by Elodie Colt
I nod. “And Elenka?”
A beaming smile builds on her face. “My Elenka… After what you’d done to her, she was so reclusive, so introverted and eager to push people away, I knew that only love could get her out of her misery. So, I tweaked eNtimacy’s algorithm a little.”
She lets the sentence hover in the void-like space, and I can’t help but utter, “What?”
“I tried to find the perfect match for her, and I found it in Nathan Crawford.”
“Yeah, the algorithm calculated a ninety-four percent match,” I muse.
“Not the algorithm,” she argues. “Mother instinct. According to eNtimacy’s numbers, they would have never hit such a high score, so I pulled some strings. It wasn’t easy. Nathan constantly lost faith in himself, so I took over Crawly’s body from time to time to lead him to her.” She juts out her non-existing chin. “Killed two birds with one stone—handing Elenka the perfect man and bringing the family together. Now, I can finally rest in peace.”
I ponder over that for a moment. “But why go the long way round? Why not just intervene in my fate sooner and kill me years ago? After all, I was the one who poisoned your daughter’s soul…”
“Who would have killed the rapist then that broke into her house?” she throws back at me, rendering me speechless. “Besides, ending your life today was not my choice.”
“Whose choice was it then?”
“Mine,” a croaky voice says, and it takes me a moment to realize that it is, in fact, Mrs. Miller materializing next to me. “I did you a favor, boy. That fucking thyroid cancer would have killed you anyway.” She nods to the invisible lump in my throat. “And trust me, it wouldn’t have been a pretty exit. Ironic, huh? I ended your suffering, you ended mine. The gout was my daily torture. I was already living too long, but too weak to take my life. Couldn’t even hold that gun to my head with my crumpled fingers… Guess we’re even now, Luka Sokolov.”
I send her a respectful nod before I glance back down at Planet Earth where Elenka bumps into a guy who looks like a cowboy version of Johnny Depp.
“And whose doing is that dude?”
“Jack?” Mrs. Miller croaks. “My grandson. He and Ella crossed paths some time ago by accident.”
I frown. “What’s he good for? He’ll only make Nathan Crawford jealous.”
“And save Zoya’s life,” Marina throws in. “Ella will get a new gun from him and become a professional shooter. In two years, she will take down the guy who breaks into the gallery and holds Zoya hostage.”
“Wow, that’s—”
“Luka…” a soft, familiar voice floats through me from behind, and I would have cried if I had any tears to shed. God, she’s so beautiful, even now that she’s almost thirty years older.
“Annika,” I mumble, and I swear I can feel her arms snaking around me. “My God, Annika, you’re here…”
She chuckles. “Of course, silly. Where else would I be?”
Yeah, where else? She’s here because of you.
But the gruesome thought vanishes as quickly as it came. I can feel that Annika never blamed me for how she lost her life at such a young age. It was an accident, and deep down, I know she’s right.
Smiling, she tugs at my hand, if such a thing is even possible. “Come. It’s time.”
“Time for what?”
That’s when I see them. And no matter what Marina said, no matter what this place is called, there is no doubt that this is Heaven. It is my Heaven.
Mother. Father. Yelena—the sister I’d never had because she was born without life, dead before she even saw the light of day.
They are all here. My family.
Annika smiles up at me. “Time to find eternal salvation.”
28
Ella
Don’t look. Fight it. He can’t creep up on you. You saw him die.
Then why does it feel as if someone is watching me?
I try to focus on unwrapping my sandwich, fighting the urge to glimpse over my shoulder. Two weeks have passed since my nightmare came to an end. Two weeks of basking in my new-found freedom, moving stuff from Zoya to Nathan’s, and enduring awkward moments with Brooke Crawford.
She’s nice enough, I guess, considering who I am to her… Her ex-husband’s bastard daughter, her biological son’s half-sister, and her adoptive son’s girlfriend. That’s some serious shit to cope with, man. Anyway, she’s getting divorced from Vincent to start a new chapter of her life with Carl Kelly—the owner of eNtimacy, Dad’s best friend, and now, ironically, Brooke’s new lover. She’s left Crawford Crescent to move with him to Staten Island which makes me, believe it or not, the gallery’s new CFO & CMO. The position comes with a salary so high, I placed an automatic monthly bill payment of half of the sum to the NGO Women’s Empowerment.
Reclining on the bench, I shove the sandwich into my mouth and lick the mayonnaise from my lips. My appetite has returned, and I’m glad to see my hips have built up some fat reserves again. I trail my gaze over Central Park, watching couples enjoy the sunny day and kids chase each other around trees.
It’s odd. Luka is gone. My only wish has come true. And yet, my mind wanders back to him every day.
Don’t misunderstand me, he deserved to die, but now that he’s dead, the relief I feel always leaves a sour taste of remorse on my tongue. There’s no doubt that, if Hell exists, Lucifer reserved him a front-row seat, but still, I hope he’s atoned for all his sins during his life on earth. His obsession with me had been punishment enough. Ultimately, it hadn’t always been me who wasn’t free. He had been the one in chains, unable to move on. Shackled by his love for me and confined by my existence.
Something rustles behind me, and I yelp, dropping mayonnaise all over my jeans. The bushes sway as something moves, and I swear my heart drops into my panties when a hooded figure appears.
Luka?
No, it can’t be…
“Vincent!” I whisper-yell when the man lowers his hood enough for me to see his features. “I mean… Dad?”
Panicked, I swing my head from left to right, hoping no one is close enough to spot the ‘notorious art stealer,’ who’s now—according to CNN—also a brutal murderer on the run.
“Hello, Ella,” he says in that warm, gentle tone I’ve only heard once.
Hastily, I wipe the mayonnaise from my jeans. “What are you doing here? Shit, someone could see you!”
He lowers himself onto the bench next to me. “Relax, Ella. I’m safe. For now…”
I regard him sideways as he props his arms onto his knees to stare out at Central Park. He looks like the gangster the public claims him to be, with wide trousers, heavy boots, and a hooded jacket. His stubble has grown into a full beard, hiding the smile he’s sending me.
I throw the leftovers of my sandwich into the trash next to me.
“Please, tell me you haven’t been stalking me. Had enough stalkers on my heel, don’t you think?” I hiss under my breath.
His lips hint at a smile, one that tells me he’s been keeping an eye on me for some time before he glances down at my hand where the alexandrite ring sparkles in the sunlight.
“I’m glad it found its way back to you,” he remarks in a nostalgic tone.
I nod absently, twisting the ring around my finger. The air is heavy with unsaid words and unanswered questions, but I know it’s not the right time to bring them up. Something tells me our chat will be the last one for a very long time.
“Vincent… I mean, Dad,” I mutter, “I never wanted you to—”
“I know,” he cuts me off. “But I wanted to. It was the least I could do after everything you’ve been through.”
I huff. “The least you could do… Killing someone in my place?”
“What’s done is done.”
We savor a moment of mutual silence until I break it with, “Where will you go now?”
Clenching his jaw, he wrings his hands. “I was thinking about visiting her grave.”
Mom’s grave
.
I swallow. “Give her a kiss from me.”
“Will do.” He slaps his hands onto his knees and stands up. “I promise to be back for your wedding.”
“My wedding? You mean Nick’s.”
A knowing smile seeps through his lips. “No, yours. I know my son. He won’t wait for long, not after everything he’s been through to get you back. And I’m already looking forward to meeting my grandchildren,” he adds with a wink.
I bark out a laugh, but it sounds a little off. “Now that is definitely in the far future, Dad. One step at a time, yeah?”
“Ah, I don’t know, honey. I’ve got this feeling you’ll find yourself with a baby in your arms soon enough.”
I blink at him but decide to let it slide when he places a hand on my shoulder in a final goodbye.
“Wait… How can I reach you? Where can I find you?”
“I will find you.” Pulling his hood down low again, he takes a few steps backward. “Take care of yourself, Ella.”
And with that, he disappears into the trees, leaving me crushed and with a million thoughts churning in my head. I stand from the bench and make my way back to the gallery.
‘I’ve got this feeling you’ll find yourself with a baby in your arms soon enough.’
The echo of his words makes me instinctively splay my fingers over my belly. Don’t be stupid, Ella, you’re not pregnant. I’ve been on the pill ever since I started dating Nathan at Silent Sins. I’ve never missed taking it, save for the two weeks with Luka. And then, when Nathan and I had sex, I quickly got myself the morning-after-pill.
Quickly as in… three days later.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
My head swivels up at the gruff voice, and I do a double-take when I realize who I just bumped into. “Jack?”
The lazy, I’m-your-undoing smile creeps up his lips. “Hello, stranded girl.”
“Damn,” I drawl. He looks like a farm boy who got lost in the Big Apple with his trademark flannel-shirt, dusty cowboy boots, and a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. “What are the odds?”
“Indeed…” he grumbles, giving me a once-over that reminds me of the heated moment we shared. “That stalker still on your heels?”
Biting my lip, I clear my throat. “He’s… not an issue anymore.”
Jack narrows his eyes at me, smirking. “Did you put a bullet in his head like I taught you?”
“Uh, not exactly. I lost my gun.”
He munches on his toothpick. “You ever need a new one, you know where to find me.”
I chuckle. “I might take you up on that.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.
Nathan: Still at lunch, baby? Need you in the office.
Jack peeks down at my phone, and I lock the screen. “Well, don’t keep lover boy waiting, baby.”
I scratch my head, and he smirks at my uneasiness, sending me a wink.
“See you around, stranded girl.”
“Ella,” I say when he turns to leave. “My name is Ella, by the way.”
He grins and taps his hat before he disappears into the Manhattan crowd.
Shaking my head, I make my way back into the gallery, but just as the elevator doors open on the office floor, I run smack into a female figure.
Aiko.
My blood pressure shoots up at the sight of her.
“You,” I seethe, getting into her face with a sneer. “Listen, and listen closely, sweetheart.” I poke a finger above her tits that are about thrice as big as mine. “I don’t care if this Sharipova project is finished or not, but I don’t want to see you ever again anywhere near—”
“You won’t,” she interrupts me, swinging her Louis Vuitton bag from one shoulder to the other. “My work here is done. I just came here to tell Nathan that I’ve changed my name. I’m not a Crawford anymore.”
Stunned, I drop my hand. She glances down at the ring on my finger, her lips hinting at a rueful smile.
“Nathan is serious with you. It’s time for me to accept that. I wish you all the best, Ella.”
With a respectful nod, she brushes past me, and I stand there for a minute, watching her strutting down the hallway.
“Ella,” Nathan calls for me, and I swivel my head to him standing in the doorway of his office. I make my way over to him, and he pulls me in for a sweet kiss, but the tight smile I unveil makes him tilt his head. “Everything okay?”
Yeah, just had a chat with my lost Dad who’s running from the FBI before I bumped into the only guy who got close to me other than you, and then I ran into your ex-wife. A normal day at work, eh?
I laugh at the irony. “Of course. Everything is perfect.”
He gives me a tender look before he beams a bewitching smile my way. “Not perfect yet.”
“What do you mean?”
Taking my hand, he pulls me over to the art niche in the wall.
“I wanted to do the whole charade, you know,” he starts. “Get you a nice dress, take you somewhere fancy… But then I figured, why wait a minute longer? Life’s too short to wait for perfect moments that might never come, right?”
“Uh,” I mutter, not knowing where he’s going with this until… “Oh, my God.”
He gets down on one knee, pulling out a square, black velvet box.
“Ella… You captured my heart long before I got to see your face or heard your name. I fell in love with your voice, your body, and your soul. I fell in love with your laughs, your tears, and your moans. I fell in love with your strengths, your weaknesses, and your fears.”
I stop breathing as he clicks open the box where a beautiful, gold dragonfly ring rests on the velvet pad—a matching piece to my pendant.
“My dragonfly girl… Will you marry me?”
‘I know my son. He won’t wait for long, not after everything he’s been through to get you back.’
Well, Daddy, you hit dead center with that one.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” is the only thing I can mutter in my delirium.
Nathan cocks an eyebrow at me. “Three letters, please.”
“Okay…”
“That’s four letters,” he says with a smirk. “Do I need to get you dyslexia therapy?”
I snort. God, how much I love this man and his humor…
“Get up.” I tug at his hand, and he rises to his feet, the box still in his outstretched hand. “Yes, Nathan. Yes, I want to marry you.”
“Thank God,” he utters in fake relief and slides the dragonfly ring onto my finger.
“From Susan?” I ask, chuckling when I remember her saying she’s got a matching engagement ring for my pendant that day at the gallery.
Nathan huffs. “She practically forced me to choose that ring.”
Laughing, I glance from the alexandrite ring on my other hand to the still empty sixth nook in the wall.
“Let me guess… You want to marry on the sixth of June?”
“Hell, no.” He scoffs. “You think I’m going to wait an entire year to make you mine? Nick’s wedding is in four weeks. What about a double wedding?”
“You want to marry in four weeks?” I ask with raised eyebrows.
“July fourteenth. No number six in it, so a perfect date, don’t you think?”
I huff, shaking my head before grabbing his face and pulling him down for a kiss. “July fourteenth it shall be, then, hubby.”
“Hm, I like the sound of that, Ella Crawford.”
I smile over his lips, moving my hands to his suit jacket to push it down his arms. Grabbing my waist, he pushes me up against the wall, his seductive growl promising a hot office quickie that makes me greedy to get us both naked.
“Wait,” he mumbles over my lips, and I frown when I see his gaze on the sixth nook next to us, his hand slipping into his pocket to pull something out. It’s a small, crumpled piece of paper, wrinkled and torn at the edges as if he’d unfolded it plenty of times in the past.
“What’s this?” I ask
when he smooths it out and places it on the velvet pad.
I crane my head to peek at the handwriting now on full display in the nook underneath the spotlight. ‘Ella Jenkins’ it says in scrawly, pen-written letters.
“One of the most precious things I own,” he answers my question in a nostalgic tone. “Carl sent it to me. After months of searching for you, he finally gave me your name written on that note. I’ve kept it ever since.”
Despite the emotions pushing tears into my eyes, I say, “And you want this in your art niche? Next to a two-million Harry Winston necklace?”
His fingers are suddenly on my chin, pushing my head back to look at him. “Baby… This piece of paper is priceless.”
~~~ The End ~~~
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