Chapter 22 Roman #2
She wrung her hands together, the nervous gesture contrasting with the passionate frenzy we’d shared moments before.
Montego merely chuckled, waving a dismissive hand.
“No need to apologize.” A wistful smile tugged at his lined face, and his gaze turned distant, lost in the embers of a memory long past. “I, too, knew youthful love once. My fingertips still recall the softness of her skin… my lips remember her kiss, her taste. The passion of our connection was undeniable.”
I studied him, sensing sorrow beneath his words. “What happened to her?”
Montego merely shook his head, silently turning back to his news sheet.
Olivia and I exchanged a glance—a silent understanding passing between us.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Olivia said at last, reaching out to him.
Montego hesitated only briefly before clasping her hands in his. His eyes moistened, grief flickering in their depths. “Thank you, my dear,” he murmured. “My beautiful wife passed away long ago, yet a part of me has never let her go.”
Olivia’s grip on his hands tightened as if willing her strength into him before pulling away, settling back against me.
She took a deep breath, then spoke quietly, but with a pain that felt like an open wound.
“I lost my unborn child a few months ago.”
The air in the carriage grew still.
“The grief…” Olivia exhaled shakily. “It floods over me every time something horrible happens, like tonight. It drags me under, no matter how hard I fight it. Roman and I were apart for too long. Each day without him felt like an eternity in hell.”
Her words settled between us, heavy and inescapable.
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, it felt as if we were suspended in time, just the two of us, bound by a love that had survived separation, tragedy, and the unrelenting grip of loss.
I reached for her, my fingers lacing tightly around hers. “I cannot begin to fathom the sorrow you must feel, my love.”
“Tragic,” Count Montego murmured, shaking his head. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
The carriage rocked gently, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the silence between us. None of us spoke, each lost in our thoughts of ghosts.
Finally, the count cleared his throat. “I assume you’ll be coming home with me?”
His generosity sometimes overwhelmed me, and this moment was no exception.
“Oh, no, Count Montego,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Besides, I must find Malik. That’s where you’re staying, isn’t it, my love?”
I turned to Olivia, my expression softening as I took in her delicate features, the remaining sadness in her eyes.
Montego scoffed. “Nonsense! I insist that you stay with me!”
Olivia and I exchanged a glance, silently debating our next move.
I turned back to the count. “I need to speak with Malik.”
Montego waved a dismissive hand. “Very well. I shall escort you there; you can talk, and then you will join me at my home.” He beamed as if the matter had already been decided, then lifted his news sheet again, utterly content with his own decree.
Olivia sighed softly, shrugging slightly as she leaned into me. Then, in a whisper only I could hear, she asked, “What do you think will happen to Tristan?”
I exhaled, my grip on her tightening. “Who can say? His father is a madman.”
The wagon lurched, hitting another rough patch of road, and we both bounced on the seat.
Olivia let out a startled laugh, pressing a hand against my chest to steady herself. Then, she whispered conspiratorially, “You know, in the movies in my time, this always looks so smooth—traveling by carriage or wagon. But in truth, it’s a bumpy ride.”
A chuckle rumbled in my chest as I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Welcome to reality, amore mio.”
I snorted, my gaze flicking toward Count Montego to see if he was paying us any mind.
He appeared absorbed in his news sheet, so I said, “I got to ride in one of your automobiles. I rode in your Jeep. It was very smooth.”
A wistful expression crossed Olivia’s face. “Oh, my Jeep! I loved that car.”
“I want to get a motorcycle,” I said.
Olivia laughed, shaking her head. “Of course you do! A badass bike for my badass husband.”
Then, just as quickly, her amusement faded. A shadow crossed her features. “I still can’t believe I fell for the son of my worst enemy.” She sounded bitter. “It makes me feel dirty to have been intimate with him.”
Jealousy shot up my spine, my fingers twitching with the urge to claim her right then and there, to erase any trace of him from her body, her mind, and her soul.
“That’s not an image I cherish, either,” I said, my voice turning cold.
The heat in my blood rose as I growled, “I’d rather not discuss Balthazar or his evil spawn.”
A rustle of paper.
The count lowered his news sheet, his eyes sharp with sudden interest. “Did you say the name Balthazar?”
“Yes,” Olivia said, glancing at me. “Do you know him?”
Montego visibly shuddered, the color draining from his face.
“Do I?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “He’s known as the Monster of Darkness.” His voice dropped lower. “Was he at the party?”
I frowned. “You mean you didn’t see him? He yelled at Costa.” I narrowed my eyes. “At the show.”
Montego sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’ve seen that performance too many times. I was… otherwise engaged.” His lips curled into a smirk. “With a few lovely women.”
I rolled my eyes.
Olivia, however, frowned. “I thought everyone was required to attend that spectacle. One of the guards forced us to watch.”
Montego waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, they try to enforce it, but we old-timers can get away with bending the rules.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “I’ve been coming here for a long time.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
“How do you know Balthazar?” I asked, my voice carefully controlled.
Montego exhaled, his expression darkening.
“He lives around here. He’s been traveling a lot, or so I’ve heard.
But if he’s back…” He shook his head. “Something’s afoot.
He brings trouble wherever he goes.” A shadow flickered across the count’s face.
“He changed after Alina died. He was never the same.”
Olivia’s fingers tightened around mine. “You met Alina?”
Montego nodded solemnly. “Yes, poor girl. She was all caught up with Balthazar, and everyone knew he wasn’t good for her.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“What do you know about her death?” Olivia pressed.
Montego sighed. “Only what the gossip mongers whispered in town. She died a tragic death. And, as I said, Balthazar fell into despair. I never understood their relationship. She was such a bright, free spirit… and Balthazar?” He let out a short, dry laugh. “He was nothing but a wind-sucker.”
Olivia’s brows lifted. “A what?”
Montego smirked. “A jealous cad. He practically kept her under lock and key. But such beauty… such light cannot be captured.” He tilted his head, studying Olivia with newfound curiosity. “You resemble her, you know. You carry that same ephemeral beauty that she possessed.”
Olivia held his gaze but offered nothing but a polite, “Thank you, Count.”
Montego shifted. Then, in a lighter tone, he asked, “So… what kept you two apart for so long?”
“Our travels,” I said, glancing out the window at the endless sea of stars floating in the heavens.
“Yes, Roman and I had to part for a time,” Olivia added, her voice softer, as if the memory of our separation still carried its ache.
Montego nodded, then turned his keen gaze toward Olivia. “And where did you return from, my dear?”
“I was staying east of here,” Olivia said, her tone measured, keeping her answer intentionally vague. “And now, I’m staying with Malik. Do you know him?”
Montego chuckled. “Of course! Lord Malik is well known, though he’s not one for socializing. He keeps to himself, mostly.”
Olivia’s frown deepened. “Malik was supposed to wait for me at the party. I hope he’s okay.”
Montego waved a hand. “Oh, Malik can take care of himself, I assure you. I saw him leave the festivities earlier.”
Olivia’s brows pulled together. “Did you?”
“Yes.” The count smiled knowingly. “He can tell you where he went—we’ve arrived.”
He gestured toward the window just as the carriage turned onto a grand, sprawling driveway. Ahead, a villa as impressive as Montego’s and Costa’s loomed in the moonlight, its stone facade bathed in silvery shadows.
As the carriage came to a stop, Montego inclined his head toward us. “Shall I send the carriage for you later?”
“No, thank you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how we’d arrange our transport.
Montego scoffed. “Nonsense! I insist. You two must be exhausted. It’s midnight, and I won’t have you wandering about like lost souls.
” He straightened in his seat. “I’ll send my driver for you later.
He’ll bring you safely to my home, where you can rest. Sleep all day tomorrow if you like—I don’t mind. ”
“Thank you, Count Montego,” I said, remaining polite but insisting, “but we’ll manage.”
Montego exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. “Very well. I can admit defeat… so long as I get my way.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, and despite myself, I chuckled.
“I will expect you at my home in the morning,” he declared as I stepped out of the carriage.
“As you wish,” I said, adding a playful, formal bow.
Then, I turned and reached for Olivia, helping her out of the coach before closing the door behind her.
The carriage rolled away, its wheels kicking up dust as Montego disappeared into the night.
It was time to find Malik.
And finally, get some answers.
As Olivia and I approached the towering entrance, I murmured, “We have much to discuss, amore mio. There is so much I need to tell you.”
Olivia glanced at me, something unreadable showing in her eyes. “Same here. Wait until you hear about Marcellious.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further as we climbed the steps to Malik’s fine home.