Vanquished (The Encounter #3)

by Pamela Ann

  The smile instantly vanished, replaced by a grave expression. “Paris … What happened in Paris is the very reason I’m asking you to run away with me. We might have to keep on running for the rest of our lives, but we’ll be together, Isobel. I don’t care what you think you have with Julien. You don’t love him, or you wouldn’t have made love to me last night. You can’t keep fooling yourself, because you sure as hell didn’t fool me, not after that.”

  As much as I wanted to address the latter parts of his statement, I knew I had to pry more on what had gone down in Paris, or I might never get the chance to ask him this. He had always avoided the subject. This was the first time he had even referenced it.

  “You’re asking me to run away with you, but we must keep on running away forever … I have to ask, Hugo, who are we running away from in the first place? Because it sure as hell is not Julien.”

  “If I tell you, will you be with me forever?” he asked cautiously, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I knew he wasn’t one to throw such an inane question if he didn’t mean every word of it. He wanted me—he wanted us—together … forever. As did I.

  Making a small, determined nod, I took a deep breath before answering his question. “Yes, I’ll be wherever you are. I’m yours, Hugo, no matter what.” If this was the only chance we had, I wouldn’t waste it. He owned me. “I love you, Hugo.”

  Sealing that promise with a kiss, I had to pull away after a few minutes because I didn’t want it to get out of hand. He still owed me an explanation, and I didn’t want to waste more time waiting for the truth.

  “I need to know more about Paris…”

  Reaching for my hand, he entwined it with his then leaned back against the headboard with a look that indicated he was far away, transported back to the past. I waited with bated breath before I heard his twisted tale.

  “My father had a twin. They were never really close, because they were so different from each other. They always ended up squabbling about something, be it business, personal—anything under the sun. They just couldn’t see eye to eye. My father kept his distance, and we only ever saw him during familial events, but after my mother died, things changed between them.

  “It was strange how, all of a sudden, they became the best of friends. It had to do with my father gravely mourning the loss of my mother. He went into severe depression, and for some odd reason, it was my uncle Giles who helped him cope with the pain. Hence, the drunken parties and excessive travelling for two years. They went on business meetings and projects like they should’ve done in the very beginning.

  “With my father drowning in his sorrow and trying to live again, he didn’t realize something was going on with Giles until later on. They were about to close this deal with a Russian oligarch when he heard the news that my uncle had run off with the Russian’s wife. Apparently, she was pregnant with my uncle’s child.

  “Her husband was actually a head of the mafia, and it didn’t take long before he had his people scattered over Europe, hunting them down. Once they were caught in Algeciras in Spain before catching a ferry to Tangier. The oligarch had them killed. He also ordered to make sure the baby was murdered first while Giles watched in horror.

  “My father hadn’t a clue what had happened until someone couriered an envelope that contained all the gory images of what had taken place that night. If that wasn’t evilly sadistic enough, the bastard also attached a note in the package. It stated that whenever my father and I fell in love, remarried, or fathered a baby, that woman and/or child would die. He believed my father encouraged the affair, so he deemed this a fitting punishment so that my father and I would know the kind of suffering he went through.”

  It stated that whenever my father and I fell in love, remarried, or fathered a baby, that woman and/or child would die …

  “Is that what happened to—” I paused as my heart galloped against my chest as Julien’s words registered in my mind once again.

  “… but you’d be best to pay heed. I’m not sure what those flowers signify, but it’s sending a loud message to Hugo. He doesn’t have a choice at this point but to let you go. So, whatever he advised you to do, don’t hesitate to do it, because however you want to look at this, you’re next …”

  “It might seem silly if you think of it, but there’s nothing to laugh about if you end up dead, Isobel.”

  I felt cold all over as I realized what this meant to me, to my life, to my unborn twins. Oh, God.

  “They killed her … your girlfriend in the bathtub. They killed her because you were in love with her.” Everything was making sense.

  Hugo shook his head before an ashen look came over his face. “No, that was never the case. Unbeknownst to me, Louise was pregnant with my child.” His crestfallen expression matched my own. “What happened in Paris … those chamomile flowers … Louise had that on her bed six months prior, and we found her with those blasted blooms floating around her dead body.

  “Later, I found out that it was Russia’s national flower. It was a statement he didn’t want me to miss, but I did miss it, or else she wouldn’t be dead. So, when that happened to you, Isobel, I knew I had to stay away from you to keep you safe. It was the only way I could convince his spies that I wasn’t in love with you. I had to set you free.”

  Oh, God! Oh, fucking God! I was next. They had to be watching me. That guy … that man with those eyes …

  I felt sick as horror filled me. I immediately ran to the bathroom, seeking the toilet and puking my guts out. How could this happen? I was as good as dead technically. Every single waking moment could be my last.

  Physically ill, emotionally drained, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, I should have been hysterical, but I wasn’t. I was too shocked to function, and quite frankly, I was too afraid to express any emotion.

  I wouldn’t get the chance to hold my babies. If the man was hell-bent on revenge, he would burn everything down that would bar him from achieving his goal. I was his target.

  There was a scorned, ruthless Russian mobster cunningly biding his time to give me my death slip. If Julien hadn’t been keeping me safe from the moment he found out I was pregnant, I would have been dead already; there was no doubt about it.

  I wanted to curl up and die on the terracotta floor, feeling utterly helpless, partly because I knew I couldn’t run away to be with Hugo just as I promised him before his revelation and the fact that we were simply pawns in a game of chess to be taken down one by one until the immoral man had his satisfying fill of gruesome retribution. If I wanted to live, I had to stay with Julien. It was all or nothing because this wasn’t about love anymore; this was about survival.

  Shutting my eyes, I sagged against the wall as my stomach protested with vengeance. I tried to breathe through my nostrils, hoping to make sense of things, feeling a little faint as I protectively held my abdomen, holding on to my sanity.

  I kept my eyes closed at the soft sound of footsteps making their way towards me. I didn’t want him to see my pain, nor did I want to see it etched in his eyes when I told him the news that I couldn’t be with him. It was so conflicting to be pulled in all these directions, but as much as I wanted to follow with my heart, it was a risk I couldn’t afford.

  “I’m sorry, Isobel,” he expressed, taking a seat next to me before pulling me close in his arms and holding me as if he didn’t want to let me go. “I apologize for everything—for not telling you. I’m sorry for fighting this curse to be with you because I can’t bear not having you in my life. Most of all, I’m sorry for not being sorry that I’m unquestionably, completely, and utterly in love with you.”

  Oh, my fucking damn. Why was it that, from the moment he spouted the words of love, he was constantly using them? Did he realize how much it affected me when he did something like that? I already felt like I was going to have a panic attack at the thought of telling him where I stood.

  “There’s no ounce of doubt how much I love you—don’t ever question it—but I
can’t be with you. It’s just too much of a risk for me.”

  He immediately tensed as I felt his heart quicken against my cheek. “I know it’s indisputably dangerous, but I’ll hire the best team of people to protect us. I don’t want to lose you, Isobel. I want this more than anything. I just want to be with you.”

  He wasn’t budging since I had already agreed before. He probably thought he could easily dissuade me. In a different world, it would have been possible, but not in ours. Ours was beyond complicated, and he had to understand how I couldn’t follow through. He just had to. He had left me no choice.

  “I’m pregnant, Hugo.” As the words uttered from my lips, I gently lifted my face off his chest, needing to see his face, his reaction. It was of no surprise to find it contorted, his pallor pale.

  He parted his lips, appearing as if he was having such a tough time forming the words to say. “You’re not … he’s not—”

  “They’re yours,” I interrupted before he had other designs in his mind. I could easily see where his train of thought was going with the way he was looking at me. “I’m having twins.”

  The look he gave me was truly priceless.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isobel

  Fully incredulous, Hugo threw me a skeptical look. “How? You’re on the pill.”

  Well, it wasn’t as if I had planned to impregnate myself. Did he seriously consider that?

  “I missed a few pills here and there. After we parted in Paris, I was so distraught the last thing on my mind was birth control.”

  “If that’s the case, then how can you be so sure it’s mine? It could be Julien’s. Maybe you’ve mixed the dates …” He was babbling, and then, all of a sudden, he had an alarming expression on his face as if he had just found Pandora’s box. “You … He’s marrying you because you’re pregnant.” His voice cracked a bit, and it tore me up inside.

  “Yes …” But I wasn’t going to start denying anything. Since he had laid out the truth for me, I should grant him the same courtesy, though it was still risky. “What are the odds, right? But I am.”

  “How can you be so sure that it’s mine? It could be Julien’s. We haven’t seen each other in weeks. He could’ve impregnated you then.”

  And here I had thought he deserved to know the damn bloody truth.

  “Thank you for reminding me how much of an asshole you are. It makes everything so much easier.” I stood up and harrumphed out of the bathroom, gathering my clothes and getting ready. I would be out here in a flash before Benoît even stepped out of the car.

  “Isobel!” he shouted, following my trail.

  Not bothering to look his way, I blatantly flipped him the finger. It should send him the right bloody message that he could kindly go fuck himself. His rude comment about my babies was uncalled for.

  “Merde. I’m sorry. I really am, Isobel,” he rushed out before capturing me in his hold by wrapping his arms around my hips and possessively holding me against his chest. “Forgive me, my love. Forgive me. I’m sorry for saying that,” he whispered against my ear, beyond remorseful.

  Fuck. If I was such a cold-hearted fool, hearing him apologize shouldn’t affect me so, but I wasn’t. And as much as I loathed to admit it, I could feel my body beginning to cool off as I took his apologetic words in.

  “I’m already going through so much; you can’t insult me like that. The next time you do that, I won’t be so forgiving.” It was a warning he should pay heed to because I was hormonal, and I wasn’t to be trifled with.

  “Thank you …” He kissed the side of my head, breathing me in as he held me dearly. “Does he know they’re mine?” he calmly asked a minute later, breaking my reverie.

  “Yes.”

  He tensed then blew out a breath. “Then why—” He caught himself. “Of course. His illogical actions make much more sense now.”

  Hugo should never have judged his friend. He should have known something was amiss. Julien and I had not been sure how Hugo would take the news.

  “What does Julien know? I mean, for him to offer himself to help me, it makes me wonder.”

  Julien had repeatedly said he didn’t know much at all, but he had hunches. He was a powerful man with vast resources at his disposal, though. As a result, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had it investigated out of curiosity. It involved his best friend, after all.

  “I tried to answer his questions after Louise’s death, but I couldn’t disclose everything. He seemed to be pacified by my answers, but he’s a smart man. He can put two and two together. He was worried about me after that, but I couldn’t reveal what plagues me. The curse will never disappear, not until the last Xavier man or woman is dead,” he solemnly said before twisting me around to face him with his warm hand cradling my face. “The bastard made sure of that by forming this special group, his disciples as he called them, living and breathing by his creed. It’s their sole purpose in life. I don’t have a way out, Isobel. Nor will you if you decide to keep the babies. There’s no end to this, only bitter death.”

  Bitter death … breathing by his creed… his disciples … I knew what I was in for, but the very thought of a small army of people hunting me down until me and my babies were dead … Fuck, that would be some twisted fuckery.

  “If they are passed off as Julien’s babies, it will work.”

  “You’re willing to take that monumental risk? What happens when they look like me? What then? It only takes a hair sample to test if they have my DNA. I wouldn’t put it past them to do such a horrendous thing. I’m cursed, Isobel, and there’s not enough money in this world to stop it.”

  He was becoming agitated in trying to drill the words into my head. However, I would take my chances with Julien. If I had to play pretend forever, then forever it would be. This was the only way.

  “I’m taking what Julien is offering me, Hugo. I know what you’re trying to say, but I won’t give up. I won’t ever terminate the twins. No. Just no!”

  He looked away, knowing he was losing a battle, before reverting his gaze back to me. “Who else knows?”

  “Just you and Julien—” I stopped before adding, “And the doctor in New York.”

  “Good. Tell no one else. None of your friends or family members,” he commanded then gave me a crestfallen look. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I see you ripe with my children, Isobel.” His voice shook. “I used to dream of having children…what they’d look like…how I’d teach my son to play football…how I’d look at you beaming with love with the sunset as the backdrop…” He was staring at my bare stomach before I saw his bottom lip quiver just as his hand touched my midsection. “I will watch from afar…I won’t ever stop loving you, these unborn babies…I will love you at a distance. Always know that, Isobel.”

  Jesus Christ. How could he say such haunting things? I would never be the same. “I’ll love you too, Hugo. Forever.”

  Amidst all the chaos, I followed my heart for the last time and made love to the man because goodbye was a breath away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hugo

  “It’s about time someone tells me what the fucking hell is going on!” Julien’s furious voice screeched into the phone receiver.

  I had just informed him that I had Isobel, so his outburst was justifiable since I should have called him sooner in case he had reported Isobel missing to the authorities. Thank heavens he hadn’t. For some odd reason, he’d had a hunch Isobel’s disappearing act at the yacht party sounded typical of me. Not to mention, some people he had asked had said she had been seen with me or someone closely resembling me, so it hadn’t taken time for him to put two and two together.

  Back to the present dilemma, I made this call intending to pursue Isobel’s plan with Julien, even though the thought of it—them being married—lacerated through me like laser so acute that I knew I wouldn’t be sane the moment they tied the knot. It wasn’t about me, however, nor her or Julien. This was about the twins and what I could do to support t
hem.

  Outsmarting someone who had a vendetta so big he had a massive network covering his tracks would be ludicrous, but it could happen. As it was, we prayed this madness of a notion would simply work in our favor.

  “We need to discuss matters privately. Tell no one where you’re going. Don’t bring any of your security, just you.” I didn’t directly give him my location, just innuendoes of where we were located. He had been here before, and I didn’t doubt his keen mind would get the drift. We were alike in so many ways; there was no worry to be given.

  After we hung up, I wasn’t much surprised that he didn’t press on the subject as to what we would be discussing. He already knew that I was aware of what the bloody hell was going on. I was hoping this would be resolved without going bonkers.

  The very thought of the woman I loved playing family with Julien and my children was causing havoc to my brain. Being understandable was an understatement, yet I had to make sure that I became a part of this, or I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. This was about their future, and I had to swallow the hurt, the pride, and sadness and man up for their sakes.

  The sickening yearn that had followed through each time I thought about the twins made me want to punch a wall. As much as I had taught myself over the years that I didn’t want children, I had secretly envisioned what it would be like to raise one of my own, and now the privilege would be passed to Julien.

  Knowing how jealous I could be, I would stay away. Otherwise, I would lose it. I wasn’t sure if I would be capable of withstanding the pain while I timidly smiled and pretended I was merely a family friend. There would be no point in living after this mess; I was sure of it.

  Each passing second that ticked by, I could feel life slowly dying inside of my heart, my soul. I was being eaten alive, and I didn’t have a chance of winning this battle over my heart.