Ch-19

•~•Aziel’s POV

Irene's expression shifted—blank at first, then laced with skepticism. She scoffed. "Yeah, right. If that’s true, then why didn’t you go after the girl you loved? Why were you engaged to someone else?"

I averted my gaze, my jaw clenching. I had only meant to tease her a little. I hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this serious. “It’s complicated,” I muttered.

Irene crossed one leg over the other, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "From my experience, that’s exactly what a player would say.”

I snapped my head toward her. "I’m not a player. I did love her. I just… didn’t show it enough. Didn’t tell her how much I loved her." My voice dropped, the weight of old regrets pressing down on me.

"My mother had already mapped out my future with Shoshana. The only good thing about being stuck in this wheelchair is that I’m not being forced to marry her anymore."

Irene tilted her head. "But you were kind of forced to marry me. Our marriage is still part of your mother’s plans. Don’t you hate that?"

I hesitated before admitting, "I did at first. Until I found out it was you I’d be marrying."

Her frown deepened. "What?"

I held her gaze. "You remind me of her."

Her lips parted slightly. "The girl you loved?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then I saw it—the flicker of pain, the anger flashing in those beautiful blue eyes before she finally spoke.

"What part?" Her voice wavered—sharp, raw. "That I’m crazy? You like crazy girls, don’t you? That’s why you said I was exactly your kind of girl back at the hospital, right?"

I smiled, but it was a bittersweet one.

"It’s true…You’re crazy." I let the words settle for a moment before adding, "But in a good way. And yeah, I’m attracted to that. But it’s more than that… you remind me of her. Especially when you’re angry or jealous. And most of all—your eyes.”

I held her gaze. "The same deep, intense blue. It’s like looking into the sky—vast and consuming. Just like hers."

Tears shimmered in Irene’s eyes as she stared at me, her gaze darkening like storm clouds before a downpour. But just before a tear could fall, she quickly turned her head toward the window.

"So, what? You married me because I’m just a replacement for some girl you loved and couldn’t have?" She tried to sound indifferent, but the bitterness still crept into her voice.

I didn’t answer right away.

I let the silence stretch, giving her space to process her emotions. Then, after a moment, I spoke.

"You know… she died."

Irene turned back to me, her pained expression quickly hardening into irritation. "The girl you loved?"

I nodded.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “So… is this the part where I’m supposed to say ‘sorry for your loss’? Because I don’t see why you’re telling me this.”

Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but beneath it, I caught something else—unease, maybe even something closer to hurt.

I shook my head, amused.

"This is exactly why you’re my kind of girl." I smirked. "You don’t sugarcoat things. You say exactly what’s on your mind."

Leaning back, I watched her reaction. "I just figured I’d tell you now, so you don’t end up jealous later over someone who’s been dead for years. You know, just trying to tap into my psychic powers like you said.”

She stared at me for a beat before shaking her head with a small smile. "You’re unbelievable."

I leaned in slightly. "So… does that smile mean I’m forgiven?" My tone was teasing.

"...The whole Shoshana Bates thing at the hospital? I mean, I’m still going to make it up to you, but I need to know if I’m off the hook."

She averted her gaze, but this time, instead of looking out the window, she dropped her eyes to her lap—like she didn’t want me to see that she found my words amusing.

"You’re forgiven," she mumbled.

I grinned. "Huh? What was that?" I cupped a hand to my ear. "I don’t think I heard you."

She shot me a playful glare. "You heard me.”

Before I could push further, a flight attendant approached, balancing a tray of wine glasses with effortless grace.

She turned to Irene with a polished smile. “Ma’am, would you care for some wine?”

Just then, my phone vibrated against my lap. I glanced down at the screen—my body tensed.

The same unknown number.

The same number from five years ago.

The same number that had called back in Paris, at the hotel suite.

I had never saved it. It didn’t deserve a name. Not until the day I finally uncovered who the caller was. That day, I would name it.

I stole a glance at Irene, who was still speaking with the flight attendant, then forced my voice to stay casual. “Hey, Solane, I’m going to the restroom.”

She turned to me. “Oh? Do you need help?”

I smirked. “I can manage.”

Gripping the armrest, I maneuvered my wheelchair slightly before pushing myself toward the aisle.

Private jets, especially their restrooms, weren't exactly designed for people with disabilities like mine. Or rather, for a disability I was only pretending to have. But I’d long mastered the art of adjusting.

With practiced ease, I made my way to the restroom and shut the door behind me.

Taking a deep breath, I answered the call.

Static crackled in my ear before a distorted, mechanical voice spoke.

“I was wondering when you’d contact me to thank me for helping your wife.”

My fingers tightened around the device. “Thank you?” My brows furrowed. “For what?”

A low, dark chuckle crackled through the phone. “Who do you think took care of your kidnappers?”

My breath hitched.

“Your mother was out looking for them,” the voice continued. “She sent that lapdog of hers, Dominic, to hunt them down and drag them back so she could have their heads—for daring to ruin her plans. For almost killing you.”

A pause. Then, the voice continued, “Lucky for you, I found them first and chopped their heads off before she could.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. “What?... You killed them?!”

“Well,” the voice mused, “not exactly. ‘Chopped their heads off’ was just a figure of speech. But yes, I killed them… It was necessary.”

Then, in an almost lazy tone, the voice continued, “Your mother would have found them eventually, and that would have put your dear Irene at risk. So, I took the liberty of handling the dirty work for you two.”

Another pause, as if letting the weight of those words sink in.

“Now they’re six feet under. Where they can’t talk. Even if your mother ever comes looking.”

My jaw clenched as fury boiled inside me. My grip on the phone tightened. “Stay the hell away from me and my wife. I don’t want someone—a murderer like you anywhere near us. You hear me?”

The voice hummed. “And yet, your mother is just as much a murderer.” A pause. “Just a reminder, she’s the reason you and Irene’s child died. And you’re still comfortable being around her?”

My chest tightened. I said nothing.

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Aziel.” The voice sighed, almost exasperated. “Oh, and by the way, my sources tell me your brother, Nathaniel, is showing signs of recovery. He might wake up soon.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“Oh? Your mother didn’t tell you?” A dark chuckle crackled through the line. “I wonder why. Maybe she’s planning something—something she doesn’t want you to know…”

“...So don’t be too shocked if Nathaniel wakes up… and she decides you’re no longer needed.”

I scoffed. “My mother is many things, but she wouldn’t kill one of her sons for the other.”

“Oh? But she had no problem killing her own unborn grandchild.” The voice turned ice-cold. “Wake up, Aziel. It’s time you face the truth about the monster she really is.”

Anger and frustration swirled inside me, bubbling dangerously close to the surface. “What do you want?” I gritted out. “Why do you keep calling me? Why tell me all this?”

“I already told you.” The voice remained unnervingly calm. “I want you to join me. Help me make your mother pay for every unforgivable sin she’s committed. Help me destroy her.”

My pulse pounded in my ears.

“And here’s another wake-up call for you,” the voice added smoothly. “I’m the reason no one knows that Solane Blackwood is actually Irene Lancaster. I’m also the reason your mother hasn’t figured out that you can walk…”

“...I’ve been protecting your secrets, Aziel, because I want you on my side. Think of it as one of the perks of my offer.”

Silence stretched between us.

“But my patience won’t last forever,” the voice continued, its tone darkening. “And depending on your answer, I might just stop keeping those secrets safe.”