Chapter 165
Sawyer looked up, a little surprised. "What made you suddenly want to practice shooting?"
"Nothing better to do anyways,," Elizabeth said, her tone casual. "And didn't you say I inherited Father's talent? It'd be a waste not to use it."
Sawyer studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled.
"Fine. I'll teach you."
Starting that day, Sawyer carved out two hours every afternoon to take her to the shooting range behind the castle. His marksmanship really was excellent—his movements were clean and precise, and he could hit the bull's-eye almost without even taking aim.
As he instructed her, he showed patience, guiding her hands to adjust her posture and carefully explaining the characteristics and proper use of each firearm.
"You really do have talent." One time, while watching Elizabeth hit the bull's-eye over and over, he couldn't help but praise her. "Besides your father, I've never seen a second person like you."
Elizabeth put the gun down and wiped the sweat from her forehead,"You've seen Father shoot?"
Sawyer's gaze dimmed. "I have. He never hesitated when he killed," He paused, then looked at Elizabeth. "You don't hesitate either. In that way, you're like him."
Elizabeth said nothing. Of course, she didn't hesitate. She had already died once in her previous life; in this one, there was nothing left to be afraid of.
Besides shooting, Sawyer also taught her hand-to-hand combat. He was even better at that than at shooting—his moves were swift and ruthless, every strike potentially fatal. Yet when he trained her, he was gentle, holding back his strength, clearly afraid of hurting her.
"Your reflexes are fast, but you don't have enough power," he said as he demonstrated, moving with effortless control. "When you run into someone who relies on brute force, don't go head-to-head. Look for weak spots. Eyes, throat, groin—those areas, one hit can take them down."
Elizabeth took it seriously, memorizing every move, every adjustment he made.
Sometimes Jack would come to the range too. Sawyer had a child-sized bow and arrow set prepared for him and taught him personally. The kid's talent was frighteningly good; in just a few days, he could already hit the target.
"Attaboy," Sawyer ruffled his hair, genuine admiration in his voice. "You've got the same talent your mom does."
Jack tipped his little face up, his eyes crescent-shaped from smiling,"Uncle Sawyer, am I awesome?"
"You are," Sawyer crouched down so they were eye level and looked at him seriously. "You're even better than Uncle Sawyer was when he was little."
Elizabeth stood off to the side, watching them, and a wave of emotion she couldn't name suddenly rose in her chest. Jack and Sawyer had grown close far too quickly. So quickly it scared her.
That night, when Elizabeth was tucking Jack into bed, she couldn't help asking, "Jack, do you like Uncle Sawyer?"
Jack nodded, his eyes bright,"Yeah! Uncle Sawyer's really good to Jack. He bought Jack a bunch of toys and taught Jack how to shoot arrows. He said—"
He stopped, his little face turning oddly serious. "He said when he dies, he'll leave everything to Jack."
Elizabeth's breath caught for a second. "What did he say?"
"He said he doesn't have kids and he's not going to have kids. So his money, his house, everything he has will all be Jack's someday." Jack yawned, rolled over, his voice getting softer and softer. "Uncle Sawyer said it's a secret, I can't tell anyone. Mom, don't tell Uncle Sawyer I told you, okay?"
He fell asleep quickly after that.
Elizabeth sat at the edge of the bed, looking at Jack's sleeping face, and inside her, the calm surface of her thoughts broke into crashing waves.
Sawyer had said he had no children and wouldn't have children. He had said everything of his would one day belong to Jack. He had said it was a secret.
Was he serious? Did he really see himself as Jack's Uncle, as her brother? Or was this just another trap?
She didn't know.
She only knew that Jack was leaning on Sawyer more and more, trusting Sawyer more and more. If one day she had to take Jack and leave, would the child still be willing to go with her? She didn't know.
The next day, Elizabeth went to find Sawyer and asked him directly, "When you say you won't have children, what do you mean?"
Sawyer was in his study, going through paperwork. At her words, he lifted his head and looked at her. He was silent for a long time before he finally spoke, his voice very soft,"Elizabeth, there are some things you're better off not knowing."
"I want to know."
Sawyer held her gaze, something complicated flickering in his eyes. Then he set his pen down, leaned back in his chair, and stared up at the ceiling, as if reaching for some distant memory. "When I was fifteen, my fourth brother's people drugged me. The kind of drug that makes a man sterile. I didn't die, but it left permanent damage," His tone was flat, like he was talking about someone else. "So, I will never have children of my own."
Elizabeth stood there, her whole body wentrigid. She thought of the things he had told her before—how he'd been poisoned at five, pushed off a cliff at seven, stabbed by his own bodyguard at nine. He had killed seven of his siblings, but each of those seven had tried to kill him first. He hadn't been born cruel; he had been forced into it.
"Sawyer," she started, but no words followed.
Sawyer looked at her and suddenly smiled. In that smile, there was a strange, elusive kind of release. "So you see, Jack is the only blood heir of the Scott family. No matter what you think, he's my successor. I won't hurt him. I never will."
When Elizabeth walked out of the study, her emotions were a tangled mess she couldn't put into words. She thought of everything Sawyer had done for her—tucking a blanket around her shoulders, handing her a glass of water, teaching her to shoot, keeping her company at meals. She remembered him saying, "In the future, I'm the only one you can count on," remembered him saying, "I won't have children of my own," remembered him saying, "Jack is the only blood heir of the Scott family."
She almost believed it. She almost believed that he really did see her as his little sister, that he genuinely wanted a family.
But she couldn't trust that.
She had to keep reminding herself that Sawyer was a madman, that there had to be some other purpose behind everything he was doing.
She just didn't know what that purpose was. All she could do was wait, follow his lead, pretend she had already accepted him, that she had already let go of Jacob, that she had already decided to stay in Italy.
It was a dangerous game. But she had no choice.
Sawyer began taking her and Jack out to social events. The first was a dinner party hosted by a local aristocrat. Sawyer picked out a deep blue evening gown for her, along with a full set of sapphire jewelry.
"You look incredible in blue," he said, stepping back to take her in, appreciation clear in his eyes.
Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and felt like she was staring at a stranger. The woman in the glass was poised and elegant, her hand resting on Sawyer's arm as she smiled at everyone they passed. She looked like the lady of the Scott family, like Sawyer's most cherished little sister.
Jack wore a tiny suit and bow tie, trailing after Sawyer and greeting people with comically serious manners. He was bright and adorable, and it didn't take long for him to win everyone over.
"Your son is absolutely precious." A society matron bent down and patted Jack's head.
Jack tipped his little face up, his eyes curving like crescent moons as he smiled,"Thank you."
The woman practically melted from how cute he was and turned to Sawyer. "Mr. Scott, this nephew of yours is going to be someone important one day."
Sawyer smiled and smoothed Jack's hair again. "Of course. He's the heir of my Scott family."