Chapter 84 Lock Her Up
Blair's scream still clung to the stone walls of the wine cellar, sharp and ragged, laced with a fear she could no longer disguise.
Rufus didn't answer.
He kept his head bowed, his thumb moving slowly… deliberately… over the carved surface of the jade pendant. The grooves were familiar, the texture smooth and warm, yet there was a chill in it—a lifeless cold—that seeped into his bones.
The air in the cellar was heavy, cold enough to bite. His silence pressed down harder than the chill, making Blair's breath come short.
It was a long time before Rufus finally raised his head.
"You said this pendant belongs to you."
His voice was flat. "Then tell me."
The bloodshot eyes that met hers were stripped of rage and grief. What remained was worse—a stillness as deep and black as a frozen lake.
"On the ship… it was cold. You were afraid of the dark. Every night you made me tell you a story."
His gaze sharpened. "Which story was your favorite?"
Blair's breath caught.
Her mind went blank.
A story? What story?
She stared at Rufus's expressionless face, and the last fragile pillar holding up her lie cracked under its own weight.
"Why aren't you talking?" Rufus stepped forward.
Dust and dried blood clung to his clothes, the scent of ruin and death following him like a shadow. Every inch he closed between them made the air feel tighter, more suffocating.
Blair stumbled back until her spine hit the wine rack. Her teeth chattered.
"I… I don't remember, Rufus… it was so long ago… how could I possibly remember?"
She fell into her old routine—tears spilling, voice trembling—trying to summon his sympathy with her weakness.
"Is that so?" Rufus's voice was empty. "Didn't you tell me once that you remembered every detail?"
"You said you remembered how scared I was… how I burned with fever… how you gave me the only piece of bread you had."
He opened his other hand, palm bare, as if to show her the void where trust used to be.
"And now you don't remember any of it?"
"You've forgotten everything we went through?"
Blair swayed, her knees threatening to give way.
"It's been… too long," she said quickly, scrambling for excuses. "I've never had a good memory…"
Her voice sharpened. "Rufus, what's wrong with you? Why are you interrogating me over someone who's dead?"
She tried to shift the weight of the conversation, dragging Cecilia into the center of it.
"Did she tell you something before she died? She was a liar! Not a single word from her could be trusted!"
Cecilia hovered above them, silent.
Her soul had never been so torn. Part of her wanted Rufus to remain trapped in Blair's web forever, to spend his life clawing at a love that would never be real. It was the cruelest justice she could imagine.
But as she saw the outline of truth forming in his eyes, another impulse rose—urgent and dangerous. She wanted him to know everything now.
To know he had trusted the wrong person.
To know he had loved the wrong person.
To know he had driven the only person who truly saved him… to her death.
In the cellar, Rufus gave a soundless laugh.
He lifted the pendant—the one that had always belonged to Cecilia.
"You don't know," he said, voice like a blade.
"Then I'll tell you.
"The ship was dark. The air reeked of rust and saltwater. We were locked in the lowest deck, treated like cargo.
"There was a girl. She'd been there before me, curled in the corner. She was thin, but her eyes… they were bright.
"She shared her food with me—half of whatever the kidnappers gave her. We leaned against each other to keep warm. She told me stories until I fell asleep."
His tone was calm, but each word was a needle under Blair's skin.
These details… Rufus had never told her before.
She had always assumed he'd forgotten—after all, he'd been feverish for days back then.
But he remembered.
He remembered everything.
"Say it!" Rufus's voice exploded, the violence he had held back finally breaking free. "Blair… say something!"
"I… I…" Her voice cracked, panic shredding her composure. "Rufus, stop… please… I really don't remember… it's over… Cecilia is dead… can't we just leave it behind?
"We can start over… I'll take care of you…"
Her plea met nothing but the cold weight of his stare.
Now he understood the look Charles had given him—the pity.
He had been a fool.
A fool played for years, proud of the lies he'd swallowed.
"Blair."
His voice was calm again, too calm.
"The Ember Group's finances… they're not in good shape."
Blair's sobbing stopped.
"And your father, Brad," Rufus went on, each word measured. "What do you think would happen if I dug up every single thing he's done? Would he still be sitting comfortably in his chairman's seat?"
Her blood ran cold. She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.
He was threatening her.
Threatening the entire Ember family… for Cecilia.
The realization burst something inside her—years of jealousy and resentment igniting in a single, vicious flare. The softness and fear on her face twisted into something sharp, poisonous.
"Rufus, have you lost your mind? You're questioning me over her?"
Her voice rose to a scream.
"Cecilia? She was nothing! Just a stray the Ember family kept hidden… a filthy rat from the gutter!
"She didn't deserve you! With her lowborn blood, she wasn't fit to stand beside you! She wasn't even fit to shine your shoes!
"Only me! Blair! The rightful daughter of the Ember family! I'm the one who deserves to be your wife!"
A rat from the gutter.
The words hit Rufus like a blade to the chest.
That girl—dirty, hungry—who had given him her bread.
A rat?
His body trembled, not from rage, but from a pain so deep it hollowed him out.
"Owen."
"Mr. Chapman!" The butler, who had been standing at the door listening to every word, jolted and rushed in.
"Lock her up."
His voice was cold steel. "No visitors. She doesn't leave her room. Not one step."
The madness on Blair's face shattered into terror.
She realized he wasn't bluffing.
"No… Rufus… you can't do this to me!"
She lunged for him, trying to wrap her arms around his legs, but he shoved her away with a kick of pure disgust.
"I was wrong! I was wrong!" she cried, tears streaming, crawling forward on her knees.
"I didn't mean what I said! I was confused! Please… forgive me just this once!"
"Think about all our years together… give me another chance!"
Rufus didn't hear her. Or maybe he simply refused.
Owen gestured sharply.
Two large security men stepped in, one on each side, gripping Blair's arms.
"No! Let me go! Let me go!"
She thrashed wildly, her nails raking bloody lines down their forearms.
"Rufus! Look at me! I'm Blair!"
"You remember who was there when you were at your lowest? It was me! Always me!"
Her screams echoed down the hallway as they dragged her away.
Her heels scraped against the floor, shrieking with each step. The sound of her pleas stretched thinner and thinner… until a heavy door slammed shut, cutting her off completely.