Page 174 of Heroes & Villains: The Complete Dark Romance Duet

“What?”

“That night I walked in on you at the fireplace at Nigella’s. You said you were lighting a fire, but you were burning something. I got the papers out after and was going to ask you but never had a chance. Ethan had taken them.”

“Ethan?” Silas’s face darkens.

“From what I could make out, they were medical papers about my mom and dad. Ethan had taken them, and he told me I needed to see something, but he never had the chance to tell me what. I tried to get the gun from him, and he knocked me out and then…”

Someone knocks on the door just as Silas opens his mouth, and we both turn to find my dad peer into the room.

“Knock, knock.”

“Dad!”

He walks inside, and he’s carrying a giant bouquet of balloons in a rainbow of colors. I can’t help but smile at them. “You look good, Phee.” He comes over to kiss my cheek.

Silas takes the balloons and ties them to the back of a chair. My dad reaches into his pocket to retrieve my eyeglass case.

“Picked these up on my way,” he says and hands me my glasses. “Police cleared the brownstone.”

I feel sad at the memory of Hamish lying on the floor, dying. The nurse comes in pushing a tray table and my dad turns to her. She greets him and I watch him while Silas watches me, and thoughts circle my mind. My dad wanting to burn down the house to burn those papers, so I’d never find out what they’d said he’d done. My dad still afraid of being found after my mom died. Still afraid my grandfather would take me from him. The Type A circled in red sharpie on my mom’s medical record. Her blood type. The nurse saying my dad wasn’t a match.

No. That’s nothing. It’s not so unusual. Is it?

Ethan casually questioning whether or not we could be sure Horatio Hart was my father at all.

“Are you all right?” Silas asks me as the nurse leaves and my dad makes some comment about the quality of hospital food.

I meet my dad’s eyes. I look like my mom. Exactly like her. I haven’t inherited a single physical trait from my father.

Dad smiles warmly at me, his eyes welling up and I look from him to Silas and my heart is full to overflowing.

Some things are better left unknown.

Maybe Silas was right all those years ago.

It doesn’t matter what was on those sheets of paper. None of it matters.

I look up to Silas.

“I’m perfect.”

EPILOGUE

SILAS

6 months later

Gordon Carlisle-Bent is a formidable old man. When I take her to that beach to marry her properly, he’s there, medical staff in tow, the three of them looking more worn out than their patient. He barks instructions at them as they carry him and his wheelchair to the waterfront, where he insists they take off his shoes so he can feel the water on his bare feet.

I stand watching, shaking my head.

Father Emiliano is at my side. He’ll perform the ceremony. Lourdes and Nigella will witness.

Flowers have been strewn along the steps of the property to the water’s edge where we will marry and when the violinist begins to play a version of the wedding march, I turn to watch Horatio step onto the sand and beside him stands my bride. My beautiful bride.

I smile, my heart full to overflowing, the only bitterness on this sweet day is that my mother couldn’t be here to witness it.

Ophelia begins to walk toward me. She’s barefoot, wearing a simple white dress, her hair loose, the curls wild in the sea air, big glasses on her face, her lips a glistening peach, those honey-colored eyes wide and brimming with tenderness. With love.

When she gets to me, I take her from Horatio, who sets his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. He nods and smiles.

Ophelia and I turn to Father Emiliano as the violin quiets, and just as he begins the ceremony, something catches my eye.

I look up and Ophelia glances at me, then follows my gaze and we watch as, out of nowhere, a white feather floats down from the sky and lands right inside Ophelia’s outstretched hand.