5. Never Surrender
Chapter five
Never Surrender
Nicolette
I n the early-morning sun, under a blanket of humidity, I lay on the terrace in the Savasana pose, otherwise known as the corpse pose, after my yoga workout, feeling a little dead inside. With one hand on my heart and the other on my abdomen, I knew I still lived.
In my head I could hear my yoga instructor, Devon, telling me to fully surrender to the energy that prepares us for the inevitability of our death. I knew my death was imminent, but the fight to live still swelled inside of me. Which meant I would have to live a lie . . . for now.
It was hard to reconcile that, when all my life my mother had taught me to live a life of truth.
Not my truth, but the truth. Her favorite things to say to me were Never test a theory expecting a certain outcome , and Every time you walk into a lab, leave your biases and what you think you know at the door.
If they’re still there when you leave, you can pick them back up .
But my mother also left me with a lot of questions. Questions like . . .
The sliding glass door opened, and I held my breath but maintained my pose, including keeping my eyes closed.
“Nicolette,” Julian said my name with such adoration, I almost believed he meant it. But I was at least smart enough to know this was just a game for him. A game I had to win if I wanted to survive. I would never willingly surrender to death.
“Yes,” I responded with no emotion.
“I have to be at the office early for an overseas call.”
“Okay,” I said laconically.
“If you would like . . . I could cancel. We could fly to Rome or Paris for the day. I could charter a jet right now.”
My father was a wealthy man, but Julian’s riches knew no bounds—nor did his audacity.
If he thought I wanted to spend the day with him, he was sorely mistaken.
Flying to some romantic destination wouldn’t silence the whispers that I was nothing more than a business transaction. The damage had already been done.
The only way forward was to face my fears and step out of the shadows of my parents, where I had hidden for years. It had been comfortable there. Safe. But there was nowhere safe now.
“Keep your appointment.”
He let out a long sigh. “If that is what you wish.”
I had so many wishes, and that was not it, but I nodded all the same, still refusing to look at him.
“Are you all right? You were having nightmares again last night.”
I stilled, hating that I couldn’t keep the dreams about my mother to myself. They weren’t dreams, not really—more like reliving the last phone call I ever had with her.
She’d called me right before she died, her voice frantic. It had caught me off guard. My mother was all class and grace— her very name. Nothing ever rattled her. But that night, she’d sounded petrified.
She kept saying there were things I needed to know. Important things. Things to protect me. She’d begged me to go to the house, take her laptop, keep it safe, and tell no one. Not even my father. Then she pleaded with me to finish her work. Said that I was the only one who could.
But before she could tell me which work or why I needed protection, the line was swallowed by the deafening crash of metal on metal. The sound was sickening, final.
Worse were the sounds of breaking glass, my mother’s scream, and the man’s voice I swore I’d heard just before the line went dead.
That call and the unfamiliar voice in the background had haunted me every day since.
Was my mother having an affair? Was I delusional?
I had to be. There had been no traces of anyone else in the car when they pulled Mom’s Mercedes from the river.
They’d recovered hardly anything, including her cell phone.
I wanted to ask my father about it, but I couldn’t.
If he knew of an affair, there was no reason to rub salt in his wounds.
And if he didn’t know or there was no affair and I’d only imagined things, it didn’t seem right to torture him.
So for over a year now, I’d carried the torment alone, reliving it almost every night in my dreams. For weeks and weeks I’d been trying to break into the password-protected files on her laptop, but every attempt ended in failure.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said quickly, hoping he would let it go.
“There is no need to apologize. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about the dreams?”
“I’m sure.”
“In that case, I have a gift for you.”
“I already bought new clothes.” I had dedicated my entire Sunday to exploring boutiques across the city. Not because Julian wanted me to, but because I refused to live in anyone’s shadow anymore or be the butt of anyone’s jokes.
“Yes, I noticed. The red evening gown is fetching. Are you planning on wearing that today?” he teased.
His charming ways didn’t fool me. “Not unless you’re planning on hosting a gala at breakfast.”
Honestly, I’d thought about wearing the gown to work just to irk him, but I had to be smart.
My lab coat wouldn’t cover it, and with how much it cost, there was no way I was getting that baby dirty.
My “husband” and my father were wealthy—I wasn’t.
My parents had always agreed that I needed to earn my way.
Even inheriting Hart Labs was conditional on proving myself. That was no longer my concern.
He chuckled, then his tone shifted, becoming more serious. “Could you at least look at me?”
Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and rolled my head toward him. The sunlight forced me to squint, but I made out the wooden box in his hands.
“Whatever it is,” I said flatly, “you can keep it.”
A moment of frustration flickered across his fine features, but he recovered quickly. “I think you might change your mind if you open the box.”
“I doubt it.”
That didn’t deter him. He made his way to me, perusing my body, which was covered only in yoga pants and a cropped tank top. Honestly, I’d perused my own body in the mirror a lot the last couple of days. I hardly recognized it.
For years, I’d paid little attention to it. Yes, I ate clean and worked out—studying pathology long enough made anyone into a health nut. But no matter how fit I was, few ever noticed. So I stopped noticing too. It hurt less that way.
Now everyone was looking. Julian had made sure of it. Which meant I had to know myself better than ever.
He knelt beside me, close enough that I swore he breathed in my scent, a shiver running through him.
Sometimes I wondered if he longed to taste my blood. He’d promised he would never turn me into one of his kind. But I’d be a fool to believe anything that came out of his perfectly shaped mouth.
Without invitation, Julian tipped the cedar box toward me and opened it to reveal two old books with gold insignias on the faded terra-cotta cloth covers.
“These are the original volumes of The Count of Monte Cristo . Alexandre signed them himself.” Julian spoke fondly of the author, as if they were friends. “I know how much you love the story.”
It was one of my favorites, though it was tragic.
I thought of how often Julian and I had discussed its themes—love, revenge, justice, happiness, redemption.
He had spoken of redemption with a passion that made me believe he longed for it.
He had orated about happiness like someone who had once possessed it, lost it, and now craved it more than anything.
And I had fallen for all of it. For him. For the lie.
Which was why I hated him so much.
Still, I had so many questions for Julian. What a life he must have led. From the moment we met, I knew he was well traveled and highly educated. I just hadn’t realized to what extent. He probably had lifetimes behind him—he had lived history itself.
I ached to reach out and touch the books, but I couldn’t. They were in remarkable condition for being nearly two hundred years old. At a minimum, they had to be worth a $100,000, if not more.
“They’re beautiful, but I can’t accept them.”
I sat up, scooting away from Julian on my mat. He did things to me—things I didn’t want to admit. And there was something about him in a suit and tie that unraveled me in ways I hated.
“Why not?” he asked, irritation brewing beneath his confusion. “There are no strings attached.”
All of this was an enormous ball of string, wrapping tighter and tighter around me until I could hardly breathe.
“Regardless, you should give a gift like that to someone you love. We both know that’s not me.”
I stood and winced. My stupid ankle still hurt. I probably shouldn’t have walked all over town yesterday. But the thought of being cooped up with Julian had been even less appealing.
Julian rose to his full stature and towered over me by a good six inches. Which meant he was at least six two.
“I see you wish to remain difficult.”
“I guess so.”
He closed the lid on the box with a sharp snap. “I’m trying to make the best of this situation.”
A situation he’d forced me into. I grabbed my water bottle from the small table nearby, holding my tongue. Arguing was going to do me no good.
When I didn’t respond, he curtly said, “I’m headed to the office. Amos will drive you to the lab when you’re ready to go. Just call down to the front desk.”
I didn’t need a driver or a babysitter. Julian said it was all for my protection.
Who else did I need protection from other than him and his family?
He probably thought I was planning an escape.
I was going to escape, all right, but when I got out of this, it would be because my scientific discoveries made Julian and his entire kind a thing of the past.
“Fine. But just so you know, I know you had him follow me yesterday. He reeks of cigars and peppermint.”
Julian cracked a smile before scowling. “You are safe, so that’s all that matters.”
“If you say so. Have a good day, honey .” I oozed sarcasm.
“I appreciate your fire, Nicolette. Truly I do. But there is no need for either you or me to burn because of it.” He held up the wooden box. “These are yours if you wish to have them. Have a good day, darling,” he said sincerely before turning and walking away.
I stared after him, feeling like the flames were swallowing me whole with no fire extinguisher in sight.