CHAPTER 49
Krusk
Listening to my mate sob on the other end of the phone was the most heartbreaking thing that I’d ever heard. And I could tell that she was fighting the tears. Fighting to keep herself together.
But she didn’t need to be together. I’d always be there to put her pieces back in place.
“We’re going home first,” I told Savla, and my brother just nodded, signaling for a U-turn.
“Is she upset?” he asked, glancing at me.
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut. “I wanted to handle it and then bring the solution to her. So she wouldn’t have to worry about it.”
Savla hummed, increasing his speed. “I know you think that might be best, but that isn’t always the best solution.
She’s been handling everything by herself so far.
I figure she’d at least want to have some say in it.
Especially since it’s about her family.” His shrug belied the fact that he’d just blurted so many words in one go.
I narrowed my eyes at him for a long moment before sighing, scrubbing my palm over my face. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I am?” he asked, glancing from me to the road.
“Shut up, you know you usually are,” I groaned, and ignored his little knowing smile as he continued to drive. “Drive faster, will you?”
He nodded, skidding around a corner, his eyes shining with glee. I’d never fully understand my brother. It was as if he didn’t want to enjoy anything, including life, but then there were moments where the child in him shone bright.
He braked abruptly in front of the building and I slapped him on his shoulder, exiting the car at a run, racing up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. It would take too long and I needed to get to her now.
I slammed the door open and a startled Emma looked up at me from where she was sitting on our sofa. Because it was ours. I was going to find a way to get her to stay with me. This would be our mating home. She belonged here with me.
I moved forward, kneeling in front of her, cupping her wet cheeks. “I’m sorry, Zemar. So sorry.”
She sniffled, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault.
I just...” she gasped, hiccupping. “I can’t believe Grandma’s known this entire time.
She... I didn’t want her to find out.” She reached out to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, sliding from the sofa and pressing herself against me for comfort.
I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her close, being careful with my tiny mate. “I have you, Zemar,” I murmured against her hair.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
“You never have to be,” I told her. “Grandma knew this entire time, but she doesn’t blame you at all. In fact, she loves you so much. Appreciates you so much. And she wanted me to find your uncle and fix it.”
Her sobbing slowed and she rubbed her face against my throat, hot and sticky from crying. “I can’t believe she’s known this entire time.”
I kissed her hair, running my palm down the length. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Zemar.”
“I’m scared to talk to her,” she whispered. “Why didn’t she say anything?”
“She was looking into it. She didn’t want to confront you about it until she had all the facts. That’s where I came in. She thought that if I could get everything figured out, we’d be able to get your house back.” I explained, praying that she’d understand.
“Do you really think the will’s fake?” she asked, pulling away to look at me with wide, innocent eyes.
The fact that her uncle had decided to take advantage of her sweetness and kindness told me exactly what kind of male he was.
“We confirmed it,” I told her, trying to soften the blow. “We went to the court to make sure. It’s definitely a forgery. He hasn’t even been able to get the court to grant the probate because of the signatures.”
She shook her head, pressing her face harder against my chest. “I can’t believe him.”
I held her close, careful but firm, my arms wrapping around her like I could shield her from everything—the lies, the loss, the betrayal. Her shoulders shook against my chest, her face pressed into me, and I could feel every trembling breath like it was my own.
“It’s alright,” I rumbled softly, voice low, meant just for her. “We’ll fix this. I promise. No forged piece of paper’s going to take what’s yours.”
She didn’t answer—just cried harder. Her tears soaked through my shirt, hot against my skin. I didn’t care. I just kept holding her, letting her grief melt into my heartbeat.
Then—suddenly—she stilled.
I froze too, sensing the shift instantly. Her breathing changed. The trembling stopped. And when she finally looked up at me, her eyes weren’t sad anymore—they were furious.
Uh-oh.
Her voice came out tight, dangerous. “You knew, didn’t you?”
I blinked. “What?”
Her tear-streaked face was a mix of heartbreak and fire. “You knew something was off with him! You said it! And you didn’t tell me!”
My lips parted slightly. “I—what? No! I said I didn’t trust him, not that I knew—”
She jabbed a finger at my chest, eyes blazing. “Same thing!”
I leaned back a little, trying to calm her, hands raised. “It’s… not, actually. One’s suspicion, the other’s proof.”
“Oh my Gods, don’t go all legal semantics on me right now!” she snapped, tears sparkling like battle fire.
Savla—who’d come in at some point while my mate had been sobbing—was across the room, pretending very badly to reorganize some papers, smirking into his sleeve. I shot him a glare that said not now.
“I was trying to protect you,” I said carefully, lowering my voice, trying to reach the softer space beneath her anger. “I didn’t want to make you worry until I knew for sure.”
She folded her arms. “Congratulations. You succeeded. I wasn’t worried—I was devastated.”
I winced. “That… sounds worse when you say it out loud.”
“It is worse!”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m new to this whole ‘emotional communication during high-stress probate crises’ thing.”
Her mouth twitched—just barely. The corner of her lip wanted to smile, but she fought it. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is now,” I muttered, moving closer again, softer this time. “Look, I might’ve handled it wrong. I probably did. But I swear, I’ll handle him right.”
Her brows arched. “That sounds vaguely threatening.”
“Good,” I said, flashing a fangy grin. “It’s supposed to.”
That earned me the tiniest laugh—half sigh, half surrender. She shook her head, eyes still wet but softer now. “You’re impossible.”
“Protectively impossible,” I corrected, pulling her gently back into my arms.
She let out a small, exasperated huff, but this time she didn’t pull away. “You’re lucky you’re cute for someone who can be so annoying.”
I rumbled low in my chest, amusement curling through my voice. “You think I’m cute?”
“I said for someone who can be so annoying.”
“Still counts,” I murmured, pressing my chin lightly against her hair. “And for the record, I’d rather have you mad at me than broken. Anger, I can handle.”
Savla muttered from the corner, “Yeah, tell that to your face while she yelled at you.”
I glared over her shoulder. “Not helping.”
She laughed then—finally, properly—and the sound filled the whole room, chasing away the heavy silence. And for the first time that day, I felt safe in the knowledge that I would be truly helping my mate.
I looked up at the house that my mate had grown up in, impressed by the sheer size of it. Her father had truly done well for himself and I could see why his slimy brother would want to get his hands on the wealth.
It didn’t mean I was going to let any of that happen, but I could still see the draw. I looked over at where my Emma sat in the passenger seat, glaring at the front door.
“I still have a key,” she told me, lifting it from her lap, where she’d been holding it. It dangled from a keychain that had a picture on it. It was one I’d seen before. One that she’d been so proud to show me.
It was a picture of her father with his arms wrapped around his wife, who was holding a baby Emma in her arms. It was beautiful. And from the smiles on their faces, I knew that they’d been happy when they’d been together.
My chest hurt thinking about the fact that this family had been lost to her.
“I want to tell you something else,” I admitted to her, and her eyes moved from where they’d been looking past me to her house, to meet my gaze.
“Grandma thinks that your uncle might have been involved with your father’s death,” I said in a rush, wanting to yank the bandage off as fast as I could.
The stillness in her reminded me of that moment in the apartment when she’d completely lost her cool. “What?” she demanded, reaching out to grip my shirt in her fist and yank me forward. I didn’t budge, but she gave it a good try.
I saw Savla lean forward from the backseat, his chin resting on his fist. I was tempted to throw him a rude gesture, but I didn’t want to make Emma feel like I was detracting from the serious message I had for her.
I nodded, but instead of getting angry at me, she turned blazing eyes toward the house. “Let’s go,” she said, opening the door and scuttling out. It was much less graceful because of how high up she was from the ground.