Chapter 138 The Reaper at the Window
\[Lilia\]
I slammed the door shut, tears brimming at the corners of my eyes, and I didn’t try to stop them. They began rolling down, one by one, until they streamed without stopping, blurring my vision as I dove into my bed. I buried my face into the pillows and screamed at the top of my lungs, letting out all my frustration and anger. I punched the sheets with every ounce of my strength, hoping—praying—that the fabric was actually Ronan’s smug, greedy face.
How could this happen? I should be happy that my grandfather found me, that he had gifted me all of his fortune and a legacy I never knew I had. But why does it cost so much? That serpent bastard Ronan... how dare he threaten me under the roof of the man who raised him?
I thought I would finally be free, yet here I am again, locked up in a damn luxurious cage. My heart felt hollow, and despite everything that had happened at the mansion, I missed him. I missed Kael. I just wanted to be back in his home, in his arms, feeling his touch and hearing his rasping voice telling me that everything would be alright—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me as long as I was with him.
Yes, I may be erratic for thinking such things, knowing it was likely just a fantasy my head was concocting for comfort. He’s an ass and ill-tempered, a beast of a man, that’s for sure. But being away from him for even a few days made me realize how badly I wanted him, despite how he made me go crazy as hell.
However, being with him risked so much now. I couldn’t return without betting two families into a total war. Ronan would ensure we’d never live in peace as long as his hands weren't on Pa’s fortune. He would go to any length to keep me in his grasp, to hold me by the neck and refuse to let go. It wasn't only Kael I was putting in danger; I had to think of Aya and Val. They would surely be swept into the crossfire. No, I cannot let that happen. And even though Ronan said he cared about Pa, there was no assurance he wouldn't hurt the old man for naming me as the heir.
Vittorio is an old man, and he loves me dearly as his granddaughter. I might not want the things he expects of me—the dreaded ball and the spotlight—but it has been a long time since I felt the warmth of family love. I still want to know more about Pa and why Mama left him behind.
My chest was heavy with grief for her memory as I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I was still trying to get used to a room without the mirror and the flaming red walls. This place was fit for a princess, but I knew I wouldn't be staying here for long; tomorrow, we would be flying to Italy. Surely, Pa had prepared a room much grander than this in his estate.
My tears dried on my cheeks, leaving my skin tight. My thoughts drifted back to the man with the mossy green eyes. I imagined the way his lips pressed against mine, his strong arms wrapping around me, his voice calling me his. I closed my eyes, trying to feel him with me, hoping it would ease the ache of missing him and help me forget that I might never see him again.
Fresh tears started to roll down. My chest shook, and a sob escaped my lips. I turned to my side, balled my fist, and bit down on it to keep myself silent as I cried. I’m damn tired of crying, but my eyes seemed to have no control over my tear ducts. I hated it. I may have trained, learned to defend myself, and stood up against those who wronged me, but hell! I was still weak.
Weak as the day those bastards captured me. Weak as the moment Val saw me inside the golden cage. Weak as a little girl right after her mother’s death.
I was drowning in my own tears when I suddenly heard a sharp thwack hit the pane of my windowsill. At first, I thought it was nothing and ignored it. But then it happened again—a persistent knocking from the outside.
With sheer perplexity, I wiped my face and stood. I padded toward the drapes and flung them aside. The moonlight reflected off the white blanket of snow with an ethereal glow. I pressed my palm against the cold glass, staring at the bright full moon, hoping for a miracle to whisk me away.
The scenery remained serene until a familiar face I never expected to see suddenly appeared right before me, on the outside of the glass. It scared the life out of me, nearly knocking me off my feet.
“For the love of all gods! What the hell!?” I gaped, my eyes bulging. “Sasha?”
She knocked again and pointed at the latch. My hands moved instinctively, hurrying to unlock the window.
A cold gust of wind blasted my face as Sasha swung herself in, her legs hoisting over the edge. I ran toward my door, making sure it was locked. If Pa or Ronan knew Kael’s reaper was in my room, her life would be forfeit.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me? Who’s with you?”
My mouth ran like a high-speed train as I marched back to her.
“Sasha! You’re putting your life in danger!”
“Hold your horses, girl.” Sasha surveyed me, relief washing over her face as she saw I was unharmed. She pulled me into a tight hug. I missed her so much; this girl was truly impossible.
“I've missed you, silly. Aya is going crazy,” she whispered, letting me go. “It’s okay now. I'm here to take you home.”
“Kael... where is he? Did he send you?” I wondered why he hadn't come himself.
Sasha shook her head. “No, he doesn't know I’m here, nor does he know the location. He’s too angry. If he knew where you were, he’d be marching here with an army and tearing this place down. Sir Val sent me instead—to keep the peace and prevent a war. No time to waste. We must go now.”
She took my hand and dragged me toward the window. Sasha leapt onto the sill with the grace of a cat. I looked down and saw three bodies lying in the snow. She had rendered the guards unconscious.
I wanted to go with her so badly. To be out of this place and back in the life I knew. But as I considered Val's reason for sending her, I realized my escape would only ignite the fuse. Pa would know Kael took me back, and he would send Ronan to get me again. The cycle of animosity would never stop unless I made a choice.
“No, I cannot.” I pulled my hand from her grasp and stepped back, shivering as the winter cold seeped through my dress.
“What? Are you mad?” Sasha looked at me with utter disbelief.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don't understand...” She trailed off, bewildered.
“It’s a long story, Sasha, but you must trust me,” I said, resigning a long sigh. “Tomorrow, we fly to Italy. There will be a grand ball arranged for me.”
“A ball? Why would they give you a damn ball?”
I had to tell her the truth, or at least enough so she could tell the others I wasn't being harmed.
“I am a De Luca, Sasha. Vittorio’s long-lost granddaughter.”