Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
ADAM
T he castle feels so empty without Isabelle. My days are long and boring. I spend most of my time in the theater, watching the movies we watched together, trying to gather my courage to call my brother Henry and ask for his help. I could hide out here in the castle for a while longer, but at some point, I need to live.
My phone rings with a call from Aunt Agatha. I snort as I pick it up. “Hello, Aunt.”
“Adam, my dear, what a mess you’ve made.”
If there’s one thing I don’t need, it’s my aunt rubbing my failures in my face. “Thank you for instilling your confidence.”
“Oh, hush, you cheeky boy.”
I chuckle. “Why exactly did you call? Just to chastise me?”
“Of course not. I want to know if you’re going to face your fears or let them rule you.”
I lay back on the sofa, my hand covering my eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. You’re probably lounging somewhere in the castle, whining about your disappointing life and how much you wish you could just ignore the real life going on around you. Well, let me tell you something. No matter how hard you try, you’re going to have to face reality at some point. And that includes that idiot, Trevor Johnson.”
“You mean Tristan Jackson.”
“I don’t care. He’s an idiot and does not deserve a space in my memory bank. I’m getting old, my dear, and I’m selective about what or who earns a spot in my mind. And that boy does not earn anything from me. Not after what he did to Lily and what he’s doing to you, too.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me, Aunt, but he’s right.”
She titters a high-pitched laugh. “He’s RIGHT? About you? Nonsense.”
“It’s true,” I insist. “I’m selfish, hot-headed?—”
“Now, is that what that beautiful brunette would say about you?”
“I—” I swallow hard. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, I do. She would say that you’re wrong. In fact, she has said that to you, hasn’t she?”
My silence is enough of an answer for her.
“You can’t hide anymore. Enough is enough. Be a man and face the situation. Take Trevor down.”
I snort a laugh. “I’ll think about it.” But I won’t. I already know that I’m done trying.
“All right. Now that I’ve said my piece, I’ll tell you about my book club.” She prattles on for another ten minutes about her latest read, a pirate romance, which explains the eyepatch she wore last week.
We hang up, and I can’t bring myself to sit and watch the movie anymore. I rest back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling.
My phone buzzes with a text message. It’s from an unknown number. I open the message and my stomach sinks.
Unknown number
Your days in Hollywood are over. If you try to stop me, I’ll come for Lily.
There’s no question who that is. With a panic, I dial Lily’s number. Has he already gotten to her? Is she all right?
The video call rings a few times, and then she picks up, her smile lighting my whole screen. I can finally breathe. “Hey Adam! What’s up?”
“Are you all right?” The words rush out of my mouth.
She furrows her brow. “I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been contacted by Tristan?”
Her head rears back. “No. Of course not. I don’t even have access to anyone besides family. Dad finally gave me some limited Internet access, so I got to see everyone lose their minds over seeing you again.” She tilts her head. “Is everything okay?”
Do I tell her about the text? No. I don’t want to worry her. “Everything’s fine. I shouldn’t have called.”
“No,” she says quickly. “I’m glad you did.” She brushes a piece of her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. “You need a plan.”
“A plan?” I scoff. “My plan is to find a new career.”
“You can’t hide forever! And you can’t let him win!”
“You sound like Agatha,” I mutter.
“I’m serious, Adam.” She bites a nail for a moment, and I can tell she’s contemplating her next words. I give her the time she needs to gather her thoughts.
“I’m angry, Adam.” she says, her cheeks turning pink. “I know you still see me as the little girl who got lost in the woods, and yes, I made some mistakes last year. But I’m not heartbroken anymore. In fact, I’m not broken at all. I’m ANGRY. And Tristan doesn’t deserve to get away with this. ”
She’s right about that. He doesn’t. But it’s not worth the danger of what he could do to her again.
“You need to say something,” Lily continues. “You can tell everyone what happened with me, and?—”
“No.” I need to shut that line of thought down before she gets too far. “I would never compromise you like that. Besides, it’s in the contract.”
Her brows furrow. “But this is defamation of character. Surely you can breach the contract.”
“I refuse to risk it. You don’t need that kind of stress, anyway. If any word came out about your relationship with Tristan, the paparazzi would be all over you. Tristan would…” I cut myself off before saying that he would somehow try to get back at her. “You wouldn’t be able to leave your home.”
“I already don’t leave,” she says, anger lacing her words. “I’m not allowed to. Because you all think I’m a child.”
“That’s not…I don’t think you’re a child,” I say gently. “Father just wants to make sure you don’t have another situation like you did with Tristan.”
“And keeping me locked up is the solution?”
“No, of course not.” This conversation is going off the rails, and I need to get it back on track. “Look, I’ll talk to Father again. You’re right. It’s been long enough that you’ve been cooped up there, and it’s not like you’re doing anything reckless.”
“And you’ll find some way to get back at Tristan?”
“I’ll think about it.” Sure, I’ll get back at him, if hiding out here in the castle counts. I don’t want to end our conversation this way, though. “How has piano practice been?”
“Good. I’m working on a few Debussy pieces now.”
“I thought you already played those?”
She nods. “I’ve been playing Clair de Lune for years. But I never attempted Reverie. It’s not too difficult, but it’s so dreamy.” She raises her brows at me. “Maybe if you convince Father to let me out of here, I can finally perform again.”
“Don’t push it,” I say teasingly. “Why don’t you perform for me right now?”
“Okay!” She hops up and sets her phone down on the fireplace mantle, positioning it so I can see her at the grand piano. I remember when she was four years old and learning to play on that same exact piano, her feet dangling from the bench as she played and sang a little song about a robot.
But she’s not that little four-year-old anymore. Her blonde hair has grown with her, and her arms and legs have lengthened but don’t look as knobby as before. She sits at the piano, gracefully brushing her hair behind her shoulders, and she inhales as she sets her fingers on the keys. Her left hand plays a few notes, and as the right hand joins in, it truly does sound like a dream.
My heart twists as I listen and watch her. She has a special gift, healing others with the power of music. It’s a gift that deserves to be shared with the world, and it was supposed to be, before Tristan took that away from her.
The music is supposed to feel like a dream, relaxing me, but instead, I feel angry. Angry at Tristan for what he stole from Lily—her guaranteed future as a concert pianist.
Her freedom to fall in love.
Her innocence.
Her love of life.
And then I think about what he’s taken from me:
My career.
My confidence as a man.
And, worst of all, my relationship with Isabelle.
But I’m so tired. I’m so tired of fighting Tristan and losing. I don’t know if I can find the strength to try again, especially if it means that he’ll come after Lily. I failed to keep her safe once, and I’ll never make that mistake again.