She giggles and lights up again. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later.” Daria bustles into a shop front and up the stairs to her apartment that’s above the florist. I walk several more blocks until I get to my building and check my mail in the cluster box. There’s nothing but bills and one larger envelope. It’s addressed to me without a return address.
My stomach sinks. Someone found me. I have so many enemies that I lost count. I take the stairs two at a time, unlock my door and bolt lock it the second I’m inside. I rip open the envelope and find a… birth announcement. Drew Astor had a baby. Five years ago. It’s a girl. She was seven pounds one ounce and twenty inches long. She has brown curls and her mother’s nose. It’s hard to tell if she looks like Riley at all. Newborn photos all look the same. Small, squishy, alien-like creatures. Drew and Riley wouldn’t give her the Astor last name off the bat. It would be too dangerous. The chances of me finding any trace of her now is slim to none.
I lose my breath as I scan the next line. Her name is Wyatt.
There’s another folded-up piece of paper taped to the announcement. It’s a copy of a news article and obituaries for two people. Bethany is dead. She was killed in a murder-suicide, and a fire took her house all the way down to the slab. I sit down on the balcony that overlooks the street out front and read every word of it. It’s not until I get to the end when they mention a suicide note that contained evidence of a heinous crime she committed in years prior that I know exactly what happened.
Holding my head in my hands, I try to comprehend that even though my plans to rid the world of Bethany failed time and time again, Drew was able to do what I couldn’t. She not only found her, but she also crafted a plan so effortlessly that no one questioned the aftermath. A true Astor. A shiver of pride races up my body and is replaced by anger. When I think of Drew, mostly I feel rage at what she endured over the course of our affair. She had a baby, something she’s longed for since the pregnancy was taken by her grandmother. Drew Astor is the most powerful person in the Astor family now. I take heart knowing the baby will be well taken care of.
After I read the announcement again, I start to math out when she fell pregnant because that’s always been a concern. When she was held in The Ring and was being poked and prodded to be readied for sale, they take out all contraceptive measures. Something I didn’t know at the time, of course, but after years of researching by any means possible, I learned this is standard protocol. Pinching the bridge of my nose.
“They knew the night of the fight,” I whisper. “Riley knew and didn’t tell me.”
It wouldn’t have changed the outcome had he told me. He deserves the fairy tale, as sick and gritty as it may be. She was always only his. Consistency is Drew’s love language. I was only the messenger. I tuck everything back into the faded pink envelope and lock it in a small safe I keep next to my bed. I’ll burn it another day after I’ve soaked it in some more. I boil some water for tea, and nearly burn myself with hot water because I can’t focus. The only thing that can distract me is painting. My studio is in the back of my small apartment. It was the bedroom, but I needed the natural lighting. There’s a canvas set up in the size of the commissioned piece, ready and waiting.
Painting doesn’t clear my mind like one would think. I paint when it’s so full, I might die if I don’t get some of it out. I don’t paint Wyatt anymore, and I rarely paint people because it’s a risk I’m not willing to take. There’s a price for everything in life, and some are steeper than others. Closing my eyes, I picture her face the way she was before. I paint her happy smile. Her wonder at small things. A glimmer in her eye. A silent promise of unconditional love. Something I’ve never experienced until she crashed into my world. I wasted her.
I thought I was incapable of love. Revenge was always stronger. With distance and knowledge, I see how wrong I was. When Drew’s face is near completion, hours later, Daria calls to tell me she’s on the way over. Stepping back, I admire her face, not my work, and emotion wells inside me. Grabbing the tube of black paint, I squeeze a large amount on the top and erase Drew in a thick swatch of black. She vanishes a little at a time. I leave the eyes for last. With one more stroke, her sparkling gaze is dark. A lump in my throat steals my breath. Tossing my brush onto my cart, I answer the door.
Daria holds a coffee out to me. “I brought fuel,” she says, kissing my cheek on each side.
“Thank you,” I say, trying on a smile I don’t feel.
“What are you painting tonight?” She moves to the balcony to light up and I follow.
Sipping the coffee, I look over the horizon. “A surreal night piece for a client in the States.”Beautiful girl.
Except, I don’t feel like painting anymore. Revenge rears again, and this time it might be stronger than before. A realization dawns. When you love someone, the only way to show it is revenge. There’s nothing wrong with me, no. The rest of the world is fucked up. Drew showed me she loved me by getting rid of Bethany—avenging Wyatt’s death. I will return the favor by doing something near impossible. I will take out The Ring. I will infiltrate them as Gabriel Marks, a high-end surrealist painter and I will disassemble it from the outside in.
I finish the painting knowing it will be the last one before I start this life’s mission. This isn’t a love story. No, this is a story about hate. Malice that masquerades as a second chance and then a third chance, and the depths of depravity one takes to protect what’s theirs.
Epilogue
Drew
I cried more than Wyatt did when I dropped her off at school. School being a separate building on our upstate property. She’s not safe in public now that she’s old enough to be recognized.
“You doing okay, mama?” Callie asks. She is Wyatt’s nanny because she’s one of the people I trust most in life. She’s been there through everything. She’s pregnant now, and I know I’ll need to find a replacement when her baby arrives. Reggie walks behind us, like he always does, giving us space for girl talk, but mostly he’s watching the tree line at all angles.
“I know she’s going to be fine. She was so excited this morning. It will be weird not to have a shadow though. Red will be with her all day so I’m not worried, but what if she misses me?” Red is Wyatt’s guard. He was a gangly red-headed teen I saved from the streets in Mexico. Now he’s one of my most trusted and loyal guards. It helps that Wyatt is obsessed with him.
Callie rubs her stomach. “Babe, she’s not going to miss you. How much work do you have to catch up on? You’ll be so busy you won’t have time to miss her.” She exhales. “How about we walk over and peek in the window at lunchtime?”
I laugh. “See, you’re as bad as me!”
She grins, hugging me from the side. “Sue me. My appointment is in an hour, and I want to shower first. I’ll see you at lunch, k babe?”
I hug her back and enter the mansion from the back by the pool. A maid greets me, bowing as I close the door. I tip my head back. “Which office is Mr. Astor in?”
She directs me to the East Wing office, and I set off to where he’s in a meeting. He gets up before the sun to take meetings and work, but thankfully he’s no longer out all night. It’s also too dangerous for him as the head of the family. Both his parents were killed a year ago when their private plane crashed into a side of a mountain. It was blamed on harsh conditions, but we know better. The pilot, who ejected before impact, had loose ties to the Mexican cartel. It was a painful year for Riley. He didn’t have anyone who he could be weak with other than me. The family is a business first, but they were his parents and he loved them the way any boy would love their mom and dad. Riley was broken, but I put him back together. I’ll always put him back together regardless of how many times he falls apart.
His assistant is sitting at the small desk outside the office. “Ma’am, he’ll be finished in fifteen minutes. I’ll tell him you called.”
I nod. “Thank you. Tell him I’ll be in the living quarters.” He frowns but writes down my message. Typically, once we leave our quarters, we’re out the rest of the day, but because Wyatt isn’t with me, I’m feeling sorry for myself. I could go to Chaz, who has her own section of the manse where she lives half the year, but I don’t want company right now.
Walking into Wyatt’s room, I pick up a white stuffed bunny from the center of the floor and hug it to my chest. The fuzz on the top of its head has been cut. Wyatt might be a little more me than we all once thought. She looks exactly like her father. I sit down on the chaise by her oversized window and clutch the rabbit for dear life as I look at the paintings on her wall. On the left is the one Jesse painted with the mess of words. Some of the first words I ever read. Another is by an artist in Spain. It was given to me by Riley as a gift. It’s a black night sky but the stars are a strange color. A beautiful color. The color of Wyatt’s eyes. When I look at the painting, I feel small, sad, and grateful. I put the two paintings together because they make me feel things. They force me to remember, even if it’s painful. Mostly because it’s painful. My life is gilded. It’s hard to remember the time that came before this lavish, secure lifestyle. These paintings bring me right back, every time. People talk about endings like they’re a dreadful thing. An ending is what brought me solace and peace. I wipe at a tear and bring the bunny up to inhale deeply. Riley comes into the room. “I thought I might find you here. How are you holding up? Did she cry when you left her at the schoolhouse?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I almost wished she would. I homeschooled her for three years, and all I got is a wave and bye, Mom.” I laugh. “The school building was a good decision. It gives her a little normalcy.”