Chapter 57
It's odd to be back in a house that was the first place that truly felt like home. My trailer was a war zone—a place I could never relax in. It had my bed and a pillow, even my clothes, but it was not home. Not without Sunshine. Or security. My mother made sure of that with her drug use and letting men in and out.
But this place? The mansion. It’s a home. This place may be filled with possessive idiots who only show love through handcuffs and barely legal contracts, but it's where I first felt safe. Even after they chased me with masks on and fucked me in the mud. I shudder, looking out the window at the trees behind the mansion blowing in the slight wind, signifying the changing seasons. I expect Arrow to be over my shoulder with a grin, asking if I remember when I stabbed him. Or when we jogged through the rain and fell into the mud together.
Much to my disappointment, though—he’s not. He’s nowhere.
And hasn’t been since we returned to the mansion earlier.
The moment we stepped foot onto the property, Arrow withdrew. From me. From Grace. From everyone. His eyes clouded over, turning him into an empty shell. The first moment Grace left us alone, he kissed me and whispered a soft goodbye.
“Be good, Kitten. I’ll be back,” he murmurs against my temple, sucking in a breath.
“Arrow,” I plead, shaking my head when he backs away, exiting the dining room Grace instructed us to stay in, and leaves out the back door.
It feels like a piece of me walked away.
Grace’s guards yell at him to stand down and come back. They raise their guns and fire in his direction multiple times. My heart sinks in my stomach at the sound of the bullets ricocheting in the woods, echoing back in my ears. So much for the safety she promised.
I watch from the kitchen window with a slack jaw and Jericho at my back, pulling me against him.
“He’ll be okay, Little Chaos. He needs time to process what happened at the church.” His father’s death. “He’ll most likely barricade himself in with Max and Nova. They won’t hurt him, but will hurt the guards if they try to enter their domain. He’ll be fine…” he trails off when Arrow’s figure completely disappears through the trees.
“It’s such a long walk to the enclosure,” I gulp, staring into the nothingness of guards chasing after him, weaving through the tall trees until they disappear.
“Arrow knows this property like the back of his hand. He’ll be okay,” Jericho murmurs, kissing my temple. “Why don’t we sit back down?” I want to scoff and pull myself away from him. My eyes stray to the window again, aching to see Arrow with that familiar smile on his face.
But it never happens.
“We play this like you played Shadow. Understood?” Jericho whispers directly in my ear at the sound of high heels tapping against the floor and marching our way angrily. I nod in compliance.
We play the game until we’re free from this hellhole.
It’s only been a few hours since he escaped out the back door. Worry gnaws at me. Is he alive? Dead? Did they fucking catch up to him? God, I hope not. Arrow is…well, Arrow. I know he can survive a lot. I mean, I stabbed him, after all.
But he’s still human. No matter how unstoppable he pretends to be.
“Little Tempest,” Shepp says, drawing my eyes away from the window overlooking the vast property. His large hand engulfs my shoulder, gently squeezing. A heavy sigh rocks through me when my back collides with his front, and he traps me in his warmth. My eyes close. Oh, my silent giant. My rock. He’s always made it his mission to be there for me when I’m spiraling down the drain, even when I wasn’t aware of his presence.
I sink back into him, soaking up his comfort. Despite my mind twirling in the darkness of Arrow’s absence. The barred windows of Jericho’s office block slivers of the scenery below—beautiful gardens, manicured lawns, and the tall forest I want to get lost in. I suddenly miss the sunshine on my flesh and the warmth of the wind whipping through the property.
I’m tired of being a trapped bird caught in a cage of bullshit.
First, my monster. Then Shadow. Now, Grace. It’s a relentless cycle repeating itself.
Eventually, we’ll be free. But that day is not today.
My pity party falls flat when heels click against the floors, coming our way hurriedly.
“Incoming,” Jericho mutters sullenly, stiffening in his chair. His fingers tighten on the glass between his fingers, and the melting ice clinks together as the amber liquid swishes with his jerky movements.
It’s the most uncomfortable I’ve ever witnessed him to be.
We smell her perfume before she enters Jericho’s office, throwing the door open hastily. She grins, lifting her chin as she takes us in with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Oh, Journey! Your doctor's appointment has been set for this week," Grace states with a twisted expression.
An expression that promises nothing good. It sends shivers down my spine. You know, some would say Jericho inherited his ruthlessness from Gabriel. But I’m here to tell you, I fucking disagree. Grace is ten times worse than my monster ever was. Only, she’s subtle. Not as hands-on and more cunning than him. She could look you dead in the eyes and gaslight you into doing as she pleases.
And you’d never know the difference.
"I made sure Doctor Ellis would do an ultrasound so we can see my baby!” She practically squeals again.
I take a deep breath, attempting to wipe the words–my baby—from my mind. I’m here to play a part. I’m a good little captive, unable to stab her in the jugular like I want to do. But every time she refers to my baby as hers–I want to snap at her. She’s obviously got something cooking in her demented mind that involves kidnapping my tiny human and possibly disposing of the mother—AKA—me.
Every time she looks at me with those glossed-over eyes, excited at the prospect of having a child—I want to shrink away and protect the innocent life inside me. My fingers run the length of my flat stomach, catching Grace’s eye. She watches, mesmerized by the movement. Never taking her eyes off me. Fuck. It makes my skin crawl to have her focus all on me. Like I’m some lab rat she can’t wait to dissect.
I shiver at the intensity, flicking my gaze to Jericho, who discreetly shakes his head. ‘Don’t worry, Chaos.’ he mouths so no one else can see but the three of us, leaving Grace out of the equation. Shepp continues to stand stoically at my back.
Jericho clears his throat, drawing Grace’s misted eyes, knocking her from her stupor. "That was awfully nice of you, Mother," Jericho says soothingly, lifting a glass of amber liquid and taking a long drink. "I'm assuming you'll be accompanying us to the viewing?"
Of course, she will. Any time she can, my pregnancy is brought up. She gushes about the baby for hours, promising to be the best grandma on the planet. I call bullshit. She wants to play mommy, but I won’t allow that to happen. I’ll sneak my happy ass out of this mansion and escape. With or without my doting husband.
She lights up. "Of course, I will! I wouldn't miss it." She claps her hands a few times. "Now, if you kids will come downstairs, we've whipped up dinner. You think your friend will want to join?" Her brows furrow, and she stares out the window. No doubt trying to devise a plan to bring him back to the mansion.
Too bad she's failed twice already in the short time we’ve been here and lost guards to the lions' claws and jaws. Idiots. Who marches into a lion's enclosure only armed with a gun? Her guards. I guess they weren’t that smart on the island, either. The more that go to the lions, the better.
"He's mourning, Mother. You had his dad murdered right before his eyes," Jericho says, setting his empty cup down on his desk with a loud thud. "Leave him for now." Jericho stands, rounding his desk until he's in between her and me. “He's where he needs to be. Unless you want blood on your hands?”
She scoffs confidently. “Like one little monster could take down my new headquarters.”
Did she not see the damage he inflicted at the church? She’s down at least seven men because of Arrow alone.
“Headquarters. Right,” Jericho says, placing his hands behind his back. “This?” He raises an eyebrow, looking around the room.
“Yes,” she says, lifting her chin.
Tension leaks off him in waves, filling the room with his festering rage. He's been silently plotting all day, sitting at his desk and drinking without uttering more than a few words to us. Shepp and I have spent our time reading the many books collecting dust on the shelves and attempting to entertain ourselves since our phones, tablets, and any sort of electronics were confiscated.
“I’ll explain more over dinner; it’s ready for us,” she says, escorting us to the dining room without saying another word.
Walking with Grace is like walking toward the guillotine, hanging over our heads and ready to strike. One wrong move and we’re toast. Every step we take within the mansion walls, eyes are on us. Her guards hang in every shadowy corner, eager to kill. Or maim. I’m not quite sure. It’s like the promise of safety she so happily spewed back at the church no longer exists. Grace seems giddy to have Jericho back in her life. As for me? I’m pretty sure I’m an incubator and nothing more. Shepp and Arrow? Dispensable. They’re only here because they haven’t fucked up enough to be murdered.
Such a comforting thought.
As we take our seats around the table, the tension only amplifies. I swear my fucking chest is about to cave in and shrivel my heart. I shift in my chair, attempting to get comfortable despite the uneasiness.
My darkness looms in the back of my mind, eager to eat away at all my feelings and make me numb. But I don’t let it. Not today. I need to be on my toes around Grace. Not an emotionless robot.
People bustle into the room, carrying trays of food before sitting them in front of us. Reminding me of the island hell Shepp and I went through. My gaze connects with his from across the table. His lips roll in.
"I'm curious, Mother. How did you become Shadow?" Jericho doesn't bother stalling to eat the food presented to him, shoving in several small bites while keeping his eyes locked on the woman sitting there.
"Many moons ago, Thomas Mondelli and I were madly in love," she says dreamily with a sigh. "Then Gabriel ruined our future union, forcing me into this marriage." She practically snarls at the thought of marrying Gabriel. I don't blame her. He was a monster of epic proportions, doing anything to get what he wanted. “The only good thing it gave me was you. Even if your birth was forced upon me.” Disdain sits in her eyes when she glares at him.
Jericho’s body stiffens, but he quickly lets it go. “Of course.” He doesn’t say anything else to the woman who birthed him. He shoves food between his lips and hums at the taste.
"And when Thomas came back?" I ask quietly, earning her sparkling gaze, which lights up further at the sound of his name.
She doesn't grin like I expect her to. Or give me heart eyes like I thought she would. No. Grace stiffens, licking her lips. "Well, if you must know. Thomas and I had been secretly seeing each other for years. He was the only one to know where I had gone. Then, we became Shadow together.” The way she spits each word out infused in her anger, makes me wonder why she struck up an arrangement with him in the first place.
"You wrote him letters," Shepp rasps, slowly eating his food with apprehension.
We saw what Shadow did to people he didn't like. He poisoned them. Just like we suspect Grace did with Gabriel. Like Thomas did with Naum; poison is their M.O. I can only hope they won't do that to us. Grace has prattled on about our new jobs in her organization. Jericho is going to be the face of it like Thomas was. Her son. Her pride and joy. She wants to use his cunning nature to lure the family into her organization. As of now, the Viotto Crime Family has been eradicated in Briar Cove.
Shadow rules it all.
"For years after I left," she confirms with a nod. "I wrote to him when he was gone. He visited me and kept me company as I built our new home and helped build an army. That's the thing about men. They don't like to take orders from someone like me."
"A woman," I whisper with furrowed brows. "So, you..."
"Created a new entity, and he helped me build an army of people who could take down this," Grace says, gesturing to the mansion around us. "That's what Jericho will do for me now. And if not..." she trails off, sending each of us a warning glance.
If we don't follow what she says, she'll murder us all without a second glance, even though she needs us.
"We understand, Mother," Jericho says, sipping the glass of red wine. "We'll freely help you establish yourself in town."
"I already have," she says smugly. "Your father so generously welcomed me back with open arms."
And what a moron move that was. My fucking monster was so intelligent in so many ways, but the moment his missing wife came back into the picture, he didn’t have a suspicious bone in his body. Maybe his obsession ran so deep that the red flags flying in his face weren’t warning enough.
A server walks by, refilling her wine glass, and does the same to everyone but me. I look at my water with a sigh. Oh, how I'll miss drinking and eating whatever the hell I want. Like more than water. But according to Grace, I'm not fucking allowed. No soda. No juice. Just fucking water. I want some root beer or Sprite to settle my stomach. Is that too much to ask? Apparently. Ugh. At least I’m keeping food down a little better right now.
"And what did he give you?" Jericho asks, taking another bite of his food.
"Everything," she says with a shrug. "I vowed I would return and wreck everything your father built when I left. Nothing is in his name anymore. The bars. The clubs. The everything. Even this home was signed over to me one night without a fight. All my dreams are coming true, thanks to Gabriel Viotto. He finally gave me what he promised on our wedding day.”
A part of me thinks their love became transactional instead of from the heart. It became about what we can do for each other to get bigger and richer.
"Everything," Jericho says with a nod. "Of course. You wanted revenge on him, for taking away Thomas and giving him to Aurora. Where is she really, by the way?"
Shepp's spine stiffens as he listens in. I’m not sure how he feels about his mother. I haven’t heard much. From what I know and have seen, she was an empty space who didn’t give a rat's ass about Shepp and his safety. If she did, then his tongue would be intact, and his trauma wouldn’t exist.
Grace laughs. "Aurora got what was coming to her. All through high school, she was a fucking pain in my ass, chasing after Thomas like a thirsty whore. So, I gave her the grave she deserved. Let her rot beneath the rubble of the tower." Grace’s expression turns colder and colder, pulling down her features in her rage.
"You had inside help that night? Father made an exchange with Shadow for Journey and her sister in return for you..." Jericho trails off.
"Oh, yes. That was the premise of the deal. Let Gabriel think I've been locked away on his island all this time. We convinced him so thoroughly that he'd do anything to have me back. My torture on video. Shadow taunting me. Gabriel ate the evidence up, and with a flick of our wrists, he scrambled to regain his obsession.”
"So, you manipulated Gabriel into playing right into your plan? Smart,” Jericho quips, taking another bite of his dinner.
Grace grins. "It was the right time. The perfect time. I tried to get there before you were forced into a marriage you didn't want to be in, but..." Her brows furrow.
"I love him," I rush out, blushing instantly.
My eyes stay low as I push around the food I’m desperate to consume. But I can’t bring myself to do it, not in the current atmosphere. Or with my turning stomach that can’t manage to keep anything in it. I’d probably yack on Grace’s favorite rug and earn my death.
Jericho makes a noise in the back of his throat, drawing my gaze to him. His face remains stern and business-like. It’s a facade he presents to the world. Only the twinkling in his eyes lets me know he returns the sentiment. He loves me.
"You were too late, anyway. She is my wife," Jericho says, sitting back in his chair. "And my life." He raises a brow, discreetly threatening her without saying a word.
"Interesting," Grace says, tilting her head. Her lips purse when she shoves a small bite of food through her lips and swallows harshly. “You love her?” She scoffs at that. “Even Thomas didn’t love me enough to keep his dick to himself over the years.” Her gaze instantly drops to her plate, shame coating her reddened face.
Right. Sunshine resulted from him flouncing his dick in every direction when he was supposedly seeing Grace on the weekends. Apparently, she wasn’t enough to hold his interest. Well, not until he died, at least.
Jericho stiffens at her remark, but once again seals his lips. He’s all too aware of what’s at stake here. She could end us with the snap of her fingers. Although, she doesn’t seem too eager to get rid of us. Not yet, at least.
"After dinner, I'm going to take Arrow a plate of food. If he'll eat." Jericho leaves no room for arguments.
“He can rot in that lion’s den, son. If he wanted to survive and eat, then he’d be here. You will go nowhere near that fucking cage!” she sneers, pounding her fist into the wood tabletop. More guards enter the room, holding guns at the ready until she waves them off. “No one leaves this mansion without an escort. He can die where he hides. No matter if he’s mourning the loss of that disgusting priest. You’re lucky I’m letting him live. He’ll come in handy, though. When I drag him out of there.” She rolls her eyes and stands tall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She marches out of the dining room with her chin held high, marching up the stairs and straight into the room she’s been staying in. Her guards aren’t too far behind her, watching her every move like hawks, ready to protect their newly found queen.
Four guards stand tall against the wall of the large dining room, watching as the three of us take tentative bites of our dinner. We don’t utter a word. We can’t. Instead, we sit in silence and soak up our time here until the guards escort us back into our bedroom and lock us inside.
Jer sits on the edge of our bed, stiff as a board, intensifying the anxiety building inside me. Jericho always has a plan. It never fails. He’s the leader of the Devils, after all.
“Any plans?” I whisper, sitting beside him and taking his hand in mine. His fingers curl around mine, holding me like a life raft in a storm on the ocean.
Shepp stands beside us, staring down at Jericho with imploring eyes, begging him to have a solution to all these problems that seem to keep coming.
“You love me?” Jericho rasps, burning me with the intensity of his gaze.
I blink. “Yes,” I whisper. How can he even question that? “I love all of you.”
Jericho squeezes my hand one last time before standing and pacing before us.
“I love you too, Little Tempest,” Shepp murmurs, taking Jericho’s seat. My head falls onto his chest, and he wraps a tight arm around me, pulling me close. “We’ll get out of this.” But I don’t believe it. Not an ounce of his tone indicates he thinks we’ll run away from here unscathed.
My stomach drops into the nothingness, twisting with uncertainty. If we can’t escape this prison, then we’re bound to repeat this until I give birth. Only then will I know my true fate.
“We will,” Jericho says, holding the confidence we don’t feel. “There’s an answer out there. Our allies. Or anyone. We need to get a hold of them.” His hands rest behind his back as he walks the length of the room. Back and forth he goes until he huffs, throwing himself onto the bed beside us. I’ve never seen him look so childlike. “No matter what, I’ll protect all of us.” His hand finds my stomach, stroking it. “All of us.”
His pointed look lets me know he means it, but deep down inside, a helplessness claws at me. We’re trapped in this mansion with eyes on us, locked in a bedroom that we don’t have the key to and barricaded by steel bars on the outside of the windows.
We’re sitting ducks. Once again trapped under the true Shadow’s mercy.
Heaven help us all.