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“My friends, my sister, is in the city.”
“Then we can move to the apartment.”
“Yeah, but this is a beautiful home, and an apartment isn’t good for all the kids your mother has planned on us having.” Her words are a little barbed, a little annoyed. “It’s not that far to London,” she says finally.
“Sit. My cousin is a doctor and is on her way.”
She does as I ask, taking a seat on the edge of the sectional.
“Your cousin?”
“Gemma.”
“I don’t remember a Gemma at the wedding.”
I’m not sure how to answer this, but I decide the truth will be better. Elena will find out soon enough about my fucked-up family. “She didn’t come.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t like the family.”
“But you’re all so loveable,” she smirks. “Why not?”
“Because my father killed hers.”
Elena takes this information in with a slight twitch of her brows. “Why?”
“Because my father is a selfish prick who takes what he wants, no matter the consequences. Gemma’s mother died not long after she was born. Her father was set to remarry Charlotte. My mother comes from powerful stock. She was a good match.”
I move to the window and peer out over the side garden of the house. There is a long lawn surrounded by gravelled paths and flowerbeds overflowing with colour. I like walking through them, clearing my head of toxic thoughts that dig into my brain.
“My father loved Charlotte the moment he laid eyes on her, and he’s never been a man to be told no. He took what he wanted, and in the process, he left Gemma orphaned. She has never forgiven my father for what he did.”
Elena rubs a hand over the back of her neck as she digests what I’m telling her.
“Hardly surprising.”
“She wants nothing to do with the family, but her skills as a doctor are needed.”
“So, your father kills her father and your family pull her back into your shit every time you need a favour. No wonder she didn’t come to our wedding.”
“Gemma is a Fraser. That name carries obligations. She, as we all do, must do her duty to ensure the family’s survival.”
“You make her stare into the face of the man who destroyed her world every time she comes to you,” Elena says. “That’s cruel, even for our world.”
“It is, but our world is cruel, Elena. It’s the only way to survive in it. Be harder than your enemy.”
She doesn’t respond, so I suspect she knows my words are the truth. She has developed her own hardness because of her circumstances.
“Will your bodyguard be okay?”
“Ford knows how to handle the police.”
“He’s going to have a lot to explain.”
“We have contacts and means. I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be either.”
She sags back against the cushion. “My head is pounding.”
