Chapter 120
Andrew's POV
The whiskey burned my throat, but not as much as the truth I'd just spilled. I stared at Julie across the dimly lit booth, her face wearing a mask of gentle concern that somehow made me want to confess everything. What the hell is wrong with me?
Julie's smile was soft, understanding. "Andrew, you've been carrying so much weight. Sometimes we all need someone to listen." Her voice was like honey, warm and soothing. "I'm sure you'll get everything you want in the end."
If only you knew what I really wanted. I watched her elegant fingers as she poured water into my cup. But behind her kind eyes, I caught something else – a flicker of coldness that vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.
The warmth in her tone was intoxicating, more dangerous than the whiskey. I found myself leaning forward, drawn to her like a moth to flame.
Without thinking, my hand shot out and caught hers. The contact sent electricity through my veins, and I saw her eyes widen in surprise.
"Little wildcat," the endearment slipped out before I could stop it, rough with desire and alcohol. "You know I'm interested in you, don't you?"
She went very still, but didn't pull away. Good.
"If you're willing to sleep with me," I continued, my thumb tracing circles on her pulse point, "we can talk about three months together. What do you say?"
Her resistance was obvious, but so was her curiosity.
"I promise," I added, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I'll try not to make things difficult for Grace anymore."
---
Julie's POV
Three months? This man's audacity never ceased to amaze me. I pulled my wrist free, studying his flushed face with what I hoped looked like contemplation rather than disgust.
"So Andrew's sincerity amounts to a three-month arrangement?" I kept my voice level, curious.
He blinked, clearly not expecting my calm response. Most women would have either slapped him or melted into his arms by now. But I wasn't most women, and I had a purpose to fulfill.
"Then how long do you want?" His brow furrowed, confusion replacing the predatory confidence. "Do you want to be my wife?"
"I don't want to play your games," I let a small smile play at my lips. "I'm afraid of suddenly dying like that person you once knew."
The question hit its mark. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the mask slipped completely.
"Don't bring up that woman," he said sharply, his voice suddenly cold and dangerous. "I'm talking business with you. Don't keep mentioning other people."
That woman. My heart sank, but I kept my expression neutral. You mean my best friend, you bastard.
---
Andrew finished his tea and stood abruptly, swaying slightly. "Come on. Drive me home."
I followed him out of the restaurant, my mind racing. The recording app on my phone had captured nothing useful – just drunken rambling and inappropriate propositions. Damn it. I'd hoped the alcohol would loosen his tongue about her death, but he'd been more careful than I'd anticipated.
As I helped him into the passenger seat, my resolve hardened. This isn't over, Andrew Wilson. I'll make you pay for what you did. I'll destroy everything you want, everything you love. You'll know what it feels like to lose someone precious, to feel helpless and desperate.
When you're broken and alone, maybe then you'll understand what she went through.
---
Alex's POV
Two Days Later - Valhalla Mountains
The satellite connection crackled as Grace's face appeared on my laptop screen. Even through the poor signal, she looked radiant, her hair catching the light.
"How's the project going?" she asked, settling with a cup of tea.
"Almost finished," I replied, glancing at Lucas who was reviewing tomorrow's schedule. "Once we finish filming tomorrow, we can head back home."
"No matter how late your flight is," Grace said firmly, "I want to be the first person you see when you get back."
The determination in her voice made my chest warm. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
---
I wanted to tell her about tomorrow's arrangements with Violet, but the words stuck in my throat. It felt deliberate somehow. The work was purely professional – Violet's production team needed B-roll footage of our convoy for the documentary, and she'd specifically requested to ride in my vehicle to discuss tomorrow's schedule.
It's just work, I told myself. Nothing more.
"Alex?" Grace's voice pulled me back to the present. "You look distracted."
"Just thinking about tomorrow's logistics," I said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "Nothing important."
After a few caring exchanges, we ended the call.
---
The convoy wound through narrow mountain passes as Violet's crew captured establishing shots for their documentary. When Violet approached my vehicle claiming the camera truck was full, I gestured to the front passenger seat.
"You can sit up front," I said curtly. "Lucas will brief you on tomorrow's schedule."
But she slid into the seat two spaces behind me instead, maintaining what she probably thought was a respectful distance.
"Is this acceptable, Alex?" she asked, her voice carefully professional.
Violet took out her tablet and began explaining tomorrow's schedule.
I just closed my eyes and listened, occasionally opening them to ask one or two questions about key points.
When the vehicle took a sharp turn, she swayed slightly in her seat. Instinctively, I leaned back, as if even across the seat gap she might somehow reach me.
Ridiculous. But I couldn't shake the feeling that any proximity to Violet was a betrayal of what Grace and I were building.
"Whatever arrangements you need," I said without looking back. "Just make it quick."
Late at night, the car returned to the hotel.
I'd arranged for Violet and me to stay on different floors, but she was waiting by the elevators when I arrived. Her composure finally cracked.
"Haven't you told Grace the real you yet?" The question came out sharp, desperate.
I stopped walking. "What?"
"I love you," she said, her voice breaking. "I can accept everything about you – your past, your family, your darkness. But Grace..." She stepped closer, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "If she knew the truth about who you really are, do you think she'd still stay?"