…No Alder alter shattering the little hope she had left.
Willow's shoulders slumped as she pouted, her eyes glistening with the weight of rejection. She slowly sat back on the chair, arms wrapped around herself like a child needing comfort. But then, a spark of determination lit up her features. She straightened, a wild idea forming. Without thinking twice, she got up from the couch barefoot, her steps light but hurried as she made her way to Alder, who stood stiffly behind the couch.
"How about staying with me for like three months…?" she asked hopefully, only to quickly wave her hands and shake her head with urgency. "No, no, no, no," she said repeatedly, her voice rising with each word, flailing her arms like she could swat the idea away.
"Stay with me for two months and if you still don't want me you can leave," Willow said, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes dropped for a second, as if she'd just remembered—she doesn't even have up to three months left anymore.
"Willow," Alder said, his voice calm but sharp. He took a step forward, his intense gaze locking with hers. "Look me in the eye."
Willow met his eyes with a shaky breath, forcing a small smile as if pretending nothing was wrong.
"What are you planning?" he asked, his brows furrowed in suspicion, his arms now crossed over his chest.
"Nothing," she replied quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched. She stepped forward to hug him, arms stretched wide with an almost desperate need for closeness, but he stepped back, jaw tightening.
"I just want to be with you," she said, her voice softening, barely a whisper now as she hugged herself instead.
"Why?" Alder asked, his voice low and careful, like he was trying to understand the depth behind her words. His eyes scanned her face, searching for the truth.
Willow's lip trembled slightly. She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes in mock frustration. "The problem is I got the news you want to get married to what's her name… Flora, yeah…" she said, the name sounding like poison on her tongue. "Your family kept promoting it all over the media, like they wanted me to know…"
"...So?" Alder cut in, tilting his head, his tone cool and unreadable.
"So I got jealous, and I couldn't take it anymore. So I got angry and came to you," Willow lied, her voice cracking under the pressure. Her face contorted into an angry expression, but her hands nervously wrung the hem of her shirt. Then, she pressed her lips into a thin line—the way she always did when she was lying or nervous.
Alder stared at her, silent. Seconds passed. He blinked slowly, then spoke in a low, certain voice, "You're lying."
"I'm not!" she snapped, her brows furrowed, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and the sting of being seen through.
"Whatever," Alder muttered, dismissing her words. He turned away, walking toward the hallway. Without looking back, he said, "Go wear your slippers. I can't take care of my abductee if you get sick."
Willow smiled faintly behind him, her eyes softening. She turned and padded back to her seat.
"Just admit you still care about me," Willow said with a hopeful smile, curling her knees up to her chest as she stared at him with longing eyes.
---
Smith Mansion
"Mom!" Leif shouted, his voice echoing through the expansive hall as he stormed in, his face red with frustration.
Juniper turned slowly from the console table where she had been rearranging a vase, her eyes narrowing with annoyance. "What's the matter?" she asked sharply, arms folded.
"Mom, why did you do that?" Leif asked, chest heaving slightly from the rush of emotion.
"What?" Juniper replied with a faux-innocent tilt of her head, though her eyes glinted with defiance. Upstairs, Iris and Sage descended the stairs, alarmed by the noise.
"What's the problem, Leif?" Iris asked, her voice concerned but firm.
"Mom, what's going on?" Sage added, her eyes darting between them.
"I don't know what Leif is shouting for," Juniper said coolly, not even blinking.
"Okay, what's going on with the news?" Leif demanded, his voice rising, his fingers twitching at his sides.
"What news?" Juniper asked, still feigning ignorance, one eyebrow arching.
"Why did you declare Willow wanted? I thought we agreed not to make Alder's abduction public!" Leif exclaimed, gesturing wildly with both hands.
"I only did what any mother would do. My son is missing, and you expect me not to do anything?" Juniper shot back, eyes flashing with anger.
"Why would you declare Willow wanted? You're going to ruin her life!" Sage said, stepping forward, her voice trembling with emotion, her hands clenched at her sides.
"Sage, I know Willow was once your best friend, but she was wrong for kidnapping your brother and ruining Flora's day," Iris said coldly, her gaze disapproving as she addressed Sage. Her posture was rigid, her nose slightly raised in judgment.
"Are you saying declaring her, wanted is the right thing to do?" Leif asked Iris, his tone sharp and accusing.
"I know she's your favorite too, but if she doesn't want to be called a criminal, she should stop acting like one," Iris replied, her eyes narrowing as she faced her husband.
"I can't believe you two," Leif muttered, his voice tight with disappointment. He turned away, pacing briefly.
"Even if Willow took Alder with her, we all know she won't hurt him..." he added, trying to appeal to their reason.
"That was the same person who chose money over him in a heartbeat," Iris said coldly. "And we all heard him saying she should untie him."
Sage opened her mouth, her lips parting to speak in Willow's defense, but then she closed it again, uncertainty clouding her expression. Her shoulders sagged.
"I don't care what you both say. I will make sure to ruin that girl and make sure she ends her lifetime in prison," Juniper declared, her tone icy. She turned on her heel and strode away without a backward glance.
Leif looked at his mother ascending the stairs before stared daggers at his wife, then silently left the mansion as well.
Sage turned to Iris, her voice quiet and confused. "I know you don't like Willow, and I'm not in support of her choosing money over him, but why do you hate her so much?"
"I don't hate her. I have no reason to. But I'm not in support of her committing crimes," Iris said, lifting her chin and walking off without another word.
Sage stood alone in the hall, torn. Her heart pulled in both directions—her family on one side, and the girl who once meant the world to her on the other.
---
Larkspur House
"Mom, did you hear the news?" Maple said as she walked in, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
"What news?" Silas Larkspur asked, sitting up straighter in her armchair.
"Willow kidnapped someone," Maple said casually, flopping onto the couch beside her mother.
"What?" Rachael gasped, dropping the book in her lap.
"Willow did what?" Silas asked from behind his newspaper, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief. Asking the same time as his wife
"She kidnapped Alder," Maple said, arms crossed, her expression annoyed as if this whole thing was an inconvenience.
"Which Alder?" Rachael asked, eyes wide with worry.
"Hope it's not who I'm thinking…" Silas added anxiously talking the same time as his wife again.
"Can you both stop talking at the same time?" Maple's irritation surfaced, her patience wearing thin. She shot them a glare before continuing, "It's Alder Smith."
"Why did she do that?" Rachael asked, still looking stunned.
"She forgot to tell me the reason she did that," Maple replied with sarcasm, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Rachael glared at her daughter, unimpressed.
Maple crossed her legs and tossed her hair. "My problem right now is what'll happen if they come back to ask us for the money from four years back."
"That won't happen," Rachael said quickly, though her voice was tight with unease.
"What if it happens?" Maple shot back, eyes narrowing.
Silas began murmuring under his breath, like a mantra, "That must not happen, it must not happen." His hands trembled slightly as he folded them tightly together.
Maple hissed through clenched teeth, "I don't know why your good daughter always causes trouble for us. Of all the things she could do—she decided to kidnap?"
Rachael's voice shook with worry. "If that happens, won't we end up in jail?"
Maple scoffed, sitting back heavily on the couch. "Why would we end up in jail? Willow will end up in jail for not honoring her promise."
"We accepted the money, not Willow. In fact, she knows nothing about it and promised nothing to anyone," Silas said nervously, casting furtive glances at the door. Suddenly, his phone rang, and his face tightened in shock at the caller ID.
"What? Who's that?" Rachael asked, her voice trembling as she stared at Silas's shocked expression.
A cold, clipped voice cut through the room. "Hello, Mrs…"
The caller interrupted Silas mid-sentence without any polite preamble, "Did you see what your daughter did?"
Silas swallowed hard. "We know nothing about what she did."
"She knows nothing about the money you collected either," the caller shot back, voice like ice.
"You better find your daughter, wherever she is, before I get you all arrested," the caller threatened.
"We don't know where she is, Mrs. Smith," Silas replied, voice tight, speaking to Juniper on the phone.
"I don't care how you do it, get Willow, so I can get my son," Juniper said, then abruptly cut the call.
Rachael's face paled. "This is getting serious."
"They're just threatening. They can't do anything," Maple said, her voice trying to calm both her mother and herself, though her hands trembled slightly in her lap.
"Threatening?" Silas repeated, disbelief creeping into his tone.
"Yes, Dad. If the secret comes out, how will she explain that we collected the money and not Willow? Even Juniper won't want that secret out," Maple said, a new confidence bolstering her words.
Rachael's eyes flickered with doubt. "Are you sure?"
Maple shrugged, a weak smile barely touching her lips. "Let's just hold onto that faith." She sounded unsure even to herself.
Silas gripped his phone and started dialing.
"Who are you calling?" Rachael asked anxiously.
"Willow," he answered quietly.
"She will never pick up," Maple muttered, biting her lip.
"She's not picking up," Silas sighed and collapsed heavily onto the couch, running a hand through his hair.
"Your good daughter is always causing us one problem or another," Maple said, voice thick with sarcasm.
"Can you shut up?" Silas echoed, voice rising. "At least she doesn't cause trouble every time like you."
"Yes, because I cause little trouble at a time. But Willow? She always causes big trouble that lasts decades to settle." Maple stood abruptly, tension crackling around her as she stormed toward her room.
Rachael sat silently, hands clenched together. "What do we do now?"
Silas closed his eyes briefly. "I don't know. I just hope we won't be implicated in this matter."
---
Willow's Side — Two Days Later
Willow sat at the dining table, fingers steady as she sketched a series of footwear designs, though the black heel with silver accents she was currently painting seemed to hold all her attention.
Alder appeared quietly at her side, peering over her shoulder. "What do you think?" Willow asked, trying to sound casual.
"It's nothing compared to Imperial," Alder said with a shrug, settling opposite her.
Imperial—one of Willow's greatest works—was an entirely black heel, every detail painted with deep, absorbing black.
"Are you saying this isn't good enough?" Willow asked skeptically, staring at her drawing again.
"Just saying it's inferior," Alder replied, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Willow narrowed her eyes playfully, though she knew he was only pulling her leg. "Can't you just say it's beautiful?"
"Whatever," Alder said with a smirk.
"Why do you keep wearing black these days?" Willow pressed, watching him closely. "You know all these days I've noticed—you only wear black, and you never liked it before."
Alder locked eyes with her, voice low. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes," Willow said softly, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "I remember you only wore black because I liked the color. And I had to beg you a lot to wear it for me." She paused, grinning. "Or you're wearing it to remember me."
"That's true. I'm wearing it to remember that I once loved a lady…"
"Once?" Willow cut in, voice sharp.
Alder's gaze darkened. "Yes, I wear black every day to remind myself I need to hate the one who made me fall in love with black."
"Do you hate me now?" Willow's lips pressed into a thin line, the question barely a whisper.
Alder studied her face before replying, "Yes. More than I ever hated anything before in my life."
Willow stood abruptly, turning her back to him to hide the sting in her eyes. She could endure almost anything—but not Alder's declaration of hatred. Just as she was about to take a step away, his voice stopped her.
"Are we going to be locked up here forever? It's getting boring."
She cleared her throat, swallowing the lump in her throat, and forced her voice steady. "I told you to give me two months. I'll let you go."
"Let me go?" Alder raised an eyebrow. "Can't you see I'm staying here myself?"
Willow turned back to face him fully.
"Can you make me stay if I don't want to?" Alder asked, shaking his head with mock disbelief.
"So you're staying with me because you want to stay with me?" Willow's voice held a flicker of hope.
"No," Alder said, raising his palm and wagging his index finger from side to side. "I'm staying because I don't want to get married, and I needed a scapegoat. You happened to be available."
Willow sat back in her chair, a pout forming on her lips. "When does the great Alder, who doesn't listen to anyone, need someone to help him refuse a marriage?"
"It just happens," Alder said with a shrug.
Before Willow could respond, a voice crackled from a microphone nearby.
"Willow Larkspur, surrender yourself now. This whole house has been surrounded by the police."
Willow jumped from her chair, heart pounding, while Alder rose slowly.
"I think you're casted," Alder joked, trying to lighten the tension.
"Shut up!" Willow hissed, grabbing his hand. She snatched up her phone and car keys, leading him toward the back door.
Alder looked down at his hand held tightly by her and shook it gently. "What do you think you're doing?"
"What else?" Willow said firmly. "You're leaving with me."
She released his hand to reach for her sketchpad—but a sudden, sharp headache slammed into her skull. Dizziness blurred her vision, and she struggled to pack her sketches before everything went black.
The police officer's voice still echoed faintly in the background.