“I’ll be right back,” I whisper in Petra’s ear before standing up.
Mom does the same, and we quietly leave the table, the guests, and the outdoors in the direction of my office.
Opening the door, I invite her inside. “Make yourself at home.” And Mom does so, removing the shawl covering her shoulders and sitting comfortably on the sofa.
Closing the door behind me, I go to the bar and ask as I take the decanter, “Macallan Thirty, one ice sphere?”
“Where does your ice come from?”
Is that question a temperament check? Few questions could be as insulting to me as this one. And Mom knows this perfectly well. In fact, I don’t think anyone has ever dared to ask me that. She thinks I’m what? Fifteen? I’m tempted to scare the hell out of her and say it comes from the fridge, but instead I politely bring her the glass and say, “Wintersmiths. Anything else?”
She observes the crystal-clear ice sphere sitting in her glass, half covered by the single malt, and her lips curve up. “We can never be too prudent. Thank you.” Then, as I sit on the armchair beside her, I realize it’s the first time I’ve received her in my house. We’ve always met on the family estate in Dieren, but never in a house that is only mine. After taking a sip, she announces, “Tess attacked your sister on a TV interview.”
“Which one?” She cocks her head to the side, which means Julia. I then ask, “And how does that have anything to do with me?”
“Tess intends to become Minister of Justice if her party wins next year. And reform the entire judiciary system, most likely to get rid of your sister.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s your sister’s life we are talking about, Alexander,” Mom chides. “Tess is attacking her because of your fiancée.”
“Tess never liked Julia,” I snap back. “This has nothing to do with Petra.”
“But Tess never attacked Julia on TV before. Her name has never been exposed in the media,” Mom interposes. “Look, Julia can handle a few remarks, but I don’t want my daughter to be her next target because of your relationship.”
“Tess won’t do shit, and you know that.”
“Unless you don’t move to Singapore.”
And there we are. The real reason Mom wanted to hold the engagement party so quickly and was so keen to come here. Furrowing my brow, I ask, “You are here to make sure I’m really moving, aren’t you?” And I wish I wouldn’t have asked this question in the first place. Sometimes there are things I prefer not to know. Mom doesn’t answer. But there is no fucking need. Her expression says it all. “Fuck…” I huff, head shaking, my heart taking a goddamn blow at the realization. “When I thought for once you had no agenda,” I tell her, my tone laced with disgust and disappointment. I can’t help but feel sick to my stomach at her move. “We were so happy to welcome you here.” Regardless of what I tell her, Mom takes another sip, remaining just as serene and unbothered. “So all that talk about the preparation of the wedding for Petra’s birthday was bullshit, wasn’t it?”
She presses her lips tightly together, considering me for a moment, and mumbles a mere, “I’m sorry.”
I chuckle at the blatant charade. Sorry? That’s the only thing she has to say? “Get the fuck out of here.”
Mom creases her brows, finally leaving her indifference behind. “Alex—”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
Since Mom is not moving, I’m the one to leave.
As I reach the door, she says, “There is another option, you know.”
Turning back to look at her, I ask, “What are you talking about?”
“If you move to Singapore and break your engagement, you’ll be doing the right thing, and everyone will be happy. Well, except the two of you,” Mom explains. “On the other hand, if you stay and move forward with the wedding…” She lets her words trail off, while studying me attentively. “There might be some painful consequences,” she says, finishing her whiskey. “You might lose your friends, your reputation, your hedge fund—”
“I know that.”
“And that’s all fine,” she keeps going. “If that’s what you want… But if Tess presses charges against us for what happened twenty years ago, repercussions are to be expected.” I frown at the word repercussions. “At the end of the day, the real question is…” She leans back and waits a morbid second before asking, “How far would you go for love?”
And I know at that moment that if I choose to marry Petra, this marriage will come with a hefty price tag. I could always sell my part of the company and resign. Roy might never talk to me again, but the repercussions against her own mother? Could I really live with that? Damn it… I promised myself no more deaths. What if Petra finds out and never forgives me? And worse, what if, after her mother’s death, someone tells her the whole truth about what happened twenty years ago? Would she forgive me?
“So if I marry her, the price to pay is what I think it is?”
“If you do really intend to marry her…” Mom leans forward, looking me straight in the eye. “I’d suggest you ask your future mother-in-law to drop whatever it is she has against us before it’s too late.”
Chapter 9
Bedford Hills, September 11, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
Everyone is gathered in front of the female singer and her musicians, who are now playing “The Look of Love” by Diana Krall. As the singer starts crooning, I remember how much I love this song. It’s so damn romantic! Looking around at the strings of fairy lights and how everyone seems to be happily enjoying the evening, I can’t help but feel so much gratitude for the outstanding job Emma did. Julia and Sebastian are already slow dancing, along with Maud and her husband. On my right side, I find Elliot and Dad, glasses in hand, engrossed in conversation, and on the other, Yara and Emma. But I don’t see either Margaret or Alex. They have been gone for over half an hour though. Why are they taking so long?
Instead of sitting here alone, I decide to turn to Emma and Yara. “Hi, Emma,” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
“Very much, and you?” she replies for the sake of politeness, but I can see by their faces that I’m disturbing them.
“Um, sorry to ask, but have you seen Alex?”
As I notice them looking over my shoulder, I turn around and see my fiancé smiling at me. “Were you missing me already?”
His question brings a grin to my lips, and I instantly put my arms around him, saying, “Finally!” Then I drag him to the dance floor. “This song has to be the one for our wedding dance.”
“Do we have to hire Diana Krall too?” he asks, most likely teasing.
“If you can manage it…” I reply before wrapping my arms around his neck as I finally manage to get him only to myself. He puts his hands on my waist, and we start swaying together to my favorite song. “We haven’t had one single minute to ourselves the entire evening.”
He gives me one of his charming smiles that makes my heart go wild. “Get ready, because that’s most likely how our wedding day will be.” And I can’t help but bite my bottom lip as I hear him speaking about our wedding.
“Do you mind if we get married on the fifth like I said to Julia? I had the idea at the very last minute,” I tell him. “But if you don’t like it…”
“It’s the perfect date,” he reassures me in a low voice. “Bishop De Korte is part of Sebastian’s family, and my mom knows him very well. I’m sure they can make it happen.”
“Great,” I reply before we lapse into silence as we revel in the dance and the beautiful music. But after a few more beats, curiosity takes over me, and I have to ask, “Um, I know it’s none of my business, but what did you and your mom speak about?”
Alex doesn’t reply immediately. I see him pondering his words before cautiously saying, “Just details about the wedding.”
As I observe the nervousness written all over his face, I can’t help but insist, “Are you sure?”
But not even our dance and his irresistible smile are enough to reassure me. I know there is something troubling him. I can feel it. And I’ve got the feeling it has to do with my mom. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” I ask again, searching for his gaze.
When his blue eyes finally lock with mine again, I look for a hint of what he could possibly be hiding from me, but he presses his lips together before they land on my forehead. “Are you enjoying the evening?” His question is not what I was expecting, to say the least.
“Alex…” I mumble, bringing my mouth to his ear. “You know you can trust me.”
“I know…” He answers me with contemplative eyes, his lips curving up as he softly strokes my long hair. “You are so beautiful tonight.”
I swallow dryly at his words. His voice carries a heavy melancholia that doesn’t match the mood of our evening. “What’s going on?” I keep insisting. “Alex, tell me.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes, of course. But—”
“One day, I’ll tell you,” he interposes.
“When?”
“When the time is right.” And he seals these words with another kiss, this time on my head.
Secrets. I never thought they would become a thing between us. From the moment we got engaged, I had hoped we would be a couple with open, honest conversations, with no secrets, and no bullshit. But the truth is, I fucked up. I should’ve told him about my nightmare, and I didn’t. I didn’t confront him like Emma told me to, and I know I’m a coward for not doing so. But I’m scared of his reply. I’m scared as I ask him, “Are you gonna leave me?” Fuck! The question left my mouth without any warning!
An uncomfortable emptiness fills the space between us before he says, “Your mother is planning to come next week.”
“I don’t want to see her,” I snap back. “She’s nothing but trouble.”
A little chuckle escapes him before he nuzzles against my hair, reveling in it. “I know.”
Then, as I rest my head against his, I breathe slowly in and out to prevent tears, but one silently rolls down my cheek. After all, Alex didn’t answer my question.
After our dance, and while Emma seems to be in love with Yara’s chitchat, Alex and I decide it’s time to start saying goodbye to our guests. But before my dad leaves, I ask him to take a quick walk around the gardens with me. Taking my Dad by the arm, we stroll around the country yard, immersed in the tranquil night, lit only by the stars and moon above us. After some small talk, and once we’ve gotten far enough away from the crowd, I ask, “Do you remember when I was seven? I used to play here with Alex.”
“I do, yes,” Dad mumbles, keeping it short and formal.
With my mind already wandering as I recall such memories, I say, “No matter how cloudy or sunny the day, I loved to play hide-and-seek with him. One of my tricks was to lie on the grass and remain quiet. I always thought he wouldn’t find me like that.” I let out a quick giggle, but Dad remains silent, replying with just a polite smile. Switching to another subject, I say, “Did you enjoy the evening?”
“It was wonderful. Emma did a great job. I never knew she was so talented at event planning,” he replies, just as calculated as before.
“Yeah, she’s great.” After a few more steps, I decide to cut the bullshit and get straight to the point. “Dad, I need to ask you a favor.”
Dad stops walking, and, looking me straight in the eye, he asks, “What’s going on?”
There aren’t a thousand ways to say it, so I make my request as straightforward as possible. “Can you fly to Rotterdam and let Mom know I don’t want to see her? Like, ever again?”
Dad twitches his head to the side, sighing in exasperation, and maybe also disbelief. “Petra…”
“Please?” I insist. “Can you do that for me? Alex told me she’s planning to visit me soon. Can you go before that?”
Dad’s eyes widen in shock. “You mean, you want me to go to Rotterdam this week?”
“Please tell her I don’t want to talk to her anymore. I wish her well, but I don’t want her in my life.”
But Dad shakes his head, not even bothering to consider my request. “I’ve got a lot to do here.”
“Please,” I plead once more as I take his hands and confront him face-to-face. “It’s really urgent.”
“Petra… She’s your mother. She loves you a lot. I can’t tell her that. She’s going to be devastated.”
“Then tell her to leave me and my fiancé alone,” I press on. “If she does so, I might even invite her to the wedding.”
Dad drops his stare to the ground, drawing in a breath. I know it’s not easy for him to be in the middle of such a fight, but I need him on our side more than ever. His eyes meet mine again, and, after noticing the distress laced in my gaze, he says, “Alright. I will talk to her.”
My brows lift in surprise. “Really?”
“I can’t promise anything,” he admits. “But I will do my best.”
Jumping into his arms, I whisper, “I’m sure you’ll manage. I trust you.”
Chapter 10
Bedford Hills, September 12, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
Mornings have always had a special scent in Bedford Hills, especially when I have to spend the week on Park Avenue and can only be here during the weekends. I’ve noticed there’s always a trace of Alex’s cologne left on the pillows and maybe all over me when I wake up. Slowly stretching my arm over to the left side of the bed, I find nothing but emptiness. Oh God! The hunt! Gasping, I open my eyes wide, my heart already pounding anxiously fast. There is no way I’ll let him kill a poor bear! In a quick move, I leap out of bed, grab my iPhone from the nightstand, and call his number. Since he doesn’t answer, I’ve got to find him and fast. I put on the first pair of jeans and sweater I can get my hands on, no bra— there is no time for that—and after running down the stairs, I start looking around for him while shouting his name. But I get no answer. Nope, nothing. Damn it! I rush to the kitchen in the hope of finding Maria there.
“Ah! Maria,” I call as I find her chopping vegetables. “I need to know where Alex is.”
But Maria doesn’t even bother to look in my direction, and, keeping herself just as focused as always, she just says, “I have no idea, Miss.”
“Of course you do,” I press on. Seeing how she keeps ignoring me, I put my hand on her shoulder, turning her to face me. “Maria…”
“Okay, maybe I do,” she confesses. “But I can’t tell you.” She tries to dodge me, walking toward the fridge to take something from there. Too bad I’m the most stubborn between the two of us.
“Look, the hunt starts in an hour. Please, I need to talk to him.”
“I’m not allowed to tell you where he is,” she admits. “I’m sorry, Miss.”
I’m so furious at the instructions he gave her that I just want to strangle him, but instead, taking a deep breath, I try to keep my temper in check. “Please,” I insist. “It’s really urgent. I won’t tell him you told me.” Despite my serious tone, Maria continues to ignore me as she tastes the soup simmering on the stove. “I promise, I will make it seem like I just found him.”
“Why is it so important?” she finally asks.
“An innocent life is at stake,” I reply just as fast.
But Maria immediately rolls her eyes. “He will fire me if I tell you,” she says. “He gave me clear instructions.”
“Huh?” Fire her? I cannot possibly believe it. “Of course not, no one’s gonna fire you. I promise.” Maria shakes her head in denial. “Maria, I will never let it happen.”
The gravity in my tone makes her ponder my words more seriously. She then frowns and, a bit skeptical, asks, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I will protect you. No one will fire you. I give you my word.”
After
some hesitation, she finally looks again at me and says, “He’s with Sebastian, getting ready.”
“Sebastian? He’s already here? Okay… Um, where?”
Maria twitches her lips, thinking twice, but finally blurts out, “In the trophy room.”
“What?!” I snap in total disbelief. “A trophy room?” I ask again, making sure I heard her properly. Maria just nods at me in return. Oh God, my heart thunders at a thousand miles an hour. “What kind of trophies are we talking about? Don’t tell me it’s what I’m thinking.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Where is the room?” I ask, ready to kill him instead and expose him as a trophy among those innocent lives. Maria’s attention shifts back to the stove, ignoring me. My nerves are boiling under my skin, and my patience is vanishing. “Where is the room?” I demand louder.
Startled, Maria finally stops her little game, and after cleaning her hands on her apron, she leads me out of the kitchen. “This way, please.”
After walking all the way to the end of the hallway, we take the stairs and go down to the basement. I knew there was an old winery here, but that’s all. Alex has never bothered to show me all the rooms occupying his basement. Once we reach the wood-paneled corridor, she switches on the light, and looking ahead, she says, “The last door on your right.” But before I can walk farther, Maria holds me back and adds, “Don’t tell him I told you.” There is genuine concern and fear in her voice, which makes my heart squeeze.
Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2) Page 10
