Vanquished (The Encounter #3)(37)

As much as I wanted to address the latter parts of his statement, I knew I had to pry more on what had gone down in Paris, or I might never get the chance to ask him this. He had always avoided the subject. This was the first time he had even referenced it.

“You’re asking me to run away with you, but we must keep on running away forever … I have to ask, Hugo, who are we running away from in the first place? Because it sure as hell is not Julien.”

“If I tell you, will you be with me forever?” he asked cautiously, his eyes never leaving mine.

I knew he wasn’t one to throw such an inane question if he didn’t mean every word of it. He wanted me—he wanted us—together … forever. As did I.

Making a small, determined nod, I took a deep breath before answering his question. “Yes, I’ll be wherever you are. I’m yours, Hugo, no matter what.” If this was the only chance we had, I wouldn’t waste it. He owned me. “I love you, Hugo.”

Sealing that promise with a kiss, I had to pull away after a few minutes because I didn’t want it to get out of hand. He still owed me an explanation, and I didn’t want to waste more time waiting for the truth.

“I need to know more about Paris…”

Reaching for my hand, he entwined it with his then leaned back against the headboard with a look that indicated he was far away, transported back to the past. I waited with bated breath before I heard his twisted tale.

“My father had a twin. They were never really close, because they were so different from each other. They always ended up squabbling about something, be it business, personal—anything under the sun. They just couldn’t see eye to eye. My father kept his distance, and we only ever saw him during familial events, but after my mother died, things changed between them.

“It was strange how, all of a sudden, they became the best of friends. It had to do with my father gravely mourning the loss of my mother. He went into severe depression, and for some odd reason, it was my uncle Giles who helped him cope with the pain. Hence, the drunken parties and excessive travelling for two years. They went on business meetings and projects like they should’ve done in the very beginning.

“With my father drowning in his sorrow and trying to live again, he didn’t realize something was going on with Giles until later on. They were about to close this deal with a Russian oligarch when he heard the news that my uncle had run off with the Russian’s wife. Apparently, she was pregnant with my uncle’s child.

“Her husband was actually a head of the mafia, and it didn’t take long before he had his people scattered over Europe, hunting them down. Once they were caught in Algeciras in Spain before catching a ferry to Tangier. The oligarch had them killed. He also ordered to make sure the baby was murdered first while Giles watched in horror.

“My father hadn’t a clue what had happened until someone couriered an envelope that contained all the gory images of what had taken place that night. If that wasn’t evilly sadistic enough, the bastard also attached a note in the package. It stated that whenever my father and I fell in love, remarried, or fathered a baby, that woman and/or child would die. He believed my father encouraged the affair, so he deemed this a fitting punishment so that my father and I would know the kind of suffering he went through.”

It stated that whenever my father and I fell in love, remarried, or fathered a baby, that woman and/or child would die …

“Is that what happened to—” I paused as my heart galloped against my chest as Julien’s words registered in my mind once again.

“… but you’d be best to pay heed. I’m not sure what those flowers signify, but it’s sending a loud message to Hugo. He doesn’t have a choice at this point but to let you go. So, whatever he advised you to do, don’t hesitate to do it, because however you want to look at this, you’re next …”

“It might seem silly if you think of it, but there’s nothing to laugh about if you end up dead, Isobel.”

I felt cold all over as I realized what this meant to me, to my life, to my unborn twins. Oh, God.

“They killed her … your girlfriend in the bathtub. They killed her because you were in love with her.” Everything was making sense.

Hugo shook his head before an ashen look came over his face. “No, that was never the case. Unbeknownst to me, Louise was pregnant with my child.” His crestfallen expression matched my own. “What happened in Paris … those chamomile flowers … Louise had that on her bed six months prior, and we found her with those blasted blooms floating around her dead body.

“Later, I found out that it was Russia’s national flower. It was a statement he didn’t want me to miss, but I did miss it, or else she wouldn’t be dead. So, when that happened to you, Isobel, I knew I had to stay away from you to keep you safe. It was the only way I could convince his spies that I wasn’t in love with you. I had to set you free.”

Oh, God! Oh, f*cking God! I was next. They had to be watching me. That guy … that man with those eyes …

I felt sick as horror filled me. I immediately ran to the bathroom, seeking the toilet and puking my guts out. How could this happen? I was as good as dead technically. Every single waking moment could be my last.

Physically ill, emotionally drained, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, I should have been hysterical, but I wasn’t. I was too shocked to function, and quite frankly, I was too afraid to express any emotion.