He'd always known this life wasn’t for him; nothing had ever changed his mind.
So he’d stood like a stone statue, until it was finished, and then, only because he wasn’t yet ready for it to be over, he’d said, “Shall we have lunch, to discuss?—,”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” she’d cut him off. “You’ve made the arrangement you want perfectly clear. Let’s just get on with it.”
A moment later, she’d slipped into the back of the car, and was driven off by Raul, leaving Raf standing on the footpath, staring after her, wondering how the hell he’d made such a mess of everything.
“Jesus, it’s true.”
Elodie was in no mood for whateverthiswas. She’d been staring at the TV without seeing, all afternoon, and now that it was dark out, and the weather had turned cool, she knew she should contemplate having something to eat—for the babies’ sake—but it was almost impossible to even think of food, despite the gourmet offerings Raf’s chef kept providing. She was all over the place, a mix of heartbreak and love—love for Raf, for their babies, for the life she’d secretly wished for, and couldn’t have.
I think you might want more than I have to give.
She should have let one of the dozen or so staff members Raf had organized answer the door instead, but the knock had been loud and persistent enough to make her think something was wrong.
“Can I help you?”
The woman, very beautiful, slim, with dark red lipstick, pulled a face that could best be described as a sneer before pushing past Elodie, into Raf’s home.
Elodie pressed a hand to her stomach, a frisson of fear running through her at this woman’s intrusion. Raf’s warnings, about the danger that came with being a part of the Santoros, sounded in her mind too late.
“You actually live here?”
Elodie tried not to show her fear. There were staff members aplenty in the house, and Raul in the garage. If she screamed, someone would come. Besides, even pregnant, she was pretty sure she could take this woman if it came down to a fight.
“I can’t see that’s any of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Everything to do with Raf is my business, and always will be.”
Elodie’s frown deepened. She spoke like family, yet she knew this wasn’t Sofia, for the simple reason Sofia’s marriage to King Ares had made world headlines, and she knew, therefore, what she looked like.
Then, with blinding clarity, the penny dropped. “Marcia.”
The other woman’s eyes narrowed, her lips flicking with distaste. “Of course.”
Elodie looked at her with renewed interest, this woman who’d pushed Raf to propose, who’d broken him in a way that Elodie was now suffering for. A man who was already tentative to trust, because of his upbringing, had suffered the final blow courtesy of this woman’s dishonesty.
“Raf isn’t here,” Elodie said, staying close to the door.
“I know.” The woman’s eyes swept over Elodie. “I’ve just come from his hotel.”
Something panged in Elodie’s gut, as she noticed other details for the first time. The woman’s skirt, slightly askew, thelow cut of her blouse, a hint of pink at her throat, as though stubble had been rubbed over it. “His tattoo is new. I like it.”
Elodie blinked away, shocked by the sting of her jealousy, of how easy it was to visualize Raf and this woman together.
“We stayed there together a while ago, when this place was being done up. I chose the interiors, you know,” she added.
Elodie hadn’t known. She couldn’t say if it made a difference. Except, of course it did. Every room in this house had been styled by Marcia. It explained so much. Funny that even without knowing Marcia, or the full story of the relationship, Elodie had felt the cold implacability of the furnishings.
“I am in every aspect of his life.”
She tamped down on the searing pain, focused on keeping her voice level and calm. “Why did you come here?”
Marcia crossed her arms over her chest, nostrils flaring. “To meet you, and to warn you. Raf is very angry with me, but his heart is still mine. He’s just starting to remember that.”
Elodie blinked quickly. “I don’t want his heart,” she lied, her voice trembling a little from the emotion of this confrontation. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to him.”
Surprise showed briefly on Marcia’s features, but she controlled it quickly. Elodie had never in her life met a woman who seemed to be truly catty. The occasional argument, when she was in high school, where things had been said that weren’t meant, but nothing like this. She could feel the woman’s anger radiating off her in waves, and it was seething towards Elodie.
