40. Chapter 40
The salty breeze tugged at my hair as I spread the blanket across the warm sand. The ocean stretched endlessly before us, waves rolling in steady, predictable rhythms. I hoped it would be enough. Enough to steady her. Enough to steady me.
The sun hung high overhead, and I angled the enormous umbrella until the shade fell just right across the blanket. I wanted everything to be perfect for the conversation Isabella said she needed to have.
Even if I had no idea what was coming. We were on borrowed time. Sooner or later someone back home would realize the wedding had been called off. Questions would follow. Decisions would have to be made. We couldn’t stay here forever. A selfish part of me wished we could.
Maybe not forever. Just longer, the two of us alone.
I called her name. She turned slowly, kicking off her flip-flops as she walked across the sand. The moment she lowered herself onto the blanket, my breath caught in my throat. God, she was beautiful.
But the smile on her face was different. Not tense. More like determined and a little sad. That alone set every nerve in my body on edge. I reached for the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. My hands stayed steady despite the unease fluttering in my chest.
“I see you opted for wine instead of champagne.”
“Yeah, but maybe I should have gotten some brandy instead. Champagne seemed a bit celebratory, and something tells me this is anything but.”
“Very astute of you,” she offered, accepting the glass. She drew in a slow breath before speaking again. “You said I can always count on your promises.”
“And I meant it. Always.”
“You also said you’re a man of your word.”
My attention sharpened immediately. “I am.”
“So I need you to make me a promise right now.”
“Whatever you need,” I answered, relieved my voice didn’t betray the tension tightening in my stomach.
“Some of what I want to tell you will be hard to hear. It’s about my past. Do you think you are ready for that?”
I didn’t answer her right away. The ocean sounds filled the space between us. I’d come out here expecting something I could handle—Bash, logistics, next moves. Something I could get my hands on and fix. This…wasn’t that.
My eyes moved over her face, catching the tension she was trying to hide, the way her shoulders were tight. She was bracing. Already. For rejection. From me?
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Hey…” I lifted my hand, brushing a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. My fingers lingered there.
“I’m here,” I said, and this time there was no hesitation. “Whatever it is…I’ve got you.”
And I meant every part of it. My hand dropped back to my knee, giving her space without breaking the connection completely. I kept my eyes on hers, steady, letting her see there wasn’t anything she could say that would make me walk.
“I’ll take whatever you give me,” I added, slower now. “All of it. Even the parts you need more time to process. I won’t push.”
A breath left me, rougher than I intended, and I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she was choosing me for this.
“You honor me,” I said, quieter. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I won’t let you down.
And I’m all in, princess. I’m not going anywhere.
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not when it gets hard.
” My jaw tightened for a second before I forced it to ease, not wanting her to mistake it for hesitation.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep earning that trust, too,” I said, softer now. “Every day, if need be.”
Her lips parted, and her eyes flickered, searching my face like she was trying to find the catch.
There wasn’t one. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, a little unsteady, and filled with trepidation.
And when she inhaled, it wasn’t as sharp anymore.
It was deeper. Like she was finally letting herself believe me.
Then she spoke. “If I get to a point where it’s too much for you to hear, I need you to give me a signal.”
“Okay, that makes sense.”
She reached out, and the warmth of her small hand fell to my chest, center mass, right above my heart.
“I was thinking of something discreet. Maybe you could tap your chest right here. Twice.”
Two softly placed taps followed, and then her eyes lifted to mine. I brought her hand up to my lips and dusted it with kisses. I held her gaze, praying she could see the unwavering support I planned to give her.
“Is that all, princess? Consider it done,” I said. “But I need you to know, I’m stronger than you think.”
“I know. But sometimes when Kinsley shares things with the Kings…they need a break.”
“Okay, I’m tracking now.”
“It may not even be necessary,” she admitted. “Seeing as I didn’t have the same experience as the others, I don’t honestly know.”
Her gaze drifted out to the horizon before filling with tears. “There may be things that involve Kinsley though. I know my brother couldn’t stand to hear any of what I personally went through. Maybe it’s not fair of me.”
“It won’t be an issue, and I won’t let it get in the way. Isabella, I will carry every burden you give me. Now and forevermore,” I said.
She gave me a small nod and cleared her throat. Her chest heaved, and a heaviness entered mine. I pulled her hand into mine and rubbed circles around her pulse points.
“I’m ready to be your rock. And no pressure. You can stop at any point.”
Her gaze drifted past me, out toward the ocean, as if she were searching for the right words.
I let her take her time and didn’t try to fill the silence.
Instead, I braced myself, keeping a light hold on her hand.
Every instinct in me pushed to pull her closer, to anchor her before whatever she was about to say could take her under.
But this wasn’t about what I needed. It was about giving her the power. The wind shifted, catching strands of her hair and lifting them across her face. I resisted the urge to fix it this time, to tuck it back as I had before. She needed space more than she needed me hovering over her every breath.
So I tempered it. Forced myself still and waited. Her fingers tightened around mine for a brief second, testing to see if I was still there without looking. When she finally turned back to me, her eyes found mine without hesitation.
“I always shared a wall with Mischa. Do you mind if I use her real name during this?”
“Of course not. She will always be Mischa to me. I honor her wishes, but I can’t help it. I often catch myself and then remember to use Kinsley. Most of the time I can cover it by calling her mouse,” I said, trying to soothe her.
A small smile lit her face for a second before it faded.
“The man who took us, well, one of them, had a son. The four of us girls were introduced to him early on, prior to performing for an audience. We had to showcase our talents to him. On his birthday, no less. He had a sick obsession with dolls.”
“Dolls?” I wasn’t expecting that.
“Yeah. Those creepy porcelain types with old dresses. Think horror films where there is a possessed doll. He had his absolute favorites, which he kept behind a locked cabinet.”
Dread curled in my stomach.
Her chest heaved as she spoke. “On that first night we were forced to dress like them. Living dolls. And with a sixth sense I still don’t completely understand, I knew that Mischa and I were in the running to become his.”
My jaw tightened. Memories of mouse at the tender age of eight, throwing a ring at me, stomping her little foot, and then even darker ones played on a reel. The funeral. The emptiness. The fear of my parents when her grandfather showed up.
“Go on, please,” I said.
“I won’t lie to you. I often wished she would have been chosen. But her ADHD wouldn’t allow her to be still enough. He had a condition, it’s what Marcel said. Agalmatophilia.”
“Agalmatophilia?” I echoed.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It’s the clinical term used to describe a sexual attraction to statues, mannequins, and dolls…”
“He saw you as objects?” I murmured, feeling sick.
I struggled to comprehend how any man could look at a child that way. My mind refused to process it.
“Yes. Every time he called for me, he would have an outfit picked out. He would dress me, do my makeup. His obsession was deep. He even had a miniature doll created that was identical to me. When he was away at school, he’d sleep with it.”
A chill crawled down my spine. She pulled her hand from mine and drew her knees up before wrapping her arms around them. Soon, her body was rocking back and forth. Tears coursed down her cheeks and color filled them. Her eyes filled with anger.
“Somewhere in Connecticut is a run-down castle with a doll that looked like me as a child. There is one of Mischa. One of Victoria. And one of Winter. One of…”
She stopped, and her voice cracked. She clutched her chest and sucked in several deep breaths. I went to reach for her. For a second, I thought she was about to say Winter again. That maybe thinking about her caused her emotions to run higher.
It didn’t take a genius to know that number fourteen on her list was attempting to find the missing season sister.
“Lev, he even had one of…X,” she whimpered.
My girl fucking whimpered and I flinched. I’d heard at length about the abuse that X was subjected to. It was true that I had seen more and more since Cameron’s death firsthand about what the Death Squad did. I saw who they helped and why.
But understanding and knowing that someone you are so personally connected with was grieving—hit different. And that was what Isabella was doing right before my eyes. Grieving. Hard.
She went quiet as she stared out at the ocean waves. “Inside his trophy room…there’s a cabinet.” She wiped at her eyes. “And inside that cabinet are those dolls. I want to see if they’re still there.”
The wind shifted across the water. My pulse thudded harder as dread filled me.
“I want to reclaim them.” She drew a shaky breath. “I want to destroy that room. Number fourteen on my list. I have…have to go back there.” Her voice broke. “I don’t want to do it alone…” A pause. “But I will if I have to.” Her eyes found mine. “It’s important to me, Lev.”
Another shaky breath escaped, and tears coursed down her face in rivulets. Her throat worked hard to swallow the emotions, then her voice drifted soft as a breeze, filled with insecurity. “Say you’ll go with me.”
The world narrowed to her and her mind-boggling request. She wanted to go back there? To the place she was subjected to all kinds of abuse. Mental, emotional, physical. Where all around her was despair and incredible pain.
And I already knew…there was no version of this story where she was going to go anywhere alone.
Not on my watch.
To Be Continued