“I was the best thing that ever happened to you,” she hisses arrogantly at him. “Look at you now. One of the richest, most successful, entrepreneurs in the US—controlled, driven—you need nothing. You are master of your universe.” He steps back as if he’s been struck and gapes at her in outraged disbelief.
“You loved it, Christian, don’t try and kid yourself. You were on the road to self-de-struction, and I saved you from that, saved you from a life behind bars. Believe me, baby, that’s where you would have ended up. I taught you everything you know, everything you need.”
Christian blanches, staring at her in horror. When he speaks, his voice is low and incredulous.
“You taught me how to fuck, Elena. But it’s empty, like you. No wonder Linc left.” Bile rises in my mouth. I should not be here. But I’m frozen to the spot, morbidly fascinated as they eviscerate each other.
“You never once held me,” Christian whispers. “You never once said you loved me.” She narrows her eyes. “Love is for fools, Christian.”
“Get out of my house.” Grace’s implacable, furious voice startles us. Three heads swing rapidly to where Grace stands on the threshold of the room. She is glaring at Elena, who pales beneath her St. Tropez tan.
Time seems suspended as we collectively take a deep gasping breath, and Grace stalks deliberately into the room. Her eyes blaze with fury, never once leaving Elena, until she stands before her. Elena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Grace slaps her hard across the face, the sound of the impact resounding off the walls of the dining room.
“Take your filthy paws off my son, you whore, and get out of my house—now!” she hisses through gritted teeth.
Elena clutches her reddening cheek and stares in horror for a moment, shocked and blinking at Grace. Then she hurries from the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. Grace turns slowly to face Christian and a tense silence settles like a thick blanket over us as Christian and Grace stare at each other. After a beat, Grace speaks.
“Ana, before I hand him over to you, would you mind giving me a minute or two alone with my son?” Her voice is quiet, husky, but oh-so-strong.
“Of course,” I whisper, and exit as quickly as I can, glancing anxiously over my shoulder. But neither of them look at me as I leave. They continue to stare at each other, their unspoken communication blaringly loud.
In the hallway, I am momentarily lost. My heart pounds and my blood races through my veins . . . I feel panicked and out of my depth. Holy fuck, that was heavy and now Grace knows. Crap. I can’t think what she’s going to say to Christian, and I know it’s wrong, I know, but I lean against the door trying to listen.
“How long, Christian?” Grace’s voice is soft. I can barely hear her.
I cannot hear his reply.
“How old were you?” Her voice is more insistent. “Tell me. How old were you when this all started?” Again I can’t hear Christian.
“Everything okay, Ana?” Ros interrupts me.
“Yes. Fine. Thank you. I . . .”
Ros smiles. “I’m just going to fetch my purse. I need a cigarette.” For a brief moment, I contemplate joining her.
“I’m off to the bathroom.” I need to gather my wits and my thoughts, to process what I’ve just witnessed and heard. Upstairs seems the safest place to be on my own. I watch Ros stroll into the drawing room, and I bolt two stairs at a time to the second floor, then up to the third. There’s only one place I want to be.
I open the door to Christian’s childhood bedroom and shut it behind me, taking a huge gulping breath. Heading for his bed, I flop onto it and stare at the plain white ceiling.
Holy cow. That has to be, without doubt, one of the most excruciating confrontations I’ve ever had to endure, and now I feel numb. My fiancé and his ex-lover—no would-be bride should have to see that. Having said that, part of me is glad she’s revealed her true self, and that I was there to bear witness.
My thoughts turn to Grace. Poor Grace, to hear all that. I clutch one of Christian’s pillows. She’ll have overheard that Christian and Elena had an affair—but not the nature of it. Thank heavens. I groan.
What am I doing? Perhaps the evil witch had a point.
No, I refuse to believe that. She’s so cold and cruel. I shake my head. She’s wrong. I am right for Christian. I am what he needs. And in a moment of stunning clarity, I don’t question
I close my eyes and drape my arm over them. But now he’s moved on, left it behind, and we are both in the light. I’m dazzled by him and he by me. We can guide each other. A thought occurs to me.
