Chapter Thirteen
OVER THE NEXT couple of weeks, Constantine’s suspicion that Aliyah was holding something back from him—something big—only grew.
There seemed to be a frantic energy about her, as if she was on the cusp of something big and couldn’t stop it from spilling over into her movements or expressions. That calm, steely composure he hated so much was gone. But not in the way he’d wanted it.
Nothing had changed in her behavior toward him, at least nothing he could put a finger on.
She was ecstatic about Rose coming to live with them in as soon as one or two months.
As was the teen—even though it meant giving up her own friends and being homeschooled by Aliyah until they could decide where she wanted to study further.
During the evenings, out of nowhere, she threw her arms around him, kissing his neck, thanking him profusely for keeping her family together.
He had no idea whether he was included in that word or not, and he hated that he wanted to be.
She was just as eager for him to make love to her as she had been from the beginning, if a little clingy after. Not that he minded one bit.
Already, he was getting used to sleeping with her long limbs thrown around him. Getting used to waking up with her face pressed into his chest. Getting used to the care and concern she showed him as the knife wound healed.
Their explosive sexual connection—which didn’t show any signs of cooling—was one thing.
It was the intimacy of waking up with her, watching her dress or practice the piano or find her tracing her long fingers around the perimeter of his wound as if she was still worried about him… that struck some deep chord inside him.
For most of his life, he had survived without anyone caring about him—his grandfather had been a hard man, seeing him as a duty rather than a boy who craved belonging—not about the small details, not about the big, hard things.
Julian’s friendship had been a balm for the angsty, determined teenager who wanted to make his way in the world. Then it had been Aliyah’s friendship, her open affection, her care for him that had filled the hollow places inside him—until she had taken it all away.
Leaving him a broken shell of a man. Leaving him much worse than before.
And now, she was back in his life, through her necessity and his manipulations, and she was making him feel and want and yearn for things he dared not.
Already, he felt twisted inside out by whatever it was that she was holding back or hiding. He would be in the middle of a meeting with the shareholders and wonder if she was planning to leave him again once she had custody of Rose.
But they had an arrangement, a bloody contract in place, he reminded himself, horrified by the thought of his life without her.
In the end, the answers he wanted came to him, in a way he hadn’t foreseen. So much worse than he had imagined in his twisted head and yet so clear and brilliant as the truth always turned out to be.
The rain hadn’t let up since late afternoon, and by the time Constantine reached the villa’s front steps, his shirt clung to his skin like a second, soaked hide. Water dripped from his hair down the back of his neck, cold and slick, pooling under the collar of his jacket.
The short walk from the car had been enough to drench him through. But it didn’t slow him down.
The wind howled off the sea, slamming rain against the windows in hard, angry bursts.
The shutters rattled with each gust, the gray-black sky pressing down like a threat.
The storm didn’t bother Constantine. If anything, it matched the gnawing restlessness inside him—loud, relentless and long overdue.
He didn’t bother shaking off the rain as he stepped inside.
The grand foyer welcomed him with familiar warmth and the faint scent of lemon oil and jasmine—the way it always did now. But it didn’t soothe him tonight.
Only the truth would now—about the present and the past. Suddenly, he knew he had to know why she had run away without a word back then, why she hadn’t trusted him. Why she had left him behind.
He was done guessing, wondering, twisting himself inside out.
Done dancing around the tension building between them.
Done waking up beside her and pretending he didn’t hear the way her breathing hitched in the dark.
Done watching her in the middle of a soft smile, only for her eyes to go dark the moment they fell on his still-healing wound—as if the sight of it dragged her somewhere he couldn’t follow.
Something was eating her alive. And if she couldn’t trust him with it, if she didn’t trust him to protect her and whatever they were building, didn’t trust that it was important to him too, then they were already at the end of whatever they were trying to build.
He would send her away, tonight, this moment, dissolve this fucking marriage if she didn’t come clean with him. She and her precious stepdaughter could go back to their lives without him.
He was damned if would he let her break him again.
Jaw tight, he shrugged off his jacket, the fabric heavy and dripping as he threw it off. His boots left wet prints on the marble as he moved deeper into the house, each step fueled by that growing hollow ache inside him.
The warm glow of the sconces in the hallway did little to cut through the storm rumbling inside him. He rounded the corner into the lounge, running a hand through his wet hair—only to still at the sound of raised voices.
Christos, was Theo ever not here? And what the hell was he urging Aliyah into now?
Jaw clenching, Constantine stopped.
Theo’s voice carried just enough to be heard, low and insistent, tinged with frustration. Constantine couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t announce himself.
The part of him that had been on edge for weeks—watching Aliyah slip through his fingers even as she kissed him like he was her whole world—held him back.
It gutted him that she hadn’t come to him. And that admission of how much he wanted her to trust him, how much he wanted her to want this life with him…held him still, like a thief in his own home.
“Aliyah, before you tell me why you asked me here,” Theo was saying, something bleak in his voice, “I know what your mother did, all those years ago. The night you left.”
Every inch of Constantine froze, his stomach hollowing out endlessly. What had Noor done before Aliyah had left town in the dark of the night? What was Theo talking about? But if he showed himself, he had no doubt that both father and daughter would clam up.
Unclenching his fists, he forced himself to take a breath. For just a second, he thought he might not hear anything with his own heartbeat loud in his ears.
“I don’t want to revisit the past, Papa.
It’s done.” Steely resolve radiated from each word.
“You and Mama—” here, her breath hitched in that way he’d come to recognize as her on the edge “—you played your parts in dictating our lives. If this is about forgiveness, then I forgive you, okay. For what you both did.”
From where he was standing, behind a pillar, Constantine could see the sconces illuminate her fragile features. His heart twisted as she scrubbed a tear impatiently with the back of her hand.
“Though I can’t, on Constantine’s behalf.”
Theo took her hands in his, guilt and regrets carving lines through his already gaunt face. “No, Aliyah. I don’t want forgiveness. I want your happiness, child. I know I’m so late—”
Aliyah jerked out of his hold and turned to look out the French doors. Rain lashed against the glass panes. “My happiness lies in the present, Papa. In what we are building. I might not have his trust or respect or his…”
Theo couldn’t see it but Constantine did, in the reflection on the glass. Her hands drifting to her belly and gently cupping there, as if she was protecting something precious.
As if she were already protecting their child from the world and all its ills, as if…
She is pregnant! The thought struck him with all the power and force of lightning lashing itself against the sky.
Aliyah was pregnant with their child…that’s what she had been hiding, why she had been teetering up and down constantly. Why there was such frantic urgency in her eyes, night or day.
And yet she hadn’t seen fit to tell him the happy news.
Hurt splintered through him, sitting like a giant anvil on his chest, nearly stealing his breath. Did she think he wouldn’t be happy?
“But he should know the truth, Aliyah. He should know that your mother told you that he had agreed to give you up in return for the power and wealth I dangled in front of him. He should know that you were crushed and scared and out of your mind. That you thought your love, and you, weren’t enough for him.
” As if the words had been waiting forever, seeking redemption, they rushed out of her father’s mouth.
“He should know that she played on your fears to drive you away. That she did it to punish you and him, to kill any love he had for you. If he knows the truth, then you two can start over—”
“No,” Aliyah said while Constantine reached for the pillar to keep himself upright.
For a second, he wondered if he was dreaming. But no, Theo’s words were clear.
Here was the answer that had eluded him for more than a decade, the thought that had haunted him, however high he climbed.
Aliyah had left without talking to him because Noor had lied to her. Had used the negligence and the apathy she and Theo had subjected her to to eat up Aliyah’s belief in him.
With all the past that had been raked up since her reappearance, he remembered clearly how desperate she’d always been for Noor’s affection, her approval, even just a kind word.
And to learn from her mother that Constantine had given in to her father’s demands and given her up…
it would have been her worst fear confirmed.
That she didn’t matter to him, the same way she hadn’t mattered to her parents or anyone.