73__Final

Judge Deborah Lark looked at John Aryan over the top of her glasses, her court in tense silence as everybody awaited the verdict and sentence.

She looked into the audience and spotted Marc Aryan, sitting in front and to the extreme left of the room. Beside him sat his wife and then his sister. Behind them, John Aryan’s wife and his other three children. Her gaze rested on Marc’s wife for a moment. Dr Amelia Parker, the daughter of two of Arthur Aryan’s victims. Judge Lark couldn’t imagine what was going on the in the girl’s head at that moment.

She looked at the rest of the family. Arthur Aryan’s wife had on a large black hat, a short veil falling over her face in the most pretentiously dramatic manner.

The families of the victims were all here, she could pick them out from the crowd based on the downcast expressions on their faces. They would be forced to relive some of the most painful moments of their lives. All because of one bastard.

Sighing, Judge Lark gathered the documents before her. This had been a long and disturbing trial; she was ready to end it all now.

“John Aryan.” At the sound of her voice, the forlorn criminal in the prisoner’s garb raised his head, looking at her with ill-concealed hatred.

Judge Lark had seen too many cutthroats to care. “John Aryan, for the murders of the late employees of Aryan Gold, Dr Kate Stenson, Dr Terrence Bailey, Professor Jordan King, Ms Samantha Harden, Mr Jacques Pennely, Dr Roselyn Smith and the previously, falsely accused… Professor Madeline Parker, added to the second count of murder in which you killed one Jeremy Parker, husband to Professor Parker, through hired means, this court and it’s jury finds you guilty on all charges.”

The court erupted in a flurry of murmurs for a moment and Judge Lark patiently waited until the mumbling died down.

“For the multiple counts of murder, the court imposes a sentence of…”

The court went silent.

“Life imprisonment.”

The silence shattered and people shot out of their seats, cheers, curses, and shouted words of grief filling the room.

Amelia didn’t move a muscle. In the noise, her mind was silent, eyes filled with tears behind the dark glasses she wore.

A hand wrapped around hers and she looked down to see Marc holding her pale hand in his palm. Silently, he offered the comfort and, silently, she accepted it.

She and Marc didn’t currently live together as Amelia had temporarily moved back to her old apartment while she sorted out her dad’s house. She missed Marc and, despite everything that happened, she still hoped they could return to normal. It was a good sign that he still treated her this gently whenever they were together and she found herself using these moments with him as fuel to make it through the more difficult things she had to face alone. Even if these moments were mostly in the public eye where cameras were present.

She didn’t even know whether they were doing it genuinely or keeping up their charade.

The judge went on to announce the following details of John Aryan’s sentence, but Amelia had already mentally logged out of the room.

She was thinking of her parents, thinking of her mother who spent her final moments on the cold floor of a storage room.

Perhaps it was the universe simply returning to her parents the pain they had caused an innocent woman by taking her baby away, Amelia could accept that much. It hadn’t been a great thing that her parents had done and, now she realized, they hadn’t been the saints she’d seen them as.

Either way, they would always be her parents, especially because she would never be able to get to know her biological mother.

She would live with the memory of her adoptive parents, keeping in mind that Vincent Harris had also been a victim, he’d lost his daughter. She would be kind to him even though she’d previously been wary of him.

With time, hopefully everything would fall into place. The pain would lessen and life would become brighter and more joyful than she’d ever experienced.

The warmth surrounding her cold hand made her look down at Marc’s hand again.

The court was still noisy around her as the bailiff led John Aryan away, but Amelia was calm inside.

Turning, she looked at Marc. He was already looking at her, seemingly troubled as he struggled to read her face behind the glasses. Not wanting him to worry, she smiled softly, nodding.

He nodded back.

She held his hand tightly, sharing his warmth as she firmly closed the door on the most horrible chapter of her life.

Her parents were gone, but John Aryan was already paying for it, that was good enough.

And despite everything that went wrong, Amelia eventually did reach the goal of her fake marriage to Marc Aryan. She scoffed softly at that, standing up with Marc as they prepared to leave the courtroom.

With a sigh, she remembered words her late mum often said and, in her case, how true they felt.

*All is well… that ends well.*

*********

“Thank you so much, Amelia,” Thomas said as they drove toward Marc’s place.

Amelia sighed. “I still don’t understand why you guys need me for this.”

“You’re his wife,” he said. “You’ll be able to stop him if he tries to murder me. Besides, why aren’t you two living together anymore? Is it….” Thomas hesitated. “Because of—”

“We’re fine,” she said quickly. “I’m just sorting out my dad’s house, I’ve gotta sell it and sort our all his stuff, so I’m staying closer to home to make things easier.”

She fully regretted the spontaneous decision to give Marc some distance. She was done selling the house and everything, but now she didn’t know how to go back to him. He hadn’t asked her to return yet and she felt odd making the request.

Last night, she’d gotten the notifications that her student loans had been paid and then she’d gotten a deposit of five million pounds. It felt like he was really ending the wholle matter and that terrified her. She loved him now, who gave a toss about five million pounds? She wanted Marc.

Her heart sat heavily in her chest, countless worries tightening her throat. Arson told her Marc was doing better and had been in contact with his psychologist for more regular sessions.

She was happy about that but had only grown the fear of affecting his progress if she moved back in.

Sighing, Amelia tried to stifle the anxiousness gripping her heart from the knowledge that she was on her way to see him.

“Have you found Belinda?” she asked instead.

Thomas scoffed. “I know where she is, but I’m not running after her. She’s embarrassed, especially now that she knows you’re Thea. She doesn’t know how to face you, so she’s staying hidden.”

“Oh.” She calmly looked out the window. “I hope she’ll get over that soon. It’s not like I’m mad at her or anything.”

Frowning, Thomas glanced at her. “You sound… really down. Maybe we shouldn’t do this today.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s important for James for us to do this quickly.”

They arrived and were soon driving into Marc’s dark car park. The whole thing reminded her of the first time she’d come here and Amelia pursed her lips as they walked toward the familiar lift.

As soon as they entered the house, James came racing out.

“Amelia!” He jumped onto her legs and clung to them as she laughed.

“Hi, baby! I missed you!”

“How much did you miss me?!” he questioned, grinning up at her.

“So much!” She laughed, shaking her head as she waddled into the house, holding him so he didn’t fall.

Elizabeth came out at the sound of their voices, wringing a kitchen towel. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Amelia said. “Where is he?”

“Upstairs,” Elizabeth whispered. “He’s in a good mood today, it’s the best time.”

“Hello, love,” Thomas greeted pleasantly, picking up James before wrapping Liza in a hug.

Amelia drew in a deep breath, her insides quivering. “You guys owe me for this. Big time.”

“Anything you want,” Thomas promised.

Pursing her lips, Amelia turned to go upstairs to get Marc, but there was no need.

He was standing at the top of the stairs, staring down at her.

“Amelia?”

Her face was bright with surprise, her mouth open in a small O. “Oh, Marc…” For lack of anything else to say, she forced out a big smile and waved. “Hi!”

Oh, God, he looked beautiful. It hadn’t been too long since she’d drawn away so he could return to therapy, but she’d nearly forgotten how bloody radiant this man was.

His reaction to her bright greeting was a frown, confusion mixing with hope in his eyes as he came down the stairs. “You’re here.” He glanced at Thomas, pausing like he was seeing him for the first time. “And you? What are you doing here?”

At the question, Thomas stiffened, trying to not disappear behind Elizabeth. *“Uhm….* Amelia will explain.”

His attention immediately went to Amelia, his gaze softening. “Hello.”

The greeting was so soft, ringing with pleasant surprise that warmed her heart but also made her anxious. Why was he surprised she was here? He’d expected for things to be done between them? She would cry.

“Hey.” She laughed awkwardly. “So basically, these two have something to discuss with you. Something serious and important that has to do with—”

“How are you?” His eyes gazed at her like nobody else mattered.

Amelia paused, staring at him. “Oh, I’m... I'm great. How’re you doing?”

He thought it over. The truth was that he wasn’t great, but he would be if she came back to him. But what if vocalising that made her think she had to come back? He didn’t want to put pressure on her. After all, she'd been the one to leave. Marc had learnt that people sometimes lied when they were trying to be considerate of one another.

“Alright,” he finally said.

She nodded and, like she'd forgotten what else to say, stood there looking at him.

“Amelia,” whispered Thomas, making signals with his brows.

“What exactly do you want, Thomas?” Marc questioned, glancing over at James as he sat at the table by the windows.

“Ah, right,” said Amelia. “Thomas and Elizabeth want to discuss James and their relationship. To find a way forward.”

Marc frowned at Thomas. “Why's he made you his mouthpiece?”

Liza winced. “Because you’re likely to get mad at him if he tries to negotiate himself.”

Marc considered it. “True. But it doesn’t make a difference, I disapprove either way. And by discussing James, you mean you want to take him away from me?”

Tension settled over them, Liza and Thomas exchanging nervous glances.

“No, Marc,” Elizabeth said. “You'll always be Jamie's parent, we'll never change that.”

“Except you *are* trying to change it,” he said calmly, his expression heavy with hurt. “It's been nearly seven years, Liza. I’ve been raising him as my own because: 1, you planned to give him up the second he was born and 2, *he* didn’t claim James as his son. And now? You’ve both gotten some sort of revival of conscience?”

They both lowered their gazes. “We just...” Elizabeth wiped a tear. “We need to fix our mistakes before it’s too late.”

Marc scoffed. Shaking his head, he glanced at Amelia. “Will you please do me a favour, love?”

*Anything.* “ Yeah, sure!”

He nodded. “Please keep James company up there, make sure he can’t hear this.”

“Okay.” She hurried off toward James, climbing the few stairs to the windows where he sat.

Marc watched until he was sure that James was deep in conversation with Amelia and then he turned to Thomas, eyes darkening with anger.

“Let me tell you something, Thomas. You’re not good enough for James. And by good enough, I mean, as a father who will protect him and choose him over everything.”

Thomas looked wronged. “Marc, I assure you, I’ll do anything to keep my boy safe.”

“Please.” Marc looked disgusted. “I sent Amelia away because she’s only just started her relationship with your father and I don’t want to ruin it, but I’m sure you know damn well that your father planned mine and James's car accident.”

Elizabeth looked at him and Thomas went red. “Honestly, Marc, I had no idea. I couldn’t believe Dad would do that knowing that my son was in the car—”

“He didn't,” Marc said. “He didn’t know that James was in the car because your thug of a housekeeper told him that it would only be me in the car. And then she pretended like she’d had no idea once the news broke.”

Thomas's expression cracked with shock. “What? Mrs Willingham?!”

She arranged the entire thing and told your father that James wasn’t in the car so Vincent would go through with his revenge plans. So, tell me... how would you protect my son when you don’t even know what’s happening under your own roof?”

In total shock, Thomas just started at him.

Elizabeth was clenching her jaw in anger. “You abandon your plans to be CEO.”

Both Marc and Thomas looked at her.

“Elizabeth...” he said.

“Yes, Thomas. The obsession my father and yours have with that company is what brought us where we are today. Just to make you CEO, your father nearly killed my Jamie. You give up the fight for the position of CEO right now or we're through. I’m sick of it, our entire lives have controlled by this.”

Quietly, Marc crossed his arms. Looks like the company would be left with no CEO at all. The old folks would be struggling for a while.

Without a word, Thomas pulled out his phone and dialled a number, placing the device to his ear. “Dad. Yes. Where am I? I’m at Marc's house with Elizabeth and our son." His voice shook with anger. "I just called to say that I know all about the car accident you planned. Mrs Willingham knew that James was in the car, she lied to you and I nearly lost my son. Yes, ask her. I want nothing to do with your sick vendetta against the Aryans, I am sick of it. I want nothing to do with Aryan Gold and, last of all... for the time being, I want nothing to do with *you.”*

He didn’t wait for a reply, pulling the phone away and ending the call.

He looked at Elizabeth, determination shining in his brown eyes. “Will that do? Because I’ll do even more, Liza. I’ll do anything.”

A slight tinge of approval filled her eyes, but she turned to her brother first, hoping he was appeased. She had to get her Jamie back.

Marc wished he could just say no and kick them all out of his house, but he couldn’t. He had to think about James.

He sighed. “Sit down. We need to discuss this in detail.”

*********

It was two hours later when they were finally leaving.

“Thank you, Marc,” said Thomas as he walked toward the exit. “This means the world to me.”

“I'm doing this for James,” Marc murmured.

Elizabeth came back downstairs with James who was now well dressed for a quick outing with his parents.

“Come on,” Thomas called up to Amelia who was still sitting by the windows. “I’ll take you home.”

“Leave Amelia with me,” Marc said quickly.

Amelia's eyes widened a bit but she quickly nodded. “Yeah, I’ll... stay for a bit.”

Thomas nodded and they all said their goodbyes, promising to bring James home on time.

Once they were gone, silence filled the house and Marc glanced up at Amelia.

Getting up, she slowly came down to where he stood. “How did it go?”

“Okay. They're going to explain things to James today. I won't be able to let him go so suddenly, so we’ve agreed on a system of visits until things gradually change into them being his primary caregivers.”

She nodded, listening closely. “Great. You’re so kind for making it easy for them to enter their son's life, Marc, seriously.”

His gaze hadn’t moved an inch from hers since they’d been left alone. “Thanks...”

She saw his pupils move over her face and knew he was reading her. “Is there... something you’d like to know—”

“Did you leave me for good?” He took a step forward, his gaze eagerly searching hers. “Would me begging you to return be too clingy or put unwanted pressure on you? Does me wanting you to come back mean I’m selfish and inconsiderate of your needs? Your needs to be... away from me.”

She stared up at him. How... unexpectedly adorable. “That’s a lot of questions. Which one should I answer?”

“All, if you please.”

“Well... okay. No, I didn’t leave for good. You don’t need to beg me to return, you could literally draw breath to form the words and I’ll already be packing my bags. You wanting me back doesn’t mean you’re selfish, it only means that we want the exact same thing. I don’t need to be away from you... quite the contrary.” She scoffed. “As if I could leave as I please, I am *bound* and *shackled* by my feelings for you, Marc Aryan—”

She halted, looking at his startled expression. She’d been rambling for too long, he probably hadn’t processed a thing she’d said.

“What do you mean?” he questioned quietly, like he wanted to be sure before he got his hopes up.

She cringed. “I mean, I left because I thought you needed space to get better but now, I miss you to death and I wanna come back and I don’t know how because its awkward—”

He tugged her against him and she was engulfed in a hug, crushed in his warmth.

“All you had to do... was ask.” His calm voice soothed the troubled nerves frazzled within her.

With tearing wide eyes, she held him.

“I’ve been trudging miserably about,” he murmured. “Thinking you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“But I told you I was leaving so you could get better without me in your space.”

“I thought that was a poor excuse for you wanting to leave. It’s been terrible, Amelia. Your scent's all over the house, it’s been tormenting me.”

She choked out a laugh despite herself. “Sorry about that. How bad was the torment?”

He groaned, pulling back to look at her. “Let's just say... I’m now a firm member of the circus of humanity that is controlled by hormones.”

She laughed again, her face lighting up and Marc felt literal flutters in his belly. The feeling was so foreign, he was momentarily stunned. “You’re *so* beautiful.”

It was her turn to be stumped, staring at him.

“Oh... thank you. So are you.”

He shook his head slowly, hand caressing her cheek. “Not like this. Not like you. Your face is the most beautifully expressive work of art I’ve ever laid eyes on. Reading this face is like a reward for being alive, you display every emotion in the most confoundingly beautiful manner, Amelia.”

A slow grin spread her cheeks out and he smiled at the mischievous expression.

“I want to look at this face for the rest of my life, love. Every morning, every night, every day of our lives.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That's a pllan I can get behind.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? Well, then... why don't you marry me?”

Her smile flirted with him, hands caressing his hair as she reached up to place a gentle kiss on his mouth.

“Marry you? I already did.”

***END.***