28
Iam more than ready to admit everything.
More than ready to gather Ambrose into my arms to keep her there forever.
It doesn’t matter that no one finds comfort in darkness; I know my emerald will.
I walk into the office and notice that Ambrose’s desk is empty. A frown makes its way onto my face as I enter my office, only to stop short when I see her on her way out.
She looks at me, then her eyes dart away and she walks past me like nothing has ever happened between us. Her strong perfume was a reminder of last night. It’s stronger at the junction of her neck, where I’d pressed my face, breathing her in, unable to entirely get my fill.
My hands twitch at my sides, wanting to grab her and place her on the desk in front of me.
The soft click of the door shutting fills the silence, and my eyes find my coffee on the table next to a pile of folders. They should contain the pictures of models for the next volume. I will have to approve them for the marketing team.
We need to be there on set tomorrow.
Why does the silence in my office bother me right now?
The light outside on my left shifts my attention.
London’s skyline is clear as the clouds make way for the sun, slowly swimming away while a beautiful day rises for the people of London.
And yet, something is wrong. Something doesn’t feel right.
My shoes click on the floor as I walk over to grab the folder with the models, then I walk back out to find Ambrose sticking up papers on her board, a pencil in her mouth, frowning before changing the papers.
My eyes catch onto what she is doing, and I realise she is piecing together drafts of how she wants a specific spread to look like. I gave her this task because one thing I cannot ignore is how good Ambrose is at her work.
My heart stammers inside of me, yesterday flashing on repeat.
She’s wearing a white flowy shirt, a matching flowy skirt that reaches her knees, black tights, and heels.
“Ambrose,” I call out, holding the list of models in my hand.
She turns her head, flicking her hair off her shoulder, and in that one swift movement, the softness that wraps around her face almost has me stepping back.
“This list? I don’t like it. Research some other models and get them for me.” I throw the file on her table, then turn and stride back to my desk, feeling her eyes on me the whole way.
Two hours later, she knocks on my door and enters the office. My eyes instantly find hers once more. They are drawn to her like good is to bad.
“The new list. The marketing team approved it.”
She places a file on my desk, her eyes careful, and that’s when my eyes fall on her neck. The white silk scarf wrapped around her neck makes me smirk.
I open the file and see the models, but the thing is, I liked the first ones fine. I don’t care who they are so long as they fit within the theme of the newest volume of the magazine.
“No.”
Ambrose frowns. “Why? I think they are fine. They fit with the fitness theme of the month. They are influencers, and—”
“Didn’t I say no? Do you know better or me?”
She clamps her mouth shut, her eyes narrowing. “Well, I am here to tell you that you are being unreasonable. Those are the best choices.”
I lean back in my seat.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You know I’m right.” Her frown deepens, and she crosses her arms.
I lift a brow, amused by her offended tone.
“I didn’t say anything.” I shrug, making her scoff.
Before she can say anything, someone walks into the office. Unannounced. Without knocking.
“Helia, here you are. I went to your house, and you weren’t there. Remo said that—” Venezia stops short once she notices Ambrose standing there too.
Her long brown hair is braided, and she’s wearing brown trousers with a fitted black long-sleeved shirt. Her chocolate eyes flicker between us. From Ambrose, who is ready to fight me, to me, sitting here, nonchalant.
“I’m sorry. I should have knocked. The receptionist let me in,” Venezia says.
I frown. “I never approved you to come in whenever you like.”
She shrugs, and I know Remo did it.
“Remo insisted on giving you these files and says to be prepared. He wouldn’t email because he wanted it to be special.” She shrugs again, as if really not knowing what she is here to give me.
She hands it over to Ambrose, then turns around and leaves.
“She didn’t have an appointment, but I guess being Remo’s sister has its perks,” Ambrose mutters, looking down at the file.
She doesn’t open it as I expect her to; instead, she hands it over to me and then turns to walk away.
“I didn’t say you could leave.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “You didn’t say I can’t either.” Then she leaves. The door shuts behind her, and I let out a small laugh.
I leave the file to one side and open the rest of the work I have piled up, looking through documents.
Someone walks in through the door, and I sigh, slamming my hand on the table.
“Who the fuck keeps letting everyone in?” I raise my head, then sigh even louder.
“Tell me why you keep showing up? Your sister and now you? Give me a break. If Aurora wants to invite me to another dinner, or if you want my help with getting a different therapist who will agree to your terms, then come another time.”
Remo raises a brow, then sits down in front of me, his eyes slowly looking over the office. I changed nothing, knowing I will leave soon. London was never my home. I thought it never would be, but that thought is changing now.
“It’s been more than a couple of months now.”
I know what he is about to say next.
“I guess I need to deal with it this time, huh? Can’t run away to Mexico, Spain, or even Tokyo?”
Remo doesn’t look amused. His face relaxed, bored.
A man like him, a man with such power? No one can ever harm him.
Me? I’m the one living in the shadows; the one who does his dirty work.
Once caught, I won’t be able to turn back.
“Did you read the papers I sent you?”
“No.”
A moment of silence follows.
“You left many bodies behind, Helia.”
The realisation makes its way into me, and my hold on the arm of the chair tightens, my knuckles turning white with the force.
The bodies of people who touched Ambrose wrong: in the past, in the few months I have known her, anyone her mother may have considered worthy to marry her to. I did so without thinking then, not realising something was about to overtake me. That was the effect Ambrose had on me.
A crushing, maddening effect.
“Were they all truly for her? I thought you hated her? What do you see in her? I don’t even know…”
His words weave around my chest and slowly sink in. I let my head drop back, exhaling loudly.
“She is the one who allowed Aurora to get kidnapped. She is the one who allowed Aurora to almost get killed, bringing her to the point of suicide. If it weren’t for sheer luck on her part, Aurora wouldn’t be here.” His voice hardens, his hate for Ambrose taking over. “Did you tell her you know? That you know everything because of a simple background check? The day Aurora told me, I was about to kill her. I would have if Aurora hadn’t stopped me.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth, clenching my jaw.
I should hate her. I should.
Why the fuck am I thinking about smashing in Remo’s face for speaking about Ambrose like this?
“You’ve been watching her more than you needed to. You hired her, and I didn’t say anything. You killed for her, and I still covered you. But now? You need to let her go. You need to—”
“No.”
Remo slowly turns his head, looking right at me.
“Just because I warned Aurora about you doesn’t mean you should do the same to me. Give it your best, Remo. I will not do what you just said.” I get up and turn away from him, looking out at the city.
I know what he is doing.
He’s striking back since he almost lost Aurora because of me.
How was I supposed to know that he was falling for her?
She seemed sweet to me, a small piece of the puzzle that fell in between our plans.
I warned her while I could, but Remo didn’t like that at all.
I’ll tell Ambrose tomorrow that I know of her past, but I’m not letting her go. If anything, I am holding on tighter, knowing something is brimming and Remo will not back down.
“You asked me if it’s possible to leave dead bodies behind for someone. Do you remember my answer?” Remo asks.
My shoulders tighten.
I asked him that when I saw him kill for Aurora after a decade of staying clean.
“I said yes.”
That’s when it dawns on me why he is telling me this. He wants me to acknowledge what I feel for Ambrose.
It cannot be what he feels for Aurora.
That’s love.
What he has with Aurora is love.
What I have with Ambrose?
That’s hate.
Right?
That’s why I’m killing so many people for her… Right?