AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘No.’The word fell like a sword, heavy and edged and lethal. ‘You think I can excuse myself simply because I was fifteen? Everyone knew there were traffickers about in our neighbourhood—it was common gossip. Do you think I took any notice? No, I didn’t.’ He spat out a curse in Greek then, rough and guttural, and ripped his hand from hers. ‘I was her older brother and I should have protected her, and there is no forgiveness for my failure. None at all.’
The warmth of his fingers in hers lingered on her skin, but the pain of his withdrawal stung. She didn’t know what to say or how to help him, because she’d never suffered a loss like he had, not something so terrible. It was true that she’d lost her parents but that was an old grief, and not one she’d ever blamed herself for the way he had.
You have something to offer him though.
Glory took a breath as realisation came to her. Because yes, she did. She might be a plain, ordinary checkout girl, but there was one thing that she was that he wasn’t.
She was someone’s little sister.
She braced herself, then met his gaze and held it, blinking back her tears. ‘Your sister would forgive you. And she wouldn’t want you punishing yourself. It would have broken her heart if she knew you’d spent the last twenty years torturing yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault to begin with.’
His eyes blazed with sudden fury. ‘What would you know about it? What would you know about what she would and wouldn’t have done? Ismena wasn’t your sister. She was mine!’
Glory didn’t look away. ‘What would I know? I know that I would have done anything to make Annabel’s life better. Because watching my older sister run herself into the ground trying to take care of me just about broke my heart.’ The tears she’d been holding back suddenly spilled out, running down her cheeks, but she didn’t stop them. ‘And if I was Ismena, that’s exactly how I’d feel, watching you suffer for something you shouldn’t take the blame for.’
He stared at her for a long moment, the anger dying out of his eyes, leaving behind it that terrible bleakness, that terrible grief. ‘I don’t know,’ he said roughly, ‘why you’d even care.’
Glory swallowed. ‘Why? Because I’m in love with you.’
He’d thought, that after the last twenty years, he’d got rid of the last remnants of his own heart. But apparently he was wrong, because looking into Glory’s eyes, he could feel the remains of it tearing itself apart.
He let it though, let it tear itself to pieces in his chest. Because he didn’t want it. Love was another threat to his mission, another weakness he couldn’t afford. Love was nothing but recrimination and grief and twenty years of grinding sorrow, and he didn’t want anything to do with it.
Even her love?
Castor ignored the thought. There was no point in continuing this conversation and dragging this whole process out. He’d made his decision and it didn’t matter if Glory didn’t like it, just as it didn’t matter what she felt for him.
He’d said goodbye in that room in the Musée d’Orsay, he’d taken his last fill of her, and now it was over.
Why? There is an alternative, you know. Your life doesn’t have to be all about the mission.
A ridiculous thought. His life wasonlythe mission. His sister demanded justice and he would give it to her somehow. Otherwise what would be the point of the past twenty years?
Castor stared at the warm, lovely woman sitting opposite; she wasn’t so ordinary after all, and never had been. He felt...nothing. An echoing coldness in his chest where his heart had once been. It was comforting.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said flatly. ‘That is not my problem.’ He turned, hit the button on the intercom. ‘Stop the car.’
Glory took a shaken breath. ‘Castor...’
The limo came to a stop.
‘Castor, please.’
He found himself pulling at his tie, trying to get some air, because it felt as if he could hardly breathe.
Already this whole scene had gone on too long. It was time to bring it to an end.
Ignoring her, Castor opened the door, got out and strode away.
He didn’t return to the mansion that night. Instead he took the jet to London, then spent a week at his company’s London office, before crossing the Atlantic to New York. His staff informed him that Glory was still in Paris, which was fine. He told them to keep him posted.
Then he got the invite he’d been waiting for to an exclusive party thrown by the inner circle of the group he’d been trying to infiltrate. Apparently rumours of his wedding had been circulating and there had been ‘approval’ from certain quarters.
He would get his meeting.
Castor told himself he was pleased since obviously marrying her had been a good thing, but no matter the emptiness in the centre of his chest, the dread wouldn’t leave him. He put extra men in the security team he still had watching her, already going over plans for how he could take her out of range of the people he was dealing with.
Somehow, he would do it. He was the one who’d put her in danger by dragging her into this mess, and so he would be the one who would protect her.
