Chapter 10 #2
Now I wonder what else it cost him to become the man he is today—what wounds he buried so deep even he pretends they don’t exist.
“What was she like?” I ask. “Do you remember?”
“Ah…after all these years, my memory is hazy.” Ingrid nervously fidgets with her fingers.
“I was very young when I began working here. But she was…sophisticated. Beautiful. She had luminous big eyes and long, wavy hair. Whenever she entered a room, people noticed.” Her gaze lingers on me, thoughtful. “You remind me of her.”
“Do I?”
“Perhaps not in appearance, but in the aura. The presence. Something…similar.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that. Being compared to the woman who abandoned the little boy my husband once was isn’t exactly flattering.
“And Eero’s mother?” I can’t help my curiosity. “He’s Aric’s half brother.”
“Oh, she still sees Eero.” Ingrid’s body visibly relaxes. “Though she was never married to Mr. Vidar. He never remarried after Mrs. Angelique left. Eero’s mother, Siv, lived here for a few years after giving birth. But she moved out when Eero grew older.”
“Eero didn’t want to go with her?”
Ingrid shakes her head. “No, kjaere. He always looked up to his brother. He never wanted to leave this house…or Aric.”
“And you were like a mother to them both,” I state the obvious.
Her eyes warm. “I do care for them as if they were my own sons.”
She leans forward and pats my knee. “You should rest, Mrs. Vold. Your body has been through a shock.”
“I will,” I say, standing carefully so I don’t disturb Elske. “But first, I’d like to get some fresh air. The garden looked peaceful.”
“Of course. Only a few minutes, yes? It is late.”
I nod, pulling the sweater tighter around me as I walk toward the glass doors leading to the back garden.
“Let me bring you your coat,” Ingrid calls after me, and before I know it, she’s draping one of my coats over my shoulders. “Winters around here aren’t as warm and cozy as back in your home country. And this year, it’s been surprisingly harsh. Not like any other.”
I almost scoff.
Surprisingly harsh. Of course.
I knew it the moment I stepped off that jet—the way the cold sliced through me like a warning, and the way the sky hung low and heavy as if it had something to say. This country took one look at me and bared its teeth, daring me to prove I belonged.
The night air slices across my cheeks as I step out to the garden.
It’s nothing like Monsera’s warmth, that soft golden heat that clings to your skin like a second heartbeat.
Back home, even winter glows. The sun doesn’t just shine—it settles on your shoulders, seeps into your bones, slips beneath your ribs, and reminds you you’re alive.
Ingrid warned me it’d be freezing, and she was right. This country breathes ice—especially to a body raised on Monserian heat. My blood was made for desert warmth, for sun-soaked afternoons and warm coastal winds. I’ve never known cold like this, so perhaps it hits differently. Harder. Deeper.
Or perhaps I’m just being dramatic.
No. I’m definitely not. My bones are screaming.
“Beautiful night.” A familiar voice snaps me out of my thoughts, sending chills down my spine.
My breath stills as I turn.
“Luca…” His name leaves me in a ghost of a whisper, lips parting on instinct. Shock, disbelief, something colder than either.
Luca smiles as if he already knows he shouldn’t be here but couldn’t care less.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The cold air stings my lungs as I stare at him, stepping back instinctively. “How did you even get past—”
“Calm down, baby.” He lifts his hands in a soothing gesture. “I came for you.”
He what?
My heart kicks painfully.
“Are you out of your mind?” I hiss. “You can’t be here.”
“I can be anywhere if it means getting to you.” His eyes drag over me with a heat that once made me melt.
Now it makes me nauseous. Or perhaps it’s just my fear clawing its way up my throat.
“I promised you I would come for you,” he continues, taking a step closer.
“And I did. I’ll help you escape this madness. ”
“No.” My voice shakes. “No, Luca. I can’t leave.”
His jaw clenches. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I’m a married woman.” The words scrape out of me. “I have commitments now. And if I left with you—if I even tried—I could start a war.” My breath fractures as the memory of the gunshot punches through me. “There might already be one after tonight. Someone tried to shoot me.”
“They weren’t aiming at you,” Luca says casually.
My pulse stumbles, brows raise on their own, because… how could he know? “What do you mean?”
“That bullet was meant for him.” His smile grows satisfied. “You were never the target.”
I take a step back, the world tilting beneath my feet. “Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you had nothing to do with it.”
He looks at me like I’m the one being unreasonable as he moves forward instead, fearless in the way only the foolish or the damned can be.
“I did what I had to. It was the only way to free you. If he was gone, you could leave with me. No more chains. No more threats.”
I feel sick. This isn’t him. This isn’t the Luca I knew. The boy who used to bring me flowers and recite poetry under the stars—that boy is gone. Or maybe he never existed at all.
“I created an opening. A moment for you to run. To come back to the life we planned.” He spreads his hands as if the entire world is a small inconvenience.
“Remove Aric, and you’re free. Free to choose me.
Free to be mine again.” His lips tilt into a delusional smile.
“If I take out the king, the queen can finally walk off the board.”
Fear, denial, some desperate refusal to accept the man in front of me has carved his own fate with a bullet twists in my stomach.
“So did I shoot him?” His chin tips down, his grin lingering as he waits for me to confirm he shot my husband, convinced I’ll thank him for it.
I can’t speak. But someone else does.
“You did not.”
Aric.