Darkest Deception (Deception Series)

30

Unknown:ready for me?

Igot that text an hour ago.

Right after I got the email from the hackers I hired. No matter my mixed feelings for Helia, I still want my company.

I can’t let go of that part of me.

Ms Ambrose Torre,

Thank you for the drive. I will be working on it for the next week to retrieve the CCTV footage you have asked for from that specific date. It may take some time as it was very skilfully done and little to no mistakes are shown, but we are confident we will succeed.

I release a sigh of relief, sagging against my chair in my bedroom.

As soon as I saw my stalker in the corner of the picture taken on the day Dad died, I went home, retrieved the CCTV security footage and hard drive. As I went through it, I realised the stalker wasn’t shown on any of it, and I knew someone had tampered with it. So I had tried to find a good enough hacker to recover the deleted footage.

I’m not sure what my next step will be, but since Dad was brutally killed, and the case has now gone cold, it’s not that I am seeking justice for him but rather answers as to why I saw my stalker in that picture and exactly how long he has been meddling with the CCTV footage of my home.

Since Remo visited Helia in his office, there has been a change in him. He has been mostly at home instead of the office, but Remo’s presence here has me on alert. That man is powerful, and even if Helia and he have the same power and authority, Remo feels more like the patient predator that pounces all at once, the one that seems to think carefully, who plans and sits and watches his chess pieces fall just as he forced them to. While Helia, he is one that does it all based on his own mood, reckless, dangerous, rogue, and quite literally unpredictable. Both are vicious in their own way, both commanding.

There is something striking, something alluring in Helia that keeps pulling my eyes back to him.

I hate to admit it, but Helia has been on my mind a lot these past few months. Somewhere along the hateful looks and arguments, something is cripling inside of me.

And I fear this change.

I fear it could ruin me once my secret is out. I fear I’ll be ruined and left with nothing, not even my company if Helia finds out my secret about Aurora, and because he wants me gone, he will use any means to get rid of me. Even if that secret is a wrongfully manipulated situation.

Helia is teasing me day after day, catching me off guard. The small confession from me that day about when I dreamt of him changed something within me. It snapped a small string of control, and now Helia looks at me like he knows everything about me.

Now that we have crossed a line, there is no going back.

There is absolutely no forgetting what we have done, what sin we keep committing.

Why am I risking it all? Why do I feel my heart pound inside of me when he is near me? Why do I want to hold on to a small hope that can only mean I want him when I cannot have him?

Then there is the problem with the stalker.

I don’t know what to do.

Should I tell Helia? Could he get rid of him? Could he do it?

Something in me tells me he could. Maybe I should tell him. This small part of me trusts him, and even if that burning hate for him has diminished, the small ounce of trust he got from me is there. He didn’t use what happened in the elevator that day against me, nor did he use how I pushed him away against me, either. He stayed the same. I need to tell him something about me.

Maybe… maybe he could look past it and we can both trust each other enough?

I’m so confused about how to go about this.

He won’t think I am doing this to get back my company, will he?

What I feel for Helia is different from wanting my company back. I will do that myself, but what if… what if he thinks so? What if he rejects me because I was a ploy to him?

I fear it.

I need to be clear about myself if I ever want something from him.

I’ve never hoped for a partner, for love, affection, or anything.

Not until Helia has done such small things for me that really left me thinking for days. Giving me better tasks, making me eat lunch with him, looking at me like he actually wants and desires me.

And being there at Aurora’s birthday party when I felt left out, watching the consequence of my actions break me apart. He was there, in silence, his presence a blanket of comfort.

Not long ago I found out that he sent an email to all the staff of Glamorous telling them to respect each other just the day after the interns were mouthing me off, and he excluded me from that email.

His threat was very obvious, hinting at the fact that he knows who did it and to whom.

I sat at my desk in silence for ten minutes when I found that out.

He includes me and asks me questions in board meetings and other smaller meetings, something Dad never did, so he didn’t seem like he is asking for help, and he doesn’t let anyone disrespect me as Dad did.

Dad forced me to deal with people ruthlessly while Helia’s one look is enough.

My phone is in my hand, against my chest as I stare at his contact.

I should tell him. Get clear. And just hope.

Is it wrong for me to think that I don’t see hate for me in his eyes anymore?

“Ambrose? We have guests downstairs!” Mom shouts.

I flinch, almost dropping my phone. I quickly rush out and head downstairs, dismissing texting Helia for later tonight, only to stop in my tracks as I spot my friends.

The friends I dropped.

Friends who ruined my skin, my body, and my life.

The Madden sisters.

Layla, Gabriella, and Inara Madden.

The daughters of the pharmaceutical giant who bullied me in school.

My hands tighten into fists, but I won’t back down today.

Why are they here?

“What the fuck are you doing in my home?”

They look at each other, smiling.

Like they didn’t just step into my own home. Like they didn’t love bullying ones below them; like they weren’t part of making me who I am today. Like they don’t fucking care that I suffered so much because of them.

I will never be that weak Ambrose again.

Nor will I ever go back to the way Dad wanted to shape me.

“Oh, we missed you, Ambrose. Remember us? Layla, Gabriella, and Inara?” Layla raises her brows.

“I don’t remember anyone in my life because of how insignificant they always are to me.” I shrug, and their faces fall.

The Ambrose from before Dad’s death is here. She’s here to fight back.

“Don’t be like that now. We came to go for a day out.” Layla takes a step forward, but I raise a hand.

“Don’t be rude to our guests, Ambrose.”

My eyes sharpen on Mum, who stops in her tracks. “Stay out of this.”

She frowns, a glare set on her face for talking like this to her. “Ambrose—”

“Mum. Leave,” I force through my teeth.

She gives the women one last look before scoffing and leaving.

I turn back around towards Layla, who is standing there, arms crossed with a brow raised. Dressed impeccably, a gold watch, perfectly done hair and makeup, dresses screaming thousands of pounds, they are dripping in money thanks to their daddy.

“Get out. I have no time to entertain you, much less people who supposedly claim to know me. Why does security let in unwanted people?” I throw this remark while looking at them.

They all gasp, looking at each as if silently asking if they heard the same thing.

“You will regret disrespecting us, Ambrose.”

I huff a laugh at Gabriella’s offended tone. “Sure. There’s the door.” I point behind them, and they turn around and leave without another word.

I know they will strike back. They will do something. For now, I can’t do anything.

Running back up the stairs, I shake their memories that are fresh in my mind. My throat is parched. I should get some water, but just as I go to shut the door, a hand with sharp nails clamps on my arm, stopping me.

A hiss falls from my lips while pain sears through my shirt, the nails digging into my skin.

My mother.

A sneer is on her face, and the hallway lights casting a yellow shadow on the side of her face.

She doesn’t look like the mother I thought she was.

She looks different.

She looks manic, like a madwoman.

“How dare you turn away the Madden sisters? Do you know what you have just done?” Her low voice and the sharp sting travelling up my arm make my eyes water.

“Yes.” I grind my teeth.

She’s choosing them over me.

“I have arranged a marriage. Between you and the son of the tech giant, Eric Kallias. You know they had some conversations with your father in the past of an alleged alliance, and I am here to secure it and make it true. You will give up your shares in Glamorous and allow us to invest in this marriage.”

My whole world falls apart beneath my feet.

“And you will not, under any circumstance, ruin this for me. Understood?” She gets in my face, her voice raspy and empty.

Empty of emotions. Empty of her relationship to me as my mother. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Just like my father.

She is just like my father.

“Now go to your room because I don’t want to see your face.” She shoves me away from her, her nails scraping against my arm. Blood oozes from the deep scratch of her nails, and I lose my balance.

I see her back, walking away from me as my knee hits the floor, my head falling forward, hitting against the edge of a table, making white dots cover my vision.

I take in deep breaths, blinking away the dizziness, pain emanating from my head.

Placing my hand on my head, I look at it and see red.

Blood.

My breaths turn shallow, but I swallow thickly and get up, walking to my room with a dizzy vision.

As soon as the door shuts behind me, I drop to the floor.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

My heartbeat is so loud, my head lolls to the side, my vision turning black in spaces. Something trickles down my head.

I drop my head back and blink up at the empty ceiling, tears streaming down my face.

I became them, didn’t I? The Madden sisters made me just like them.

Why would anyone want me in their life when they know what I have done?

Getting off the floor, I swallow through the thick bundle of thorns stuck in my throat and walk tentatively towards the bathroom, feeling numb, empty, and tired.

Sighing, I remove my clothes, walk under the shower, turn the water on, and stand under the steaming hot water. Clouds form all around me, my vision blurring as the scalding hot water burns my skin.

Grabbing hold of the loofah, I put soap on it and scrub.

I scrub at the slash marks on my arms.

On my legs.

The cuts and burn marks on my stomach.

I scrub till I feel my skin burn.

I scrub harder until the skin turns from pale to red.

The hot water makes me hiss in pain as the blazing sensation sears through my whole body.

And I keep going.

Doesn’t she have perfect porcelain skin?

How would it look decorated?

Scream louder. I love hearing the sounds of people screaming. It makes me giddy. Beg for my mercy.

No. No.

These gifts might stay with you for the rest of your life.

Your parents may see this and feel sad, or is your dad too power hungry to even know his daughter gets these marks because of how weak she is?

Please.

A sob climbs up my throat as tears coat my eyes, and my hand gets tired. The loofah drops from my grip.

Pressing a hand to my mouth, I drop to my knees, my eyes shutting, and the memories take over.

There is no reason to believe I deserve anything like love, hope, and a happy future. I became who I feared the most.

I am a monster.

I am ruthless.

I made the weak cry.

I am the worst of them all. I shouldn’t have taken that step.

I am such a disappointment.

Sobs wreck my body, my walls crumbling as each brick falls to the floor into a broken mess, the world behind the wall witnessing my destruction. When will it be enough for me?

When will it stop?

I try to take deep breaths to calm myself, but it only gets worse, and I struggle to breathe under the hot water. The steam in the bathroom is so thick, I am barely able to see my arms, legs, or any part of myself.

Shutting off the water, I dry myself before walking out and changing into black leggings and a sports bra.

A moment of emptiness fills me as I stand in the middle of my room. Slowly bending down and crossing my legs under me right in front of my bed, I watch the window to my left, my open balcony doors, the curtains flaring softly against the glass doors.

The soft ruffle of the trees outside swoops into my room, weaving around and helping my mind to calm down. The faint crunch of leaves only means that guards are patrolling around the house.

Crossing my arms and placing them on my knees, I rest my head on my arms and just look out.

Silence envelopes me.

What would happen if I were to not exist?

Mother doesn’t care.

Aurora wouldn’t suffer because of me. She wouldn’t face the bullying both by me and the Madden sisters.

I don’t have actual friends to consider them to be worried about me.

Helia wouldn’t.

I feel something wet trickle down my forehead, but I don’t pay it mind.

“Little sin.”

My head snaps up to the hooded figure standing on my balcony.

And my heart drops.