Chapter 47
Chapter
Forty-Seven
MAX
My boots pound the gravel. My heart is a jackhammer, raw fear claws my throat.
Mummy put Aunty Amelia in the lake loops endlessly in my skull.
The moon’s high, silvering the water’s surface, and the swing creaks above it, swaying like a ghost in the breeze.
“Amelia!” I shout, voice hoarse, shattering the quiet, but the lake’s still, mocking me with its silence.
I don’t think, don’t stop, just dive in. The water is icy, slicing through my clothes, my skin like a knife. I don’t really feel it. It’s dark, murky. My hands thrash in the darkness and weeds searching for her.
Amelia, please don’t be here.
I look and look. My lungs burn, but there’s nothing, just silt and cold that drags at my limbs.
I break the surface, gasping, panic like a vise around my chest. I haul myself out, water gushing down my body, my jeans heavy, clinging to my legs.
My eyes dart, frantic, scanning the landscape, the trees, the shadows.
Where is she? Where the fuck is she? A rustle catches my ear, and I spin around.
It’s Tom, the gardener, his straw hat gone, his face pale under the moonlight, his hands muddy and trembling as he approaches me.
“Sir,” he says, voice gruff, stepping closer.
“I got her out. Amelia—she was in the water, barely breathing. I don’t understand what’s happening, but as soon as .
.. the Madam left, I fished her out, did CPR.
She’s alive, but just. I don’t know why Madam would do that, so I didn’t call 911.
I called my brother, and he rushed here immediately and took her to the hospital.
St. Mary’s Hospital. They’ve been gone for about twenty minutes now.
I had to keep it quiet, I’m sorry. I didn’t want Madam to know what I had done. "
My knees nearly buckle with the relief that slams into me like a truck. “She’s… alive?” I choke out, voice cracking, my hands fisting, nails biting my palms.
Tom nods, his eyes steady but grim. “Yes, sir, but she didn’t look good. She was babbling a bit. Someone hit her on the side of the head. You go to her as soon as you can.”
"Of course, yes of course. Thank you.”
I pull out the key to my office and hand it over to him.
“Jason is in my office. Get him out of there and take him home with you. Don’t let Sara know. Try your best to make as little noise as possible. Can you do that?’
“I will, sir,” he replies. “I will do that.”
“Alright. Thank you. You’re a good man, Tom,” I say, and give him the most desperate hug I have ever given anyone in my life.
Afterwards, I don’t waste a single moment.
I run, my boots slipping on the wet grass, back to the house.
I grab my keys from the foyer, the marble cold under my sodden feet, and sprint to the SUV.
The engine roars, the tires screeching as I peel out of the house.
A few minutes later, the city is a blur of neon and headlights. My mind is raging like a demon.
Sara did this.
Sara tried to kill Amelia.
None of this feels real. It feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare, and with each second that passes, I keep willing myself to wake up.
I can’t stop thinking about Sara, her audacity, her madness.
I am in shock that she is even capable of such a thing.
How spectacularly I misjudged her. I curse and swear as I weave through traffic.
My horns are blaring, and I’m sure I’ve been caught by at least a dozen speed cameras, yet every passing second feels like an eternity.
I try to calm myself, but it’s next to impossible.
Eventually St. Mary’s looms, its white walls stark under floodlights.
I swing into a parking spot in a dash, slam the door, and run inside.
The ER’s chaos hits me instantly—beeping monitors, nurses darting, a gurney rattling past. I grab a nurse wearing scrubs.
Her face is tired, and she turns to me without a smile.
“Amelia Fitzwilliam,” I say, my voice rough and desperate. “Where is she?”
"Reception. Ask at Reception," she says, her eyes running down my wet clothes and hurries away.
I calm down enough to rush to Reception. Another bored-looking woman asks me for the information she needs so that she can help me. Eventually, things are cleared up, and I watch as she checks a tablet, her fingers quick.
"She was just admitted. Are you a family member? She’s in the HCU, third floor. She’s stable, but—”
I’m gone before she finishes, taking the stairs two at a time, my wet clothes dripping, leaving a trail.
The HCU ward is quieter. The air is raught with life support machines humming, dimmed lights.
A nurse, gray hair, clipboard in hand, spots me.
“Can I help you, sir? You can’t be wandering around here. It’s not visiting hours."
I pause long enough to explain to her and ask if she is able to help me.
"Are you Ms. Fitzwilliam's husband?
“No.”
“Brother?” she asks suspiciously.
“Yeah,” I pant, chest heaving. For once in my life, I am relieved to be able to say that I am her blood relative. “Is she okay? Can I see her? Please.”
“She’s stable,” she says, flipping a page.
“She’s suffered a concussion- a pretty bad one I must add.
It seems she was hit with a blunt object.
There was a little bit of bleeding. Then there’s the hypothermia from the water.
We’ve treated her, and now we’re monitoring her vitals.
She’s very lucky. Do you know if she fell into the water?
She was too close to drowning. She’s so lucky someone got her out just in time.
She’s sedated right now, but you can sit with her. ”
Relief floods me, shaky, overwhelming, but I’m already moving, following her towards a curtained enclosure. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m feeling all the fear, the shock, the cold in my bones, and it is enough to cripple me.
I take a deep breath as she pulls the curtains apart.
And there she is. The love of my life. Alive. She’s alive. Tears begin to pour down my face. There are tubes in her arm, and her face is so pale she looks like a ghost, but she seems peaceful. My heart lurches. I’d nearly lost her. I nearly lost everything.
Unable to process the enormity of what could have happened if Tom had not come upon the murder scene, I collapse on the chair by her bedside.
For the longest time, I simply gaze at her, thanking God for saving her.
For not taking her away from me. And then I apologize to her because all of this is my fault.
I’ve been so blind. So blind to something that should have been so obvious.
As if Sara would not notice how desperately I craved Amelia.
Any woman would have intuitively known. I reach out and hold her hand.
Her fingers are cool, but she is alive. Thank God, she is alive, and her pulse is steady under my thumb.
“I’m here,” I whisper, my voice raw, leaning close, my forehead brushing her hand. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. I didn’t know… I didn’t know Sara could do something like this.”
My eyes burn as tears slip free and hot against my cheeks. I don’t care who sees, don’t care about the world outside this room.
“I love you. And I’m so sorry. Needless to say, my marriage is over. You’re mine from this moment on in every way. I don’t give a damn if they call us brother and sister. To hell with them, with all of them. You’re my everything, and I’m not losing you again.”
She doesn’t respond, but I have no intention of moving. Not till she opens her eyes and I confirm that she is alright.
Hours pass, the clock ticks its way into two o’clock in the morning. My body aches, but I don’t move. I can’t. My hand remains locked in hers.
I close my eyes and pray until a soft stir pulls my eyes open.
Scared out of my mind, I watch her lids flutter.
And then her eyes find mine. She widens her eyes as if she can’t focus properly.
It takes a while for her to register my face, and then when she does, a weak smile curves her lips.
My chest cracks open, joy and relief spilling out.
“Max,” she murmurs, her voice faint, scratchy, but it is hers. She is freaking alive. “You’re here.”
“Always,” I say, squeezing her hand, my voice thick. “Always, Amelia. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you, Amelia. I love you, sweetheart."
Her smile widens, faint but radiant. She shifts and winces. Her fingers tighten in mine. “Why are you apologizing? It wasn’t your fault."
"It was," I argue, but I don’t want to stress her out, so I resolve to not say anymore.
"Max,” she says, her voice stronger now, “Sara..."
"Yeah, I know," I say. "I can’t believe it either. She’s gone insane, but don’t worry.
She won’t get away with it. I swear it. I will make her pay.
And ... Amelia, for the record, I don’t care what anyone says.
I don’t care what they think. I never want to live a single day away from you after today.
I don’t care if you’re my half-sister. All that matters is you are mine.
That I am with you, that I fall asleep with you, and wake up to you.
I know now that for you, I’d burn down to ashes everything I’ve built—my company, my name, everything.
No one’s tearing us apart again. I swear.
Please accept this promise. Please accept me. "
Tears fill her eyes. "Max," she says. "There’s something I must tell you."
"Tell me what?” I ask, my nerves in a knot.
"I'm so sorry I didn’t tell you before, but we’re not brother and sister. Dad lied. He told me before he died that he made it up to keep us apart. You’re not my brother. You never were.”
The words hit me like a shockwave. I stare at her in disbelief, my breath stopping. “What?” I choke out, leaning closer, searching her eyes. “What? What are you- What? We're not related?"
She nods.
I can’t believe it. “You’re serious?" My heart wrenches with shock, astonishment, and wild joy. "Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her gaze softens, tears glistening. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to ruin your life, I didn’t want to ruin your family. Jason… Sara. But now, there’s no reason to hold back anymore. Sara… I can’t believe who she is. Not just what she did to me but with Jason.”
My blood runs cold, then boils.
“Max, she’s been hurting him. I thought she was just strict, but I think she’s borderline cruel to him.
So much that it makes him… she even makes him lie for her.
She scares him into silence. That’s why he’s so quiet around her, so withdrawn.
She actually forced him to take the blame for ruining my painting, and that’s why I went to confront her. ”
I stare at her in astonishment and confusion. “Your painting is ruined?”
“Yes, Sara threw a pot of ink all over it.”
Fury surges, hot and sharp through me, my jaw clenching. “That vindictive bitch. What exactly happened? Tell me. How did things escalate to this level?”
Amelia’s eyes widen, then harden, a flicker of anger matching mine.
“She attacked me in the conservatory. I confronted her about Jason, about the painting, and then she showed me a video of us… in the pool. She planned it, Max, from the very beginning. She set us up to blackmail you. I told her we’re not related, and that she wouldn’t have any power over you, and that’s when she hit me in the head and I fell unconscious. ”
She stops and clutches my hand. “Where is Jason now though? I am worried that she could have done even worse to him."
"It’s okay. Jason is safe. He’s with Tom.
Jason was the one who came to tell me about you being pushed into the lake by Sara.
Tom saved you. It makes sense now why she instantly came to me after doing what she did to you.
Sweetheart, don’t worry. She’s done,” I say, my voice now deadly calm.
“She’s not touching you or Jason ever again. I’ll make sure of it. I swear it."
Amelia’s hand squeezes mine, her eyes fierce and brimming with love.
“Max, I love you. I’ve always loved you, since that summer.
I'm sorry I hesitated. I’m sorry I kept it from you that we're not related. I was just trying to do what I thought was best for you and Jason. I promise you now that no one—no lie, no threat—will keep us apart again. I swear it.”
I lean in, kissing her. I try my best to be soft, but I can’t help the urgency of my mouth. Her lips are warm and taste of whatever meds they pumped into her, and this kills me more.
“I love you, Amelia,” I murmur against her mouth. “No more secrets, no more running. We’re together, forever, and I’ll fight the whole damn world to make it happen.”
She nods, tears spilling, her smile bright despite the big purple bruise forming around her left eye and cheek.
“Forever,” she whispers, her hand cupping my face, her thumb brushing my cheek. “You, me, and Jason. We’ll be a real family. It’s almost surreal and I can hardly believe it."
"Neither can I," I respond.
I kiss her again, deeper, my heart soaring, the weight of years lifting.
The hospital ward fades, the beeping monitors become a distant hum… and it’s just us. Again. Our love empowers me, makes me feel like I have the world in control once again. And now I am ready to fight. To fight to create the home that we both deserve with each other.
I’ll guard with my life this fire that nothing can douse.