Present Day
Logan
I give directions and ease back in the seat, clutching my rose like a gold ticket. My invitation back into Daphne’s world. Back to where we began.
So much has happened, though. It’s not like we can just go backwards. Just because her father died, am I just supposed to forget the pictures…the betrayal?
But maybe, for one night, none of that matters.
She shouldn’t be alone. What did Armand mean by that? Is she… I shake my head. Daphne isn’t like my mom.
But when the driver pulls up to Thornhill, it’s dark. No light in the windows. Including the ones I broke.
Shards of glass line my throat when I think of Daphne seeing how I smashed her childhood home.
“Should I wait, sir?” the driver asks.
“No. Come back in the morning.” Even if Daphne isn’t here, I’ll stay. I’ll spend the night in the only place that ever felt like home…and then only for one night. Because I was with her.
The floorboards creak and puffs of dust rise like ghosts. I turn in a circle, remembering when this place was beautiful. I never should’ve bought it. I ruin everything I touch.
“Daphne,” I whisper. The stairs groan under my weight. But then I see it—a flicker of light in the far corner of the house.
In her old room. Of course.
“Hello? Daphne?”
“In here,” she calls.
I rush down the rest of the hall and stand dumbfounded in the door. Daphne stands in the light of a single candle. The weak flame casts more shadows than light, emphasizing the dirty smudges on her face and furrows of exhaustion under her eyes.
She looks so beautiful.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” she waves a hand around her dark and dank room. She’s taken the curtains I ripped down and made a bed in the corner. Next to it is a table with a broken leg, propped up with books, that holds the candle. “It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got, for now.”
She’s grinning.
“Daphne...are you okay?” She shouldn’t be alone, Armand had said. With everything that’s happened, has she suffered a mental break?
“Never better.”
I cross to her, reach out to touch her flushed cheek, but my finger hovers in the air. “You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine. I was cuddled up with some of these fine curtains before I heard you.”
I’m already removing my overcoat. “Let’s get you warm.”
“No more trials? No more labors of Hercules?” she murmurs as she lets me wrap her in the dark wool. It drapes around her like over-sized wizard robes.
“No. No more games.” This time, I do touch her face. Her skin is cold, but not as bad as I thought. “What are you doing here?”
“Here? Well…” she laughs, her head falling back, which makes her hair cascade in a lush black waterfall. She looks so carefree, it’s freaking me out. Especially when she continues, “Dad’s estate is in probate. My townhouse was actually a perk of working at Belladonna so now that I’m no longer there, I don’t have a—”
“Wait...you’re not at Belladonna?”
“Nope.” Her head tilts to the side as she stares at me. “Where have you been? Didn’t you see the news?”
I could hardly miss it. The business newspapers in particular reported her termination as CEO with glee. “I thought they’d just demote you.”
“Oh no, they were real thorough about throwing me out.” She doesn’t seem concerned. She squats and pulls up the over-sized sleeve so she can rustle around in a half empty knapsack lying beside her makeshift bed.
A few seconds later, she holds up a protein bar. “Hercules bar? They’re actually pretty good. They have ten times the daily dosage of every vitamin, which is overkill and might possibly make a person sick, but I can’t resist the ones dipped in chocolate.”
She studies the bodybuilder on the package. “You know, if the reclusive dom gig doesn’t work out for you, you could probably model for this company— ”
“Daphne! What happened? Why are you—” I look around at the shambles of her dark room.
“Living like a homeless person in my former home?” She doesn’t lose that light-hearted smile. “Well, when did we last speak? Oh yeah, the night you walked out on me because someone drugged me and took photos of me half-nekkid. The night before my dad died.”
Her matter-of-fact tone doesn’t stop each statement from slamming into me like a bullet. Drugged her? What the—
“Our relationship is super fucked up, Logan,” she adds, and smacks her lips as she eats the chocolate bar. “But,” her voice softens. “I’m glad you’re not wearing the mask. I saw you at the funeral without it.”
“Enough.” I growl before she continues in this ridiculous vein and compliments my neck beard. “Daphne, nothing’s changed between us. Tell me why I should trust you.”
“Oh, so now you’re willing to listen?” she raises a brow.
I swallow. “I was wrong. I should’ve listened before.”
“Yes, you should’ve,” she says, settling cross-legged on the pile of curtains. “From the very start and every time afterwards, you should’ve listened to me before flying off the handle. I know I didn’t handle things well and you had reasons for your questions. Good reasons. But I didn’t deserve what you did to me.”
“You liked everything I did—
She waves a hand impatiently. “I’m not talking about all that. I did love that. I do. I love everything you’ve given me. The truth is, Logan, I love you.”
She loves me. Bright sunshine bursts inside my chest even as a voice in the back of my mind screams, can’t trust her, can’t trust her, can’t trust—
“But part of becoming the woman you’ve helped me discover, is that I refuse to be treated badly. I’ve done everything in my power to prove my devotion and loyalty. But it’s never enough. You’ll always believe outside voices over mine. I was drugged, my privacy violated, and you believed my accusers over me. Do you know what that feels like?”
Just like that, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. I never even thought about that before and—
“Remember that night in the labyrinth?” she continues relentlessly. “Remember what happened to me?”
I crouch down to get closer to her level, and also because I don’t feel so steady on my feet as the pieces come together. “You fainted. You were drugged.”
She touches her forehead with a finger and flicks at me. Much like Armand did. Have they been hanging out?
Jealousy snarls through me but I push it aside to process what she’s saying. “You were drugged.” I can’t believe I didn’t guess it before now. Maybe I am as slow as Armand insinuated.
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’. “You get one guess as to who did it.”
“Adam.” I straighten in the doorway. My hands come up as if grabbing an imaginary man to rip apart. “I'll kill him.” I told myself I was going to that engagement party to protect her but all I did was leave her vulnerable. All I could see was my stupid revenge and he, he—