Alice's POV
The mansion was just the same.
But I've changed.
The gate creaked open as if years have not passed since it last opened. The hedges were too well-trimmed, too spotless, as if the memory of the blood that once seeped into this place was being obliterated. The fountain in the courtyard still dripped as if a fabricated broken heartbeat.
But I wasn't here as a child.
But rather as reckoning.
I stepped out of the cab with one dented suitcase and a stitched-together heart made of anger and recollection. My heels pounded the broken stone driveway with determination, each pound a requiem for the girl I used to be and the woman I was left with after what happened here.
The front door opened before I could knock.
Elijah.
His eyes swept me-my face, my body, the white-knuckled hand I had on the handle of my suitcase.
He did not say anything at first but just yanked me into a hard hug that left me gasping.
"I didn't think you were going to do it," he whispered in my hair.
"I didn't think I'd have to," I gasped back. "But here we are."
He moved just far enough to look at me. His jaw tensed. "You look. older."
I sneered. "Thanks. Always wanted to hear that after five years of hiding."
His eyes eased. "You look stronger. That's what I meant."
I remained silent. I didn't have to.
His hand grazed mine for a second before he said, low and guardedly, "He does look just like him, doesn't he?"
I nodded into his shoulder, unable to speak. The truth was not something that had to be stated between us.
"Where is he?"
Safe. With Mia. For now."
I exhaled.
My son. Noah.
Five years old. Curious. Alive. In hiding with me while I went back to hell.
Elijah led me in, and I braced myself as the door closed behind me. The air was thick with spectres.
The very same accursed stairs where I had stood trembling at eighteen, begging my father not to go to that meeting.
The very same accursed corridor where I last saw Jermin-blood on his knuckles, lying in his eyes.
The same goddamn floor where I dropped to my knees when I got the call: Liam Monroe is dead. Shot twice in the head. Execution style.
"This place is like a coffin," I said.
This is what it was because it is.
He took me to my father's office. Everything was dusty: the desk, the bookshelves, the leather armchair that creaked as if it remembered him. I ran my fingers over the edge of the desk, trembling.
_____________________________________
Flashback
"You're not safe here, Alice."
My father had already told me this. Low voice instructing one to listen.
"There are some people whose death would never stop them from killing you just to crack me up. And that guy, he's not like us. Not yet."
He knew. He always knew.
He used to come see me months after Jermin broke me. Pregnant. Alone. Broken. I had not even thought about telling him-but he knew everything the moment he looked into my eyes.
He made me disappear.
He gave me a new last name from a small Italian town. Money. Silence.
And then he got killed.
He had only days left before he was going to make an official statement of his retirement and the reveal of his enemies.
Enemies like the Hunts.
______________________________________
End Flashback
"You still think they did it, don't you?" Elijah said behind.
I nodded.
"The evidence was destroyed. His soldiers were silenced. His will was rewritten-"
"And I was exiled."
I stood in front of him, cold tone. "By Jermin's mother. Don't leave out that point."
That lovely witch came to my sanctuary shortly after the funeral. She made the most enticing offer and yet the bleakest threat.
"By loving him, you will stay away. If ever you come back. I will kill your child before his first birthday."
I left.
But I never forgot.
Elijah leaned back in the doorway with his arms folded. "You should have told me where you were. I might have been useful."
I pulled away. "You were already a suspect. If I kept calling, they would've killed you too."
He didn't complain.
"And now, five years later," I continued, "I'm here. With a child. With a plan. With nothing left to lose."
"I'm going to marry him," I declared.
Elijah rose from his seat, blinking as if he hadn't just heard me right. "You're what?"
"That name is the key to rekindling the old allegiances. I still have it. I'm going to offer myself to them. Let them think me weak. Pliable. The grieving daughter, in search of sanctuary."
He looked at me with eyes bulging in horror. "You're walking into the lion's den."
"I go into the lion's maw."
He cursed under his breath, pacing. "Alice, this is not a game. That boy is not safe. He is not the same boy who would steal flowers for you under your balcony. He has become harder now. More unkind."
"So am I."
His eyes flashed to mine. "You're not. Not entirely. You still have a heart."
I came closer, voice barely above a whisper. "Not anymore. Not since they took it all."
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "What about Noah?"
My heart ached even to utter his name. The way he uttered mama in his sleep. The way he wrapped my scarf tightly around him when he missed me. The way his eyes—Jermin's eyes—lit up when I vowed to come back safely.
"He is why I'm doing this," I told him. "One day, he'll ask where his grandfather was, why we had to run, and I am not going to let the answer be that I was too scared to fight."
Elijah sat silent for a very long time. Then, once, he nodded.
"Then let's make sure they never see you coming."
I turned from the window again, gazing back to where I played when I was a girl-child filled with memories of last breaths.
My mind gazed back at me over the glass. Scarred. Cold
er. Harder.
Alice Monroe came back.
And she would not leave without blood.