THE HEIR'S REVENGE

chapter 60

"Yes," I said.

"I want to say something and I need you to let me finish before you respond."

"Okay," I said.

She looked at me directly.

"I like you," she said. "I have been trying not to like you for about two months and it has not worked at all and I think the most sensible thing at this point is to just say it out loud and stop pretending otherwise." She paused.

"I like who you are. I don't like you because you are the Blackwell heir or my employer. I like you because you are the kind of person who cooks stir fry pasta for a six year old and sits on the floor of corridors and reads acquisition documents at two in the morning and carries a purple ribbon on his wrist because a child tied it there." She paused again. "That person. I like that person very much."

I looked at her.

She was looking back at me with those calm direct eyes and her hair down in the Sunday morning light and her hands in her coat pockets.

I thought about everything I could say. About the complications. The fact that she worked for me. The timing with everything that was still happening with Victoria and the trial. The sensible reasons to be careful.

Then I thought about how none of those reasons had stopped me from thinking about this moment since Tuesday.

"I like you too," I said.

She looked at me for a second.

Then she laughed. A surprised happy laugh.

"That is it?" she said. "That is your response?"

"I thought you wanted something simple," I said.

"I did," she said. "Simple is good."

She was still smiling.

I was smiling too.

We stood there on the Sunday morning pavement smiling at each other like two people who had been careful for a very long time and had finally decided that being careful was taking up too much energy.

"Same time next Sunday?" she said.

"Same time next Sunday," I said.

She nodded once. Then she turned and walked away down the street.

I watched her go.

The Sunday morning city moved around me. A dog ran past on a lead. A child on a bicycle wobbled by with a parent jogging alongside. A couple walked past holding coffee cups and talking quietly.

Ordinary Sunday morning things.

I put my hands in my pockets and walked back toward the car.

I was smiling the whole way.

When I got home Lily was in the sitting room with Henry.

She looked up the moment I came through the door.

She studied my face for approximately two seconds.

Then she said: "It went well."

"It was just coffee," I said.

"Your face says differently," she said and went back to her book.

Henry looked up from his newspaper. He looked at my face the same way Lily had. Then he looked back at his newspaper.

"There is lunch ready in the kitchen," he said. "The cook made jollof rice."

"Thank you Henry," I said.

"Of course, young master," he said.

I went toward the kitchen.

Behind me Lily said to Henry in a loud whisper: "I told you."

Henry said nothing.

But I heard what sounded very much like a page being turned with a small amount of satisfaction.

I was eating lunch when my phone rang.

Henry's name.

I picked up even though Henry was in the next room which meant the call was about something he did not want Lily to hear.

"Young master," he said quietly. "I just received a message from our contact."

I put my fork down.

"Victoria left the Ashford house this morning," he said. “He said she left very early, before six. She took one bag. She did not use her registered car. She was picked up by a vehicle we do not recognise."

I was quiet.

"Where did she go?" I asked.

"We do not know yet," he said. "But our contact at the prosecutor's office has been notified. The border authorities have been alerted." He paused. "She is moving."

I looked at the jollof rice on the plate in front of me.

Ten minutes ago I was standing on a Sunday morning pavement smiling like someone who had finally found something good.

Now this.

I looked at the kitchen doorway. Through it I could hear Lily in the sitting room telling Henry something about her book.

This was why I could not stop. Not yet. Not while Victoria was still out there making moves.

"I am on my way," I said.

"There is no need to come in today," Henry said. "Everything is in motion. There is nothing to do right now except wait for the contact to call back."

"Then I will wait here," I said.

"Yes," Henry said. "That would be best."

I put my phone down.

I picked up my fork.

I ate my lunch.

But the smile from Fenwick Street was gone now and in its place was the familiar focused cold feeling that arrived whenever Victoria moved.

She had one move left.

Henry had said that.

Either she was going to surrender or she was going to do one more careful thing.

I did not believe Victoria Pierce would surrender.

Which meant whatever she was doing this Sunday morning with one bag and an unregistered car was the last thing she was going to try.

And I needed to be ready for it.

I was not going to fold my hands and watch Victoria take important things and people away from me. I was going to fight and made sure I fought her to my bone.

This was not the time when I was with the Pierce family. This time I had everything she had, money, fame and power so I was going to do everything I could to save myself from her traps.

Now, I don't care anymore about anyone's feelings. I was going to get things done without caring if I was hurting anyone's feelings.

I was not doing anything wrong, I just wanted to have the right to fight for what I loved but seeing I couldn't fight for them, the right way, I am willing to do it the other way.

I didn't care about the consequences.

I just wanted peace.