mother’s death.”
“Who had it?”
“You had a gardener, Bert.”
“Yes,” I say. “He was kind and lovely. He wouldn’t hurt my mom.”
“No, but he recognized an opportunity when he saw it. He found your mom, but she was already dead.”
I frown, thinking back to the kindly old man who was quiet and gentle. It’s blurry, but I can remember how upset he’d been after her death. He retired a few months later. “The police interviewed him. Just like they interviewed everyone. But he didn’t know anything and was never a suspect.”
“But he did know something. Your mom’s death was an accident. She slipped and fell. Hit her head. He saw it happen. He tried to save her, but she was dead. When he realized he couldn’t help her, his desperation kicked in, and he stole the necklace.”
“You spoke with him?”
“No, he passed away a couple of years ago. But I spoke with his wife.”
“Did she say why he did it?”
“He wanted to help out his family. He figured your mom was dead, and your dad was rich. It was a temptation born out of desperation. His wife was sick. They had a child with a disability. Money was tight. Life was a struggle.”
I touch the necklace again. “So he stole it because he needed the money.”
“He was desperate to fix a complicated situation. Good people can do things they never thought they would do when they’re backed into a corner.”