Twisted Together
Sounds faded. The strain in my lungs no longer mattered.
Life tiptoed away from me, taking with it any promise of happiness I might’ve found by marrying my soul-mate.
But my soul-mate wanted me to leave with her. Her golden hand outstretched, glowing with welcome light. She wanted me to leave this black cold place.
I could be with her forever.
I want to be with you forever, esclave.
“Then let go. I’m waiting.”
I didn’t think why she appeared when she was living not dead. I didn’t stop to ponder how she found me. All I knew was what I wanted. And I wanted her.
I let go. I went to her. I obeyed my esclave.
Dying was such a simple thing.
I felt no guilt, no terror, no worries. Only acceptance for something I couldn’t change.
Darkness came for me.
My golden girl stuttered out.
The light she’d teased me was gone.
The sun turned to an eclipse and…I fell. Like an unwanted star I fell from the promise of heaven and plummeted to where I belonged.
Falling, falling.
Falling.
I fell straight into hell.
Chapter Thirteen
Matching darkness, mirroring light, truth and love we took flight,
one esclave and one maître, no longer captive or thief, just perfect certainty and belief
Franco’s phone rang.
I froze. Instincts screamed, slicing sharp fingernails of panic down the chalkboard of my spine.
The car turned from saviour, rushing us to Q’s aid, to a decaying coffin.
“Don’t—”
Franco glanced over, his vivid eyes dulling with horror. “I have no choice.” Shoving his uninjured hand into his trouser pocket, he pulled out the chiming doom.
Don’t let it be. Don’t.
We were almost there. The plane ride had driven me crazy—I would’ve sold my heart to be teleported or something to get us there faster. We’re so close!
It won’t be. It can’t be.
I couldn’t breathe as Franco held the phone to his ear. His face went deadly white. Not uttering a word, he passed the cell to me.
My fingers turned to ice-cubes; all I wanted to do was hurl the phone from the car window, smashing the bad news before it could be made real.
It’s not true.
He’s fine.
The phone was a vulture stealing my happiness as I placed it to my ear.
“Tess?” Frederick’s voice echoed all the way from Paris.
My heart went from beating to nothing. His tone said all I needed to know. I couldn’t move. Locked in my chair, I became a statue of grief.
Frederick sucked in a shaky breath. “You there? Tess?”
I knew.
I knew why he called. It didn’t matter we were ten minutes away. It didn’t matter we had an army behind us. It didn’t f**king matter. None of it.
Because my maître was gone.
I’d felt it.
An empty hollowness inside—gaping wide, cavernous.
“Don’t, Frederick.”
A long pause. No one spoke, breathed, lived. The world shut down forever.
“I’m so sorry, Tess…the frequency. It stopped.”
My heart replicated his words—turning from living to stone. The dawn on the horizon mocked me with a new beginning when I no longer had one.
My finger went to the reject button, cutting the call just as Frederick whispered, “He’s dead.”
He’s dead.
He’s gone.
He left without me.
Very slowly with infinite control, I passed the phone to Franco. He took it, brushing his fingers with mine. “Tess…”
I recoiled. I didn’t want anyone touching me. No one. Never again. Loving was a weakness. Touch was an annihilation. Q had destroyed me.
He’s gone.
The words pierced my heart with a thousand needles, puncturing my soul. He’s gone.
Everything inside—all the goodness, happiness, hopefulness…everything shrivelled up. My will to live turned to black ash, sifting from my pours like dirty rain. Everything I’d been through. It’d all been pointless.
He f**king left me.
Bastard.
Anger was better than grief. It filled the cavernous hole, giving me something to latch onto.
The toll had taken its final debt. In return for Q’s fortune, I’d been taxed too high. I’d been turned into a destitute widow.
He’s dead.
“Tess, it’s—” Franco gathered me in his arms, tugging me into his muscular bulk. I wanted to attack him. I couldn’t control the rapidly heating, freezing, churning, storm gathering inside.
I was sad. Then angry. Then weak. Then furious.
Shoving Franco away, I snarled, “Don’t touch me.”
The streetlights clicked off, giving way to the watery pink light of a new day. A new day without Q. A lifetime without Q.
Franco pulled something from his pocket. He smoothed the paper, holding it out. “He made me promise to give you this if…”
My body stiffened.
“If what? He thought he’d die? He planned for his death?”
Why did he make you sign the will?Everything—it’s all yours. He’d bequeathed everything to me. And he’d done it so fast…almost as if he operated against time.
I stole the letter. Tearing it open, I swallowed bubbles of rageful tears.
Tess,
If you’re reading this, then I guess…well, I don’t need to put it into words. You know what’s happened. Please don’t hate me. I didn’t leave you willingly. I know I have no right to ask this of you—but you can’t undo my hard work. Promise me you’ll keep living, esclave. Promise me you’ll stay alive. Franco knows what to do. Frederick will walk you through the future plans when you’re ready.
There really isn’t much else to say. I love you so f**king much. Never forget that. Never forget the connection we shared, or the knowledge I’m waiting for you. Somewhere.
Je suis à toi—
I scrunched the letter up, throwing it on the floor in a fit of temper. There was more. More promises. More requests. More declarations of undying devotions.
But I couldn’t read anymore. Lies. All of it.
Q had left me. He had no rights to me anymore. He had no right to make me promise not to enter my tower. He had no f**king right to ask me to continue living without him. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I can’t.
It’s not over.
My eyes narrowed, staring dry and tearless at the passing view. Q was dead. I’d paid my unpayable debt and now I wanted interest. I wanted what they’d stolen from me. I wanted a life for a life.