Page 51 of Break Me: Smith and Belle

What he didn’t say lingered in the air: but we can’t.

No matter what we did, this life always found us.

“I think I’ll walk a while,” he told me, tipping his head toward the house. “It’s rare that I get away from any of them long enough to be alone.”

I imagined that was true. Alexander always had an entourage. I suspected the only privacy he ever found was in his own bedroom. “I’ll send them in the opposite direction.”

“Smith,” Alexander called before I got far. I paused. “I know we’ve worked together a long time.”

I waited. I’d gone to him after his father’s death. I had never expected to stay linked to him this long, but then I had fallen in love with a whip-smart blonde with red lips.

“I want you to know I consider you a friend. I know I owe you,” he said, “but I want to be clear, I’m not keeping score. When you need me—when any of you need me—I’ll be there.”

I considered his words for a moment. I didn’t have many people I placed in the category of friends. Finally, I nodded. “Same.”

We parted with the understanding that we were more than allies. It would never be like Belle and Edward. This was a friendship forged in duty and a shared concept of responsibility. Few men could understand the way I operated—Alexander was one of them.

“Don’t get assassinated out here,” I advised him.

“I’ll try not to.”

Our friendship was already off to a strong smart. As I returned to the house, I considered the fact that he might be safer outside Thornham’s walls than he was inside. I was so lost in my thoughts that I nearly ran into Mrs. Winters as she wobbled out of the pantry.

“Your lunch is ready,” Mrs. Winters informed me when I walked into the kitchen.

“My lunch?” I asked in confusion.

“Your wife was supposed to ask you if I should make lunch for you and your guests,” Mrs. Winters said in an irritated voice. “She never bothered to tell me what you said, so I assumed I should. Should I wrap it up?”

The last thing I needed was to lose more help around the house. Belle had her mind on other things, and I couldn’t blame her for that. “No, I’ll round everyone up. I apologize for the confusion. It’s been a stressful day.”

“I imagine so with Nora leaving.” She studied me for a moment, wheels turning in her eyes. “I’ll have dinner ready at seven. I assume His Majesty is staying for the party.”

“Ummm,” I hedged. “I assume so, too.” I didn’t want to speak for Alexander. He probably wanted to get back to London. Like me, he didn’t approve of being apart from his wife and children for too long. But we had unfinished business to attend to, which meant that he would be here until it was wrapped up.

Mrs. Winters started back toward the kitchen, but paused. “I almost forgot. A letter came to you from a messenger. I left it by the door.” She shook her head, looking disgruntled that she’d had to attend to this. “When will Humphrey be back from holiday?”

“This weekend, I think,” I said absently. I wasn’t expecting any deliveries. I no longer had clients to see to. We had purchased Thornham outright. I couldn’t think of a single reason for a messenger to deliver a letter today. I turned, grinning despite the stress I felt, imagining what it must have been like for someone to bring a delivery and see a helicopter on the lawn. It was more surreal than amusing. I thought my life was complicated before I met Belle. I had no idea how much more complicated it could become.

I found the envelope sitting on a table near the entrance, next to an elaborate arrangement of fresh white roses and lilies in a silver vase. As I reached for it, the scent of the flowers hit my nose. They smelled cloying, and I grimaced.

They smelled like Nora’s perfume.

I pushed against the memory of her touch. Of kissing her wrist. It had been a mistake—one she had paid dearly for. Belle had been getting better. I’d finally had some hope after she’d stopped the sleeping pills that we could make our life in Thornham work. But Nora had robbed that hope from me. She was a thief, trying to steal my heart, but all she had done was steal my wife. I had to make Belle see reason. Every time we discussed what happened, I saw the shame in her eyes. She wanted to turn herself in. She was scared of herself.

The worst part was that I was scared of her as well. Scared that she might vanish like Nora in the night. Scared that her mind was slipping away like Miranda. I knew she didn’t want to believe that the Thorne baby had anything to do with this, but I needed to. The alternative was too disturbing to consider. Belle had not fallen victim to the darkness of Thornham. I couldn’t believe it. Not without more proof.

I carried the envelope to my office and found my letter opener on the desk. Sliding its edge under the flap, I cut it open. I dropped the letter opener and drew out a single sheet of paper. A few photographs had been attached to its corner with a paperclip. My eyes scanned the printed letter, typed in a boring font that must have come pre-installed on whatever computer it had been written on. By the time, I had reached the second line, my pulse was pounding so hard in my ears that I felt as though I’d been sucked into a vacuum of space and time.

Darling,

I hope you’ve enjoyed our little game. We always had so much fun together, but then you got a new partner. Was I so easy to replace?

She was hardly a match for me. I can’t imagine that she’s kept you as entertained as I did. One more move, and I’ll crush her completely. So I’m offering you a chance to take her place before I make my final play. Who do you want me to take off the board: the knight or the pawn? Deliver your response in person at the pond, at 7 o’clock this evening, or the rest of my portfolio will find its way in the hands of people who will lock her up for good. Only one player, please—fair is fair.

-M

My fingers fumbled for the photographs attached to the letter, my brain refusing to process what I should have seen all along. The first was a still of Belle and Nora on the security feed. The next one of Belle sleeping. My blood rose as I spotted my own form next to my wife. I had been right there when it was taking. But the last picture turned my bones to ice: Penny sleeping in her crib.