Chapter 194: No More Hesitation
Darrell's POV
After Camila and I got back to the hotel, she fell asleep right away, but I just couldn't get to sleep. I stood in the doorway watching her peaceful form for a moment before quietly closing the bedroom door behind me.
The hotel suite's study felt suffocating. I loosened my tie and sank into the leather chair.
My phone lay on the mahogany desk. That email—Lucian's final poison—sat in my inbox, waiting.
I scrolled to Sable's contact information. My thumb hovered over the call button.
Doesn't she deserve to know the man she married, the father of her child, murdered Isabella Crawford in cold blood?
I picked up the phone.
No more hesitation. No more excuses. She has a right to know.
My finger pressed the call button before I could change my mind.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
On the fourth ring, her voice came through, slightly muzzy.
"Hello?"
"Sable, it's..." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "It's me, Darrell."
A pause. When she spoke again, her tone had shifted—polite but cautious.
"Darrell? This is quite late... is something wrong?"
"I..." The words stuck in my throat like broken glass. "I'm sorry for calling so late. I just... I needed to talk to you about something."
"What is it?"
Direct. No nonsense. That was Sable—always cutting straight to the heart of things.
"Sable, I need to ask you something." I gripped the phone tighter. "About the past. About your mother."
"My mother?" Her voice sharpened immediately. "Darrell, why are you asking about her again? What's this about?"
"Do you... do you remember everything clearly? About how she died?"
"Of course I remember." Suspicion bled into her tone. "Darrell, what exactly are you trying to say?"
My heart hammered against my ribs. "I received some information. About Isabella's real cause of death."
"What information?" The words came out sharp, dangerous.
I closed my eyes. "Four months ago, I got an email. From Lucian."
"Lucian? But he's dead."
"It was a delayed email. Sent after his death." I rushed on before she could interrupt. "Sable, what I'm about to tell you... it's going to be difficult to hear."
"Just say it."
"The email contained details about that war. About what really happened to your mother."
"What are you talking about? My mother died from Rogue poison during the territorial conflict. Everyone knows that."
I pressed my palm against my forehead. "That's not the whole truth."
"Then what is?"
"According to Lucian's email..." I forced the words out. "The person who really killed your mother wasn't a Rogue warrior."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and ominous.
"Darrell." Her voice had gone deadly quiet. "Who are you suggesting killed my mother?"
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The room felt like it was spinning around me.
"Caelan."
Sable's POV
Something crashed to the floor—my water glass, I realized distantly. The sound of shattering ceramic seemed to echo from very far away.
"What did you just say?"
"Sable, I know how this sounds—"
"You're insane." The words ripped from my throat. "You're absolutely insane. How dare you say something like that?"
"I didn't want to believe it either—"
"Believe what? Some fantasy you've concocted because you can't accept that I'm happy?" I was shouting now, my free hand pressed protectively over my belly. "How sick are you, Darrell? How twisted do you have to be to make up lies about my husband killing my mother?"
"I'm not making anything up! The email had details, witnesses—"
"Witnesses?" I laughed, but it sounded hysterical even to my own ears. "You mean Lucian? The psychopath who spent months trying to destroy our lives? That's your reliable source?"
"Sable, please just listen—"
"No! I won't listen to another word of this poison!" My voice cracked with fury. "Caelan would never hurt anyone innocent. He could never harm my mother. The idea is completely insane!"
"But what if it's true? What if you have a right to know—"
"Know what? Some delusional fantasy?" I struggled to catch my breath. "Darrell, I can't believe you're doing this. I'm pregnant with his child, we just got married, and you're trying to destroy my family with lies?"
"They're not lies! Why would Lucian fabricate something like this when he was already dying?"
"Because he was evil! Because destroying people was what he lived for!" Tears of rage streamed down my face. "And apparently you're just like him!"
"Sable—"
"You're jealous! That's what this is really about, isn't it?" The accusation burst out of me. "You can't stand that I chose him over you, so you're making up the most horrible story you can think of!"
"That's not—"
"It is! You're so pathetic, Darrell. So desperate and pathetic that you'd accuse my husband of murdering my mother just to break us up!"
My hands shook so violently I could barely hold the phone.
"I don't want to hear another word from you. Don't call me, don't text me, don't come near me or my family ever again!"
I ended the call.
The silence that followed felt deafening.
This can't be happening. This can't be real.
My phone buzzed against. A text notification. I checked it. A message from Darrell with an attachment.
I'm forwarding you the email. I wish this wasn't real, but you deserve to see it for yourself.
I stared at the screen, my finger hovering over the attachment.
Don't open it. Delete it. Pretend this never happened.
But my treacherous hand moved anyway. The email opened.