Sonya could remember throwing up for days after that. When she'd worked up enough nerve to confront him, he hadn't bothered to deny the accusations like Sonya had hoped. He'd been quite emotionless and blasé about the entire situation, going so far as to tell her that now he wouldn't need to hide behind business trips when he traveled overseas.
She'd discovered her pregnancy soon after that and had spoken to her lawyers about a divorce. The result of that had been the death of her acting career. Charles had made it so that no one hired her. Going to the police ensured her eldest sister's car accident. After that, Sonya had gotten the message loud and clear. She wasn't going anywhere.
Scared, helpless and with no one to help her, she'd felt so alone. It was then that Sonya stopped fighting her husband and fell into the role of vapid socialite wife. She'd perfected the role so well that now she didn't even know who the real Sonya was.
Her son's hatred was the price she paid every day for her fear and cowardice all those years ago. She didn't want pity, nor did she expect anything from Nicholas for what she was planning. This was a long time coming and this was the least she could do for him for her failure as a parent. The very least.
Sonya patted the manila folder next to her. In just a few minutes they would arrive at Jacob Manor and the wheels of Charles's demise would be set in motion. Sonya could hardly wait to see the bastard squirm.
The very second the black luxury sedan came to a halt before the imposing structure that was Jacob Manor, Sonya anxiously opened the door. Heedless of the frazzled chauffeur who rushed to her side to open the door for her, she held the sealed envelope tightly to her thundering chest, hoping that she was doing the right thing. Once or twice on their journey she’d almost made the chauffeur turn the car around, sure that Charles was on to her. But the thought of Nicholas had given her strength. She was doing this for her son. She owed it to him.
Her nerves wreaked havoc on her sanity as she waited for someone to open the door. She huddled deeper into her fur coat as the frigid night air tousled her dark mane. Nervously peering into the black abyss of night, Sonya tried to see if something or someone was out there. This wasn't unusual for her, having to constantly be on her guard, looking over her shoulder every now and then had become a norm. She'd had years to become accustomed to being followed by Charles's men or the horde of paparazzi that had hounded her every footstep. The only difference between the two was that one had all the power and right to institutionalized her under the guise of doing it for her wellbeing.
Charles had threatened her with that more times than she could count over the last three years. He'd flaunted the fact the he'd already chosen the institution and was only waiting on her to slip up somehow and give him reason to sign the papers.
Well if this isn't reason enough. Sonya thought dryly.
"Have I given the world reasons to believe my home is some sort of haven?" Terran groused as he reluctantly opened the door.
"Don't be a pain, Terran," she retorted. "I need to speak with you."
Wordlessly Terran stepped aside allowing her entrance to his home. Beneath the dimmed lighting of glass chandeliers, Terran carefully assessed her. Face blessedly devoid of the war paint women insisted on wearing, Sonya appeared the fresh-faced beauty Terran remembered her to be. Crystalline blue eyes stared back at him, distress and wariness swirling in their depths. Taken aback, Terran wondered at the emotions there. This wasn't the self-possessed socialite bitch he was accustomed to seeing on television screens.
Gone was the wife of the multi-million dollar mogul, who could cut a man down to size with just one glance. The discernable fear weighing down on her shoulders was evident even in her attempt to remain strong. That one gesture alone instantly endeared her to him and for brief stretch of eternity he was once again the awkward boy, who had fallen utterly and irrevocably in love with his brother’s wife.
"What is it?" the abruptness of his voice was unintentional, but the effect she had on him put Terran off balance and that was something he wasn't sure he liked very much.
Her shoulders rose and immediately dropped back down, a frustrated sigh escaped her. "Tell me that you hate Charles, Terran. Tell me you want him to pay dearly for what he put you through." He face was without the slightest bit of humor, her unflinching gaze gauging his response.
"What is this about, Sonya…"
"This is about doling out justice, Terran and I want to know if I made the right decision in coming to you for help. Because I don't think I can do this by myself and survive."
Her urgency disturbed him. "Let's take this to my study." His staff had been dismissed for the evening and he didn't believe there were any bugs crawling around, since the last time he had his security personnel sweep the manor. But one was never truly safe when dealing with Charles, even in one's own home. His study was the safest place in the manor, the only place were only he had access to.
The silence crackled with tension as Terran closed the office door behind them. He watched while she aimlessly ambled around the room, touching scarlet and obsidian furniture. She removed her coat, revealing clothes that Terran didn't even know she owned. The navy blue trapeze sweater and pair dark blue jeans fitted her curvaceous figure quite well. The designer heels at her feet were muffled by the carpet as she continued to look around. Realizing he was staring, Terran cleared his throat and offered her a glass of wine, anything to distract him from lusting after Charles's wife...again.
"No, thank you." She settled against the Chesterfield clutching a large envelope on her lap. "Terran, I've known you for a long time now." She began. "And I know I haven't been the greatest of friends. Even when Abbie was still alive I failed to be a friend to you both and for that I am truly sorry." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, a habit reminiscent of her teenage years. "Because of my selfishness and cowardice, I've sat idly by while my husband ruined so many lives, yours included. I can't sit around and watch anymore. I can't let him ruin Nicholas's life more than it already is, for which I am partially to blame. If it weren't for your intervention at times, I don't even know where he would've ended up."
Terran remained silent. Leaning against his desk, he allowed her a moment before she continued.
"He's met someone, you know. When he came to see me in the hospital he spoke about her. You should've heard the joy in his voice Terran. He wasn't the same Nicholas." Were those tears Terran heard in her voice?
Her eyes had the glassy sheen of burgeoning tears and he wondered for one horrified second whether she was actually going to release those tears. He didn't do well with crying women.
"He's changed," she silently sniffed. The tears thankfully remained at bay. "It's a good kind of change. He has this happiness that's been absent his entire life and now that he has it, I'll be damned if I just sit by and let Charles take that away." The resolute glare was back on her face. "And that's where I need your help."
Terran released a sigh of his own. "Well I shall certainly do my best not to disappoint." Had he not been overzealous in his thoughts a few days ago, of wanting to destroy Charles? Sure he had believed his nephew the one to set the wheels in motion, but this would do just fine. Either way, the end result was to maim if not kill the underhanded knave and Terran was more than happy to be part of it. "What is that you need me to do?"
She stood from the couch and came to a stop an arm's length away from where Terran stood. Tentatively she handed him the mustard colored envelope and intertwined her fingers in front of her, watching him through a shade of thick dark lashes.
Mutely Terran opened the envelope, looked up for a brief second before curiosity won him over and he trained his eyes back to the contents inside the envelope. Not knowing what to expect he cautiously reached inside and took out the first thing that whispered against his fingers.
Terran's face remained blank while his eyes swept over the glossed images he held in his hand. "Fuck." Crass, but effective as it seemed the appropriate word to describe what h
e was seeing.
If a man was into such perversion, very illegal perversion, Terran wondered why he would be stupid enough to have someone photograph it. But then again, this was Charles Grayson, a man whose serial sadism was infamous. No one really knew exactly how his twisted mind worked.
The children, and they were simply that, innocent children, the majority little boys, cavorting with adult men, grown, lecherous, depraved men. They all seemed morally bankrupt, faces frozen within the glossy images. Charles was at the center of it all. In each photograph he was at the heart of it, face contorted in pleasure, he seemed to taunt the viewer with the depraved smile on his lips.
Terran was a man of strong constitution and at the moment he was grateful for it, otherwise he would've thoroughly embarrassed himself with the need to empty his stomach in the trash bin by his desk. But Sonya, he was sure wouldn't have faulted him he knew, because these images would've made anyone extremely sick.
Terran wasn't truly aware of Charles's immorality until this very moment. And to think, once he had wanted to be like this man.
Sonya was unable to discern Terran's emotions as his face remained as blank as a fresh canvas. But she continued to watch him, assuming that he probably felt the way she had the first time she looked at the pictures. "There are more," she felt as though she needed to say that. "Boxes full, he keeps them locked away in the East wing of the mansion. I was only able to get these few." she began to pace, agitation swimming through her system. "It's been like this for a long time now! I knew and yet…"
"You were scared." He said distractedly pouring the contents of the package on his desk.
"That's no excuse! Oh god! What if Nicholas…” She said with horror, her voice pained she tried not to hyperventilate.
"He never touched, Nicholas." Terran succinctly whispered against her head as he awkwardly held her. Nicholas would've told him, Terran was sure of it. His nephew would not harbor such a devastating secret.
"How do you know? What if that's why he hates me? Because I couldn't protect…"
"Stop," his command was harsh. "He hasn't touched Nicholas. Nicholas would've told me." He firmly assured. There weren't many things that Nicholas could keep secret from him. Nicholas may not have been his son, but the relationship they had was the closest any father and son could have and Terran believed that Nicholas would've come to him with something as grave as being molested by his father.
"This is not the time for guilt and we must both be strong in this. You have trusted me enough to come for my help and I promise you here and now that you will have it. This is exactly what is needed to see Charles gone from all our lives."
"I'm sorry," She pulled away and Terran allowed her a moment to gather her bearings. "I want him gone, Terran. I want him gone for a very long time."
"Yes," he nodded the gears in his head turning at great velocity as he tried to formulate their next move.
From this moment on, they had to tread carefully, they had the opportunity to maim the beast and Terran would not let it slip through his fingers. "His day of reckoning is near." There couldn't be any room for mistakes, if they so much as alerted Charles to their plans, everyone concerned would be made to suffer for conspiring against the devil himself.
Chapter Fourteen
The nurse had called at one thirty. The exigency in her voice had Nicholas breaking at least a dozen traffic violations to get them to the hospital. They'd parked in the ER lot and the moment they'd entered the hospital, Nicholas ran through the corridors like a madman. That had been almost four hours and twenty minutes ago and Nicholas stood in the exact spot where he had been since their arrival.
He hadn't spoken much and any attempt Ellie made to draw him out of his self-imposed misery had been futile. So she'd chosen instead to sit by his side and silently lend him support. The warm cup of tar-like coffee held between her hands abated the chill of dread that refused to leave her.
Glancing at Nicholas, Ellie worried for him. His face was closed off, eyes shuttered to keep his agony to himself, Ellie was unable to reach him, unable to provide the comfort he needed.
But Nicholas did not allow her the opportunity. His thoughts, his energy, his prayers were with his daughter, who was at this very moment fighting for her life behind those ominous white double doors. She'd struggled to breath throughout the day and had completely stopped breathing just before the nurse called them.
It was frightening, but the fear in Ellie's chest did not measure up to what she could imagine Nicholas was feeling. If that had been Sophie in there---the thought alone sent her reeling. She had enough of a hard time dealing with a sick Sophie, anything worse seemed unfathomable. Ellie couldn't comprehend what it was like to feel so utterly helpless, at least when Sophie was sick she knew how to care for her. Ellie knew how to soothe the pain away, but what did one do in this situation? How did one take away the pain of an infant child who was in the cusps of despair, teetering on that precarious line of life and death?
Ellie wanted the answers so that she could help her, because no matter who she came from, this little girl was also her own. She was a part of Nicholas therefore she was a part of Ellie as well now. Wasn't that how family worked?
She would be okay. Ellie fervently whispered to herself. Willing it, wishing it, praying it. She would be okay. She had to be okay. How else could they be a family if she wasn't a part of it? Ellie had fallen in love again and she wasn't nearly ready to say goodbye. Fate wouldn't be so cruel.
The OR door hissed open and a dreadful feeling overcame her. The doctor approached them and the sudden draft indicated that Nicholas had vacated his post to hurry and meet him halfway.
Her vision blurred. Ellie didn't need to lift her head or even acknowledge the sorrow coating the doctor's voice as he doled condolences. Even before she heard the odd guttural moan that escaped Nicholas's lips, she knew. Ellie hated that she knew.
She stood and silently ambled to where Nicholas stood...stunned. She embraced him, held him so tight that it hurt. He didn't squeeze back, only remained motionless in her arms. Ellie couldn't say that it would be okay. She couldn't bring herself to utter platitudes that they both knew would be pointless. But she held on, cried for him and desperately prayed that Nicholas did not withdraw from her.
"I'm here and I love you." She said voice choked with tears.
"I...” he stopped, his body shuddered.
"I'm here, Nicky." Please take your strength from me. Please God give me strength to be strong for the both of us.
"I can’t. I just…I can’t." it was an effort Ellie knew. She saw the battle for control, felt it within every hitched breath, within every corded muscle in Nicholas's body. She felt it in the fluttering beats of her lover's heart, erratically thumping against her own even with the layers of clothes between them, Ellie felt it.
Nicholas tried, fought to keep the tears and grief at bay. "I need to see her." He abruptly pushed away from Ellie. Angrily he swept the back of his hand across his cheeks and turned to the doctor who had been standing at a distance, giving them their moment to grieve.
"I... want to see her."
Pity painted on the doctor's face, he nodded. "Of course, follow me."
Not knowing whether she was needed or not, Ellie chose to remain behind. Nicholas needed time alone with Isabella. But the moment Nicholas turned back, face a shadow of pain, hand held out, Ellie was instantly at his side, her palm falling against Nicholas's own, she tightly intertwined their fingers.
Nicholas swallowed the egg sized lump in his throat. His hold on Ellie's hand tightened just a bit more when the nurse handed him the swaddled bunch. She looked like she was sleeping and nothing more. Nothing as everlasting as death.
God, it hurt to breath, Nicholas thought.
She didn't even get a chance.
He was forced to swallow, sure that the tears at the back of his throat would abate. "God I would've spoiled you rotten..." his voice sounded strange, heavier, deeper, the tears refused
to leave. "You would've had me wrapped around your little finger and I wouldn't have cared because nothing would've pleased me more than to see you happy. I didn't get to know you for long, but I loved you all the same."
It was becoming increasingly hard for him to speak, but Nicholas persevered. Needing to say what was on his chest one last time. "I know you'll be happy wherever you're going. I just wish I had you for a little longer. I don't know how good of a dad I would've been, but I know you would've been loved. Every second of your life you would've been loved with my entire being. You were such a brave little girl...staying with me for so long.
Thank you, Bella, thank you for giving me the opportunity to have met you. I love you, more than words can express, I love you and I will never forget you, for as long as I live your memory will live on. Rest in peace my love." His tears trickled down his cheeks, splattering into the blanket as he brushed a kiss across her forehead.
After handing her back to the nurse, Nicholas had Ellie in his arms. Seeking her warmth, he slid his hands through her hair, cupping her face his thumbs glided over her wet cheeks.
"It hurts...." He said brokenly, his forehead falling gently against hers. “It hurts so much, Ellie.”
"I'm so sorry, Nicky." She ached for him, truly and utterly. There weren’t words to say that could allay his agony. But all the same Ellie made an attempt if for nothing else then to fill the air. “I’m here for you, Nicky…always.” And she was. Ellie would always be there for him because there was no other place in the world she belonged more.
Nicholas’s response was to bury his face against her neck. Ellie held him as they mourned together.
It seemed fitting that the heavens would open and mourn for one of its own Ellie silently thought stepping closer to Nicholas with her umbrella.
Beautiful Disaster (The Bet) Page 24
