Page 12 of Fateful Reunion

Grayson glowered back. “What the fuck? I’m not—”

“Aren’t you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Let me give you a piece of advice. Never trust a witch. It’ll only end badly.”

Grayson opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get the chance. Charles and Ilaria appeared, bags in hand. Shooting Roxanne a defiant look, Grayson sauntered toward Ilaria.

“Let me take your bag,” he said, unleashing his devastating smile.

“You go first, we’ll follow in my car in five minutes,” Roxanne instructed, nodding at Zane.

Ilaria cast a questioning look at Charles.

“It’s okay, Ilaria. Go with them. I won’t be far behind,” Charles reassured her.

When the door fell shut behind the three, Roxanne continued staring after them.

She heard him sigh. “Guess that means we have time to talk.”

“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”

“On the contrary.”

She knew he was approaching her from behind even before she felt his hand on her shoulder. She tried to shake it off, but instead he gripped harder and turned her to face him.

“I can feel your hostility. Even your colleagues can sense it. It’ll jeopardize this assignment.”

Annoyance charged through her. “Are you questioning my professionalism?”

“Not for a second, but you deserve to know the truth about what happened that night. It will make things easier.”

“I know what happened that night. You abandoned me. End of story.” Even now, after twenty-three years, it still hurt as much as it had then. But she’d be damned if she’d admit this to Charles.

“I had no choice.”

She scoffed. “Oh please, spare me your excuses. I’m over you.”

“I make no excuses for what I did that night. But I want you to hear me out.”

The pleading tone in his voice made her heart constrict painfully. But she had to remain strong and not fall for his lies again. Because that’s all it would be: more lies to pacify her and to justify what he’d done. She turned back to the door and reached for the knob.

“The night you and I were supposed to leave, my sister Melissa brought Ilaria to me. Ilaria was three months old. Melissa was being chased by witches who had only one goal: to kill her infant daughter, my niece.”

Roxanne hesitated at his words.

“Until that night, I didn’t even know that my sister had given birth. We hadn’t been in touch much. But she needed my help,” he continued, his voice soft and calm. “Ilaria isn’t just the daughter of a witch. She’s special. She was born with the mark.”

Roxanne turned to look at him, her forehead furrowing. He had her attention now. “What mark?”

“A birthmark that identifies her as a very special witch, one that will be more powerful and skilled than others. And therefore feared by those inferior to her. Witches of the mark have been hunted for centuries. There aren’t many left, and those who are, live in hiding. When Melissa realized that Ilaria had the mark, she tried to hide it, but word got out, and she had to go on the run. She came to me that night and begged for my help. Begged me to protect Ilaria.”

Charles ran a hand through his dark hair before continuing. “We were ambushed that night. Several witches had trailed Melissa to my house. We fought them off as best we could, but we knew we were losing the battle. When my sister handed me her daughter and begged me to protect her with my life, I knew what she was about to do. I couldn’t say no.”

Curiosity made her ask. “What did she do?”

“She went outside and fought against them with everything she had, giving me just enough time to escape out the back. She died that night protecting her child. And I’d made a promise to her. A promise I couldn’t break. Ilaria needed me. She was helpless.”

I needed you, too! Roxanne wanted to scream, but clamped her mouth shut.

“I went on the run with her. I never looked back. But I knew they’d never give up until they found her and killed her. I had to keep running.”