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“Why? Did she run out of money?” I wince at his harsh yet softly-spoken question while his sister traces her fork over her cake. “She called me a week ago. Not sure how she found my number.”
“She started therapy a few years back and wishes to apologize in person. She wants to see her grandchildren too.” A hollow laughter slips past her lips that hurts my soul for how much pain it holds. “Her audacity never stops to astonish me.”
“She probably did run out of money, after all,” Octavius replies cynically, sipping his coffee. “I gave her one billion and some shares in various companies. She should be set for life, but I won’t be surprised if her lover screwed her over. She knows how to pick them.”
We share a long look with Ryder because the tension between the siblings escalates, and I hate how I have no idea what’s going on, but she probably was a very shitty mother for them to react this way.
Besides it’s a little too late. Both her children are grown, and now she wants to reconnect? I can’t blame them for being suspicious.
“She claims she has changed. I don’t believe her. People like her don’t change. She still plans a trip here and hopes we can all have dinner sometime.”
Octavius places his cup on the table with a loud rattle. “I won’t meet her. Ever. If you want to—”
“Why would I?” Now she’s the one fuming with anger.
“She’s your mother.” He shrugs, although it seems he really musters up all his control in order to suggest this. “Maybe you have questions to ask her. I understand if you want closure.” Judging by his tone, he won’t understand, though, and says it only for his sister’s sake.
“She’s never been a mother to me.” She casts her eyes in shame while swallowing hard, and Ryder puts his hand above hers. “Maybe if it wasn’t for me, she’d be a better mom to you. What if you’re the one who needs closure?” A beat passes. “Don’t you have questions?”
Now fury joins the tension, and Octavius gets up while Ryder does the same. “That woman has no idea what being a mother means. Never say stupid shit like this again, Estella. You’re not responsible for their inability to be good human beings.” He walks around the table and leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Let’s end this conversation.” He straightens up. “If she calls again, just ignore her, and if she shows up uninvited, I’ll deal with her. She’ll stop once I threaten to take away the shares. If there is one thing this woman loves above anything else, it’s her lifestyle.” He walks off into the terrace as the kids squeal around him, jumping on him. Ryder follows him, patting Estella on the shoulder and leaving us both alone in the wake of this rather unpleasant conversation.
Because despite everything, I could see Octavius hurting, and somehow, this information rubbed old wounds.
“He always does that.” I meet Estella’s eyes. “Bottles up his emotions and just finds an outlet for them in a different way. He never speaks about his pain.” She bites on her lower lip. “Because no one cared about it for such a long time.”
“He hasn’t shared much about his childhood.” Bits and pieces don’t really allow me to paint the whole picture in my head about what shaped him into the man he is today.
“It’s not something either of us likes to talk about.” She dips her fork in the cake and lifts it to her mouth. “You know our family history? How our mother married two men from the same family?” She munches on the cake at my nod. “Pamela loved Octavius’s dad and tolerated mine because he provided her with the lifestyle she desired. Father couldn’t forgive her for it but took his anger out on Octavius. According to some, she was a loving mother before I was born. She stopped being one, though, the minute Wayne forbade it. Which makes me think she wasn’t one in the first place.”
“All the scars that he has…”
She swallows hard again, a raspy breath escaping her, and she drops her fork. “Yeah. My father did that. Years and years of abuse.” Tears form in my eyes, but I hold them back, although my chest aches at the idea of anyone hurting Octavius like this in his own house. There is no greater betrayal and hurt than facing agony in the place that’s supposed to be your sanctuary and from the people who were supposed to love you. “And he accepted it all. Because of me,” she finishes on a whisper.
So much guilt drips from her words, and I shake my head. “You were just a child, Estella.”
“I was what kept him inside these walls. If it weren’t for me, he’d be free to go live with the Price family. Wayne always found a way to blackmail him with me. Even the scar on his cheek…he got it because he was protecting me.” She wipes away her tears. “My brother has a heart of gold, Isla. So I’m asking you not to do anything that might hurt him, because if you do…” The unspoken threat lingers in the air, and I resist the urge to grin. I’m starting to think that’s how all these people show their love toward their families.
“I’m not going to. Not intentionally, at least.” Some tension eases out of her. “You’re right. Your brother has a heart of gold.” She gives me a tentative smile, grabbing her fork again, but stills when I add, “Because he had you while growing up.” She blinks in surprise. “I think you were his reason to live in this hell and what kept him going. His humanity, kindness, and sense of honor…he has them all because of you.” A beat passes. “And Florian who seems to be the annoying third wheel in this relationship right now.”
She laughs, and finally, the sadness is gone from her eyes, replaced by amusement. “Yes. Florian is a bonus you get when you marry my brother.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “It’s impossible to get rid of him.”
Oh, I’m going to like Estella.
“Lucky me,” I deadpan, earning myself more laughter, and in this moment, I can almost forget about the serial killer wanting to kill me and enjoy this opportunity destiny has granted me.
For the first time in years or maybe ever…I’m happy.
And that’s equally exciting and scary.
Because what can bring me happiness…can easily be taken away.
Especially when a person is set on hurting me.
Octavius
Owls hoot, accompanied by the sound of crickets chirping in the distance, while the wind caresses my skin as I step out on the terrace and breathe in the fresh air, welcoming the coldness.
Dark clouds gathering together almost hide the stars marring the sky, matching the chaotic whirlpool consuming my soul right now, and I grin when a yowl echoes in the space. “Lampos,” I call, going farther, and my bare feet curl into the grass. “Come here.”
