Chapter 52 No Feelings
ALISTAIR
"Emily," I say, a sharp frown pulling at my brow. "Do not let your head get confused. We have an agreement. Do not develop any inappropriate feelings for me."
Her smile falters slightly, but she does not look away.
"I already have someone I like," I tell her, making sure the words land with absolute clarity. "Keep your focus on your goals."
I fully expect her to look embarrassed or defensive.
Emily’s bright smile does not falter for a single second. She actually laughs. It is a clear, ringing sound that bounces off the mahogany walls of the bedroom and I oddly find myself liking the sound of it.
She waves a hand in the air, dismissing my serious warning like a minor annoyance.
"Alistair, please do not worry," Emily says, her dark eyes shining with pure amusement. She doesn’t look sad or angry or embarrassed. "I admire you."
For some reason, that makes my heart skip, but she’s not done speaking.
"I admire you the way someone admires a very successful CEO or a rock star or a celebrity. You are an idol to me. There’s so much I can learn from you and I’d always appreciate that. I know exactly where I stand. We live in two completely different worlds. I know our contract is just a business arrangement. I have a lot of self-awareness and there’s no way I’d start to like you romantically. You have nothing to worry about."
The words are clear, logical, and exactly what I want to hear. She is focused on her cardiology formula and her financial independence. She is not expecting a fairy tale romance.
So why does the air in the room suddenly feel incredibly stale?
A strange, heavy discomfort settles right in the center of my ribs. She views me as a temporary employer and a tactical shield. I should be completely satisfied with her attitude. Instead, I feel a sudden, sharp spike of irritation. I push the feeling down immediately, refusing to examine the source of the frustration.
I’m happy this is just a contract to her. I don’t have to feel weird about that. I’m happy. This is a good thing.
I walk over to the large leather armchair near the window and sit down. I lean back, resting my boots on the carpet.
"Let us change the subject," I say, smoothing the lapel of my bathrobe. "Leo sent me the security footage from what happened this afternoon."
Her eyes widen and she bites her lip looking nervous. I’m sure she’s expecting a scolding, especially after my actions just a few minutes ago.
"You’re not in trouble," I say. "You handled the situation at the pizza shop very well."
Before her smile can fully form, I continue.
"However, I know Silas Hunt and his reputation. The man is a local street thug with solid backing from the regional syndicates. He will not walk away from a public humiliation and I’m sure you know this."
"I do," Emily says. "I have firsthand experience of the kind of things he’s capable of."
I nod. "So, do you need my help resolving this?"
Emily pauses. She looks at the black pistol resting on the nightstand, then turns back to me.
"I have already investigated his identity," I continue, keeping my tone flat and professional. "I know all his weaknesses and the strings I need to pull to make him back down. Taking Silas Hunt off the board is a matter of a single word for me. I can make him disappear before sunrise and you won’t have to worry about him again."
Emily shakes her head. She squares her shoulders, her small frame standing tall in the center of the room. "I politely decline the offer, Alistair. If you don’t mind and if you’d let me, I want to handle Silas Hunt myself."
I cock my head. "Why?"
"I can’t rely on you to solve every single problem I face."
I frown, resting my elbows on my knees. I want to help her and protect her because she’s my wife and it’s my duty to do so. I don’t want her or our child hurt in any way. But I also want to see exactly how she plans to dismantle a syndicate leader without any money or muscle. She seems confident that she can do it and with the things she has done so far, I’m inclined to believe her.
I sigh and nod. "I will sit back and watch how you resolve it, then."
The smile she gives me after my statement makes me feel strangely good.
"Thank you for trusting me," she says. I really don’t know what’s going on with me these days but I know I need to get my head straight.
EMILY
The loud, shrill ringing of my cell phone cuts through the quiet tension in the master bedroom.
I walk over to the small writing desk and pick up the device. An unknown number flashes against the bright screen.
I look at it for a few seconds wondering who would be calling me at this time. After a few seconds, I press the green answer button and lift the phone to my ear.
"Hello?" I say.
"Emily," a rough, sleazy voice answers.
The smell of cheap tobacco and stale beer instantly floods my memory. I know the voice. Silas Hunt.
"How did you get this number?" I ask, keeping my voice perfectly steady.
"I have my ways," Silas sneers over the line. "Actually, I’m sitting on a very comfortable leather sofa right now. Your father has a lovely home."
My blood runs completely cold. A loud, booming voice erupts in the background, entirely drowning out Silas’s sinister chuckle.
"Emily!" Thomas Vance roars into the receiver. "You ungrateful wretch! You get back to this house right this instant! You are going to get on your knees and kowtow to Silas! Do you have any idea who you offended today?"
I pull the phone a few inches away from my ear. The familiar, toxic voices of my family spill into the quiet bedroom. Alistair watches me from his armchair. His dark eyes track every single shift in my facial expression.
"You are always trying to drag the whole family down with you!" Lydia Vance shrieks. Her shrill voice cuts right through the tiny speaker. "You ruin every good opportunity we build! Silas was a perfectly good match for you. It wasn’t enough that you rejected him but now you had to humiliate him. What on earth is wrong with you!"
Chloe chimes in right behind her mother. "You’re just a cheap burden, Emily! Come back and fix the mess you made!"
The noise is a chaotic chorus of the abuse I endured for years in that house. I’m reminded of the storage room and the days I spent there. A few weeks ago, this phone call would have reduced me to a shaking, terrified mess. Today, listening to their screaming, I feel absolutely nothing. I stopped feeling fear towards my family or any kind of longing for them.
My goal is total independence. I just need to get my new cardiology formula licensed with Dr. Aris and build my own financial fortress. The Vance family means nothing to me now. Not my cheating boyfriend or my heartless stepsister. Not my spineless dad or my overbearing stepmother. They might as well be strangers yelling on a piece of plastic.
Silas takes the phone back, his voice thick with arrogant satisfaction. "You hear that, Emily? Your family knows the rules. Come back here, apologize properly, and maybe I’ll let you walk away with both of your legs."
I look at the dark night sky outside the glass window.
"Silas," I say, keeping my tone completely cold and even. "Don’t you remember what I told you at the Pizza shop? Did you think I was joking? If you can somehow bring ruin to the entire Vance family, I will have to thank you properly. Have a wonderful night."
I press the red button. I hold down the power switch until the screen goes completely black, cutting off the connection.
The heavy silence returns to the room.
Alistair leans back in the leather chair. He observes me with a calculating, sharp expression.
"You can ignore Thomas and Lydia Vance," Alistair says, his deep voice filling the large space. "You clearly cut those ties. But Silas is not going to stop at your family. You can’t ignore Aunt Cherry and her daughter. You realize that they would be in greater danger now because of what happened. Silas would do anything."
I freeze. He’s right. It’s not just my life on the line.
"Silas is a predator," Alistair continues, spelling out the exact reality of the situation. "It’s only a matter of time before he tracks them down. You won’t be so carefree when he finds them."
The casual confidence drains right out of my body. My posture stiffens, and a grave expression settles over my face. Alistair is entirely right. I told Aunt Cherry to hide, but Silas has informants all over the city. If he hurts that kind woman or her daughter because of me, I will never forgive myself.
The stakes are far higher than my own personal pride.
I set my jaw, looking directly into Alistair’s dark eyes. "I won’t give Silas the chance to find them. I am dealing with him before he takes another step."
"I will wait and see," Alistair replies, his tone completely neutral.
I turn away from him, walking quickly toward the massive walk-in closet. I step inside and pull the heavy wooden door shut. The latch clicks securely, plunging the small space into dim, quiet shadows that smell strongly of cedar and expensive cologne.
The absolute second I am out of Alistair’s sight, my forced confidence crumbles into dust. I lean my back against the smooth mahogany drawers, sliding down until I sit flat on the soft carpet. I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my forehead against my arms.
How am I going to stop a syndicate leader? I have the Nightblade pistol, but I can’t start a violent war on the city streets. I need leverage. I need a concrete plan to dismantle his protection racket from the inside.
I scroll through the contacts in my mind, searching for a single person with the resources to help me gather intelligence on Silas Hunt.
The only person from my past with those kinds of legal and political connections is Julian Thorne.
A bitter, dry smile pulls at my lips. Julian betrayed me. He threw me aside for Chloe and broke our engagement. The idea of asking my ex-boyfriend for a favor turns my stomach completely. I would rather crawl back into the bedroom and beg Alistair for help than ask Julian for a single scrap of information.
I spend the entire night sitting on the closet floor. My mind races through dozens of failed strategies, the cold reality of Silas’s threat keeping me wide awake.
I never expect the problem to be unexpectedly solved the very next day.