Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
PRIEST
T he wound in my chest—invisible to outsiders—bled with each passing day, festering without my wife in my life.
I couldn’t come to terms that she left me. Refused to talk to me. Refused to see me.
But as Dr. Freud talked and I went through the motions of pretending to listen, I decided my wife was mine. She couldn’t fucking leave me. We’d spoken vows in front of God. Church. Family and friends.
There was no fucking way we’d spend our lives apart.
I was done giving her space.
I’d been going through this for weeks, trying to time it perfectly. How long did a woman take to cool off?
Maybe I could ask Wynter? No, she and Ivy were too close.
“Are you listening to me, Christian?” Dr. Freud’s voice pulled me back from my latest silent rant.
I locked eyes with the young doctor and nodded my head, although I’d bet a pretty penny she didn’t believe me. I’d lost count of how many appointments I’d sat through. And while I hated group sessions, I detested one-on-ones because there was no escaping her keen eye.
“How long does it take a woman to come to her senses?” I asked, figuring I had nothing to lose. At least this woman didn’t know Ivy and couldn’t run to her and blab.
Dr. Freud smiled. “Ah, your wife.”
I kept my face expressionless. “It was a general question.”
I was tempted to applaud her for keeping a straight face. “Well, Christian. It depends on what happened.”
I just shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
Her gaze met mine, her eyes narrowed and lips slightly pursed as if contemplating how to get me to divulge my secrets.
“Tell me how long you’ve been married,” she finally said, pulling the charm on her necklace back and forth. It was her only tell.
I sat back, eyeing her warily.
“That’s an interesting piece,” I stated calmly, tilting my chin toward her charm. “Want to know what it is?”
Hesitation flickered across her expression, but she inhaled a breath and took the bait. “Yes.”
“Marabella Mobster arrangements. It’s an auction of human flesh.” Conflict danced in her eyes before she masked it. “Girls and women sold off to criminals all around the world.”
She stared at the file in her lap, the charm on her necklace tugged on back and forth, back and forth. She swallowed and after several heartbeats looked up.
“Ask,” I said.
She dropped the necklace and her hand went to her thighs, and I watched her knuckles turn white from the force of her grip.
“Does your family participate in that kind of thing?”
“No.”
“Do you know a family that does?”
I ran a thumb across my bottom lip. “I know of them.”
She accepted my answer and continued her probing. Maybe I should charge her for this session. “Do you have their last names?”
“You shouldn’t go looking for those answers, Doctor.” I held her gaze, watching emotions pass across it. She realized she’d dug deeper than she should’ve. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I looked at the clock.
Standing, I buttoned my jacket and headed to the door.
“Not knowing is worse,” she said, jumping to her feet, her hand loose by her side while her eyes burned with desperation.
I paused with one hand on the doorknob and glanced back at her. “You won’t find what you’re looking for. You’ll only get yourself killed.”
Thirty minutes later, I ran into my papà and Aisling in the office of the club I named after my wife, The Angel. They had yet to visit, but it surprised me to see them here today of all days.
“Shouldn’t you two be in Chicago? Or New York?” I raised my brow.
“Your mother wanted to see how you were after your… session,” Papà stated, slightly uncomfortable. “Just in case you needed us.”
A sardonic feeling pulled in my chest. We’d been on slightly better but not quite caring terms.
“As you can see, Aisling, I made it out alive.”
Papà’s phone rang and he let out a string of curses, darting a look to his wife who assured him wordlessly that she’d be okay.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured, kissing her on the cheek and then disappearing.
Aisling and I remained quiet. She held her head high but clutched her pearls, betraying her nervousness. She was desperate to start anew but also scared of learning about the dark shit that occurred over the past twenty-seven years of my life.
She continued pulling at her necklace, the tic reminding me of Dr. Freud.
And then I remembered the question. “Aisling?” A glimmer of hope flared in her eyes. “How long might a woman hold a grudge?”
Her delicate brows furrowed.
“Are we talking about your wife’s grudge?” The woman was too perceptive. I nodded. “Have you apologized?”
“Of course,” I answered quickly, then immediately frowned. Didn’t I?
“Then depending on the woman, I’d say a few months. Three, to be safe.” My self-doubt was immediately forgotten, and I straightened up. “Why do you ask?”
Because I’m going to kidnap my wife. Again.
I went to turn around but Aisling sidestepped me, something she saw on my face alarming her.
“Why, Christian?” she demanded to know.
I shrugged. “No reason.”
She shook her head frantically.
“Oh my God. You’re planning on doing it again.” It wasn’t even a question. Damn it, I should have never asked her. I stepped forward, but to her credit, she didn’t cower. “Aren’t you, Christian?”
“I’ll give her a bit more time,” I said slowly. “But you won’t say anything to anyone.”
She sighed tiredly. “I won’t, but I really think you should?—”
“I’ll handle my wife,” I cut her off.
The next time I tried to leave, she didn’t stop me.
Ivy
I glanced out the jet’s window as it landed on the tarmac of a small private airport in Lisbon.
My stomach was in knots as various scenarios played in my mind. I was about to meet my sister, courtesy of Alexei Nikolaev’s coordination with Kingston Ashford. Our last encounter didn’t exactly go peachy, so I could only hope for improvements.
Meanwhile, one feeling superseded all others. Fear.
I was scared that she’d hate me and I’d lose my chance at having a sister. It was ridiculous to fear losing a sister I’d never met, but fear wasn’t supposed to be rational. Plus, there were the rumors of Louisa’s ruthlessness.
“Juliette will be here,” Caelan warned under his breath. “Are you up for it?”
It was Alexei’s condition for arranging a meeting with my sister. Apparently the man decided to become a mediator or some shit like that.
Fury savaged my insides, blazing along the familiar path at the mention of Juliette, obliterating everything else until I was scorched earth, incapable of harboring any other emotion.
My therapist told me I had to learn to let go and stop expecting others to handle their emotions and actions the way I would. It wasn’t so much the control I wanted, but I’d settle for less lies and deception.
“Ivy?” Caelan’s voice pulled me back. “You’re not going to start beating her again, are you?”
I brushed off the idea, no matter how tempting, and smiled.
“Please.” I waved my hand casually. “My yearly quota of beatdowns has been met,” I said breezily.
A smooth smile spread across his face. “I’ll be sure not to get on your list for next year.”
“We’re in Portugal,” Bren announced, getting up off the couch and ending our discussion. Cobra looked up, watching him tensely as usual. “God, this dog is looking at me like she wants to eat me.”
I raised a brow. “Scared?”
“No, but I don’t know why we’re keeping a dog trained by Christian DiLustro,” complained Bren. “I’d stake my life on him having this killer trained to attack us.”
“She’s my dog and she stays with me,” I stated calmly. “And if you come for me, she’ll protect me, regardless of who you are.”
“She shouldn’t attack the family,” Bren grumbled, referring to when he chased me around the house after I threw the last pack of his cigarettes into the fireplace.
“Cobra is a born protector,” Aemon said as he stood up, never looking up from the screen of his phone. “She protects Ivy, and that makes her an excellent bodyguard.”
“I hope she attacks those DiLustros,” Bren muttered under his breath. “I’d give her a steak dinner for a week straight, bone and all.”
“Bribes don’t work on her,” I told him.
“There’s a first time for everything,” he retorted dryly, glancing at Cobra. “Right, girly?”
A black Cadillac waited for us as we exited the plane, along with a driver who looked like he was ex-military.
“Murphy family,” he greeted us. “Welcome to Lisbon. I will take you to your destination.”
I nodded my thanks and he opened the door. Cobra jumped into the back seat without waiting for permission.
Aemon grumbled and I stifled a laugh as I slid in right behind my girl.
“That’s right,” Bren mocked. “In case you missed the memo, we work for the dog. Now drive her around Lisbon.”
“There’s still room for you in the back with us,” I told them, then shot Bren a look. “You, on the other hand, have to get in the front.”
Bren glared at me but got into the front seat without further complaint. We were all tense, not sure what to expect of the upcoming meeting.
As we drove through the busy streets, I sat on the edge of my seat to take in the sights. I’d never been to Lisbon before, and it was a good distraction to the nervous energy pumping through my veins.
A million thoughts ran through my head as we passed the popular tourist sights—Torre de Belém, Torre Paroquial, and Mosteiro dos Jerónimos—before the car came to a stop way too soon.
A familiar figure stood on a lawn, her dark hair blowing in the wind as our eyes locked. Juliette was here. Of course I knew she would be, but I thought I had more time.
The car door opened, and for a moment, I sat frozen, the wicked voice in the back of my mind hissing that I wasn’t ready to face her. As I watched her standing there, her husband’s arm protectively around her, it was a painful reminder that my own chose to protect her too.
Not me, but her.
I tried to reason with myself that after everything Juliette had been through when she learned about her birth parents, their murder, and the abuse she’d endured, she deserved all the happiness and affection.
But envy and bitterness were a dangerous company. They seeped into my bloodstream, poisoning me.
With my brothers’ help and Cobra close at my heel, I exited the vehicle and felt torturously alone despite being in this big city.
I stared at my best friend, tangled in a mess of emotions.
Wynter, Juliette, and Davina had been my family from the moment I stepped foot on the Yale campus. We'd been through so much that letting go was proving to be more difficult than I could’ve ever anticipated.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the phone in my purse started to vibrate and I pulled it out. There were messages from Wynter, Davina, and even Aisling.
Wynter: Just checking in to see if you’re okay. I’m sorry about everything. We love you, Ivy. And miss you so goddamn much.
Davina: No matter what, we love you.
I read Aisling’s message last.
Aisling: I don’t know what happened between you and my son, but I know that you’re healing him and he loves you. Forgetting is impossible, but I’m hoping you’ll find it in your heart to forgive.
I stared at the text and bit back my tears. There was still the bitterness of betrayal, which I doubted would ever fully go away, and the echo of my own shame that I hadn’t been there for her when she discovered my athair played a part in her pain.
I was about to move when I caught a glimpse of the very same woman we ran into amid the debris of Montenegro. Louisa Volkov. She walked out of the house, guided by Kingston Ashford, known as the Ghost, one of the most dangerous men in the underworld. Correction: the most dangerous man.
My brothers tensed but didn’t move as the two of them approached us. Alexei moved like a panther behind them, but stopped next to Juliette and Dante.
I returned my eyes to my sister, studying her, yet the only Murphy genes I could see in her were her eyes. They were a beautiful golden color, speckled with hazel. Very much like my own. Her golden hair, on the other hand, definitely didn’t fit the mold. She had her mother’s hair.
She came to a stop in front of me, several inches taller than me and undoubtedly stronger. She wore white shorts and a green T-shirt with flip-flops, a stark contrast to my yellow dress that barely reached my knees.
We studied each other for several seconds before her eyes darted to my brothers.
She’s sizing us up , I realized. Our strengths. Weaknesses. Fuck, I certainly hoped I didn’t bring my brothers into a spider’s web. Kingston’s dark, blank expression was trained on us, his hand around Louisa’s tense shoulders while he appeared relaxed and stoic, offering his support and comfort.
Kind of like my brothers.
Then I saw the little girl behind Louisa, clutching her arm. It was the girl they rescued from Montenegro several months ago now, and it hit me like lightning.
Louisa was nothing like her mother.
The evidence was right in front of me. She’d taken a vulnerable girl under her wing, and by the looks of it, she’d transformed her into a swan by giving her safety and a home. Unlike Kingston, she fixed me with a half-terrified, half-feral look that told me she’d tear me to pieces–or at least try to—if I so much as hurt her guardian.
“Hi there,” I greeted her softly, extending my hand. “I’m Ivy.”
She eyed my hand and Louisa froze for a moment before giving her an encouraging nudge.
I watched with bated breath as the young girl took my hand. “Lara.”
“Nice to meet you, Lara.” I turned toward my sister. “Ah, thank you for meeting us.” I swept my tongue over my lips nervously. “I… We…”
Fuck, I had the entire speech prepared in my head on the flight over, and now it had completely vanished from my mind.
My eyes met Caelan’s for a fraction of a second and the assurance I saw in his eyes was all I needed.
I took a deep breath and said, “We learned about our connection to you and your twin only recently, and… well, you’re family.” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “If you want to be, that is.”
“And the fact that I’m Sofia Volkov’s daughter doesn’t bother you?” she all but snapped at me.
Bren and Aemon growled, their upper bodies leaning forward, and I pushed them back. “Stop it, you two, or I swear to God, I’m going to?—”
“No, it doesn’t bother us,” Caelan cut me off. “None of us can choose our parents. Besides, a blind man can see you’re not your mother. Just as we are not our father.”
She didn’t show much, but something promising lit up in her eyes.
I took a hesitant step, placing my hand on her forearm, and smiled sadly.
“We all think so, even though Aemon and Bren act all tough. They’re overprotective, so don’t be surprised if they start that macho stuff with you.” I glanced over my shoulder at my brothers who rolled their eyes, but the truth was written all over their faces. “I hope you won’t judge us for Athair’s betrayal.”
Her delicate throat shifted. “I’ll admit, I’m… I was … jealous.” She looked over to Kingston and Lara, her eyes softening. “But now… I have my family.” She turned her attention back to me. “But there’s room for more people in it.”
“I agree,” I rasped, the lump in my throat growing until I thought it’d suffocate me. I blinked rapidly and wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand.
“I’m glad.” Louisa smiled, her expression softening. “Because good friends are just as important as family, and I hear that you’re… or were… very close with Juliette?”
My eyes darted back to where Juliette stood with her husband, her shoulders slumped. I couldn’t comprehend what she had to do with any of this.
“Until I dropped the bomb on you,” she added.
I stiffened. “You only told the truth.”
“Yes, but maybe not the whole truth.”
“Explain, please,” Aemon demanded, very much the head of the Irish mafia in this moment.
Louisa tilted her head, studying him pensively.
“You look like him.” There was no need to ask who him was. Aemon was a spitting image of our athair. “Demanding, never asking.”
It was a harsh accusation, and not entirely incorrect, but she didn’t know him like I did. Aemon was a big teddy bear once you got to know him.
“Not always,” I jumped in, defending him.
She nodded, seemingly accepting my words at face value.
“What I meant is that I should have explained that she killed your… eerrr, our… father—” Her words said more than she realized. She didn’t consider Athair her father, and I couldn’t blame her. “She did it because he arranged the Cullens’ executions. He attempted to burn her birth parents alive. As you know, the Cullen children survived, thanks to Liam Brennan. But if he hadn’t shown up…”
My brothers spat out curses in Gaelic, clearly disturbed with the images Louisa’s words created. I was overwhelmed with it too. My own throat felt tight, clogged with emotions while my stomach roiled. How could Athair ever allow such a thing to happen?
“It doesn’t excuse the lies,” I whispered. I wished Juliette all the best, I really did, but I didn’t know if I’d ever be close with her again. I didn’t know if I had the strength to face the demons she represented.
“It doesn’t,” she agreed. “But we’re all human, and to be human is to make mistakes. And trust me, life’s too short to hold grudges.”
I hesitated. She was right, life was short, and maybe the whole betrayal had more to do with my husband and the fact that he took Juliette’s side over mine.
Or maybe it was my fault as much as hers that it had come to this. I hadn’t given her a proper chance to explain herself, nor did I attempt to explain what I had learned about my athair either.
“Let’s go inside,” Louisa recommended, sliding her hand around my elbow while taking Lara’s hand as we made our way into the charming white-stone house. She flicked a glance over her shoulder to Kingston. “Are you guys coming or are you planning on standing out here all day?”
She didn’t wait for their answer, stopping by Juliette, whose red-rimmed eyes betrayed her state of mind. She looked tired, that usual mischievous, slightly crazy gleam in her eyes gone with her rumpled hair and faint purple smudges beneath her eyes. If her physical appearance was anything to go by, she was just as heartbroken about the state of our friendship as I was.
My steps faltered and we stared at each other, the world stopping in its tracks.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I was an idiot to think my revenge was the most important thing.”
A sob rose in my throat. “Your betrayal hit hard.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, tears streaming down her face. Agony scraped her voice raw, making my own soul bleed. “You’re more important to me than anything else. I’ll do anything?—”
Her voice broke and I sucked in another shallow inhale. “Juliette, I…”
She froze, her breaths heavy with regret.
“If you can’t forgive me, at least forgive him.” I couldn’t breathe. I needed to think. How could I forgive the scars Christian and Juliette caused? There was too much going on. I was here for my sister, not for Juliette and Christian. “I’ll be sorry until the day I die,” she said hoarsely. “For not coming clean. For not choosing our friendship first. For using Christian’s loyalty to his brother to keep a secret from you. You deserved better than that.”
I was slightly overwhelmed with everything, but suddenly my sister’s words filtered in. Life’s too short to hold grudges . I knew Louisa was right. After weeks of emotional turmoil, I was exhausted, and Juliette was right here in front of me, offering an olive branch.
A slightly desperate look in her eyes told me she meant it, begging me to accept her apology.
A small sob rose in my throat and my resolve crumbled. I fell into her arms. We cried, hugging each other while dampness soaked our cheeks.
Things weren’t solved and they might never go back to the way they were, but this step felt like a move in the right direction.