Chapter 169
She took it out and with the aid of the desk lamp, she could finally make out the documents. A Valhalla Bank deposit slip, a property deed, investment fund documents, and several legal documents she couldn't even begin to understand. Each document bore the same name: Elizabeth Scott.
She skimmed through them, but it was obvious to her, the total value of those assets far, far exceeded what Sawyer had just handed her.
Dozens of times over. Maybe even hundreds.
Elizabeth's fingers trembled, just a little.
She stared at the documents, then suddenly laughed. It had no joy but contained a bone-chilling menace.
"What's wrong?" Jacob walked over. When he caught sight of the documents, his pupils contracted for a second.
Elizabeth handed him the papers, stood up, walked to the safe, and took out the last envelope. There were only two words inscribed on it. My child.
She opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, with just one sentence written on it in hard, sharp handwriting: [The Scott's fortune can only be inherited by a Scott.]
Elizabeth looked at that line for a long time in silence. Then she folded the letter, slipped it into her pocket, turned around, and looked at Jacob.
"Jacob, do you know why Sawyer gave me this safe?"
Jacob said nothing.
"Because he couldn't open it." Elizabeth's voice was very soft. It was so soft, it sounded like she was talking to herself. "He must've tried a lot of times and still couldn't get it open. He handed it to me to try. He thought since he didn't know the code, I wouldn't know it either. He wanted to see if I'd open it in front of him so he can see what was inside."
She paused, a flicker of frost passed through her eyes. "But he didn't expect that I really knew the code, and he definitely didn't expect you to show up."
Jacob looked down at the papers, his brows drawn tight. "Elizabeth, this stuff is way too dangerous. If Sawyer finds out you've already opened the safe..."
"He won't find out." Elizabeth cut him off. She pulled a few blank sheets of paper from the bookshelf, folded them, and put them into the safe. She stuffed a few old magazines on top to make the box feel heavy and full.
Then she closed the lid, locked it and spun the dial randomly.
"These are the real documents," she saidas she handed the stack back to Jacob. "You take them. Hide them. When I get back, we'll deal with them then."
Jacob took the papers and looked at her, he clearly wanted to say something but held it back.
Elizabeth knew exactly what he was worried about.
She stood on her toes and brushed a soft kiss against his lips. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."
Jacob slid an arm around her and pulled her into his chest. He held her so tightly that she could barely breathe.
He buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, like he was trying to commit her scent into his memory.
"One month." His voice was muffled. "One month from now, whether your plan works or not, I'm coming to get you. By then, you have to leave with me."
Elizabeth closed her eyes and gave the slightest nod. "Okay. One month."
Jacob let her go and gave her one last look.
There was reluctance, worry, and a kind of almost devout promise in his eyes.
Then he turned, went to the window, pushed it open, and swung himself out into the night, disappearing into the darkness.
Elizabeth stood at the window and watched his figure melt into the shadows. She gazed at the moon she had stared at so many nights before, and it felt like the moon was brighter than it had ever been.
She stood there for a long time, long enough for her legs to go numb, long enough for the candle on the windowsill to flare back to life.
Then she heard footsteps in the hallway. Sawyer was back.
She quickly sat down at the desk, picked up the document she had already read countless times, and pretended to be deeply absorbed in it.
When the door opened, she didn't even look up at first. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him come in, shrug off his coat, and hang it neatly on the rack.
"Still up?" His voice was a little hoarse, he was tipsy.
"Couldn't sleep." Elizabeth turned a page, her tone flat. "I'm going over those businesses you gave me. A few of the wineries are in great locations, but the management seems messed up. They've been losing money three years in a row."
Sawyer walked over and stood behind her, lowering his head to glance at the papers. "Those wineries were part of my mother's dowry. After she died, no one took care of them, so they just went to waste."
Elizabeth tilted her head up to look at his face.
Under the lamplight, his face was so pale it was almost translucent. The dark circles under his eyes looked worse, yet the corners of his mouth were curved in a faint, almost gentle smile.
"Your mother…" She ventured.
Sawyer fell quiet for a second.
"She was very gentle. Not like me." He paused. "All right, that was a lie."
Elizabeth said nothing. She had no idea how to respond to that.
Sawyer didn't continue. He only patted her shoulder lightly. "Go to bed early. We've got things to do tomorrow."
He turned and took a couple of steps, then suddenly stopped.
"By the way, you seemed to be in a pretty good mood today."
Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat, but her face stayed perfectly calm. "Am I?"
Sawyer glanced back at her, his smile deepening just a fraction. "You look softer than usual. Is it because of that safe?"
Elizabeth froze for a second, then smiled. "Kind of. Even though I couldn't open it, just knowing it's something my father left me makes me feel warm inside."
He studied her, something complicated passing through his eyes—relief? Jealousy? Or something else? She didn't catch it clearly; he had already turned away and was heading for the door.
"Good night, Elizabeth."
"Good night."
When the door closed, Elizabeth stayed where she was, listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway before finally letting out a long breath. Her palms were slick with sweat.
The next morning, when Elizabeth saw Sawyer in the dining room, he looked a little better than he had the day before.
He had changed into a charcoal-gray suit, his hair combed back without a strand out of place, and he seemed noticeably more put-together.
"Morning." He pulled out her chair for her, his movements as gentlemanly as ever.
Elizabeth sat and gave him a once-over. "You look good today."
He took the seat across from her and sipped his coffee. "I slept well last night."
Elizabeth didn't ask any follow-up questions. She lowered her head and started on her breakfast.
Sawyer was quieter than usual, only glancing at her now and then with a faint smile on his lips. That smile made Elizabeth uneasy; it felt like he was holding something back.
Sure enough, when they finished eating, Sawyer set down his knife and fork, dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his napkin in that controlled, elegant way of his, then looked at Elizabeth and spoke.
"Elizabeth, there's something I want to talk to you about."
Elizabeth lifted her head, waiting for him to go on.
"I've found you a marriage match."