Redemption (The Bet)

by Phal, Francette

  "Devlin..." Miranda settled her handbag on the coffee table and proceeded to where her only child sat. "Darling." She crooned.

  He sat in his favorite chair, leather of course. It sat low to the ground, the rays from the sun shown its brilliant burgundy shade. His arms rested upon the wide arms of the couch, in his left hand he limply held on to a glass tumbler. His chestnut mane, showing the lack of care drooped lifelessly in his face, obscuring his weary, red-rimmed eyes from the world. A small forest of facial hair sprouted around his jaw, clearly indicating a few days without a shave. He wore a royal blue bathrobe made of fleece that was slightly opened at the throat to display the white shirt beneath and on his feet, he wore nothing.

  He looked a disparaging mess and Miranda hadn't the slightest idea what could've possibly caused this.

  "Devlin," She called again, strolling around to stand between him and the breathtaking view of the sky that held him captivated. She tentatively reached out and brushed his oily fringe from his face. "My love, what's happened? And where is Roan?"

  Vacant blue eyes peered back at her and for a long moment, Miranda held the image of grief within that one gaze, but soon, he turned away and touched his lips to the tumbler he held. "I had my chauffeur take him to school. I didn't want him to see me like this."

  "And why is that you are like this?"

  "She loved it here," he whispered absentmindedly, disregarding her gentle inquiry. "She used to love sitting here with me, doing nothing. Just sitting, enjoying the view...each other...I'm going to miss her." The tumbler found his lips once more.

  "Who? Ellie? Devlin, what in God's name is going on! And more importantly where is Ellie? Have you called her?" Miranda frantically inquired, dropping to her knees to better observe her troubled son.

  "I can't really tell you of Ellie's whereabouts, Mother, I don't even know." he sighed softly, finding that his tumbler had gone on empty, "although I can safely bet that she's shacking it up with Nicholas right about now."

  "Don't be ridiculous!" given the severity of the situation, Miranda was befitted the slight shrill in her voice. She could rightfully admit that she did not handle surprises very well and she was very surprised-astounded even that her son could say something so absurd with such a blasé demeanor. "Enough of this, Devlin!" she shook him as any caring parent would of a downtrodden child. "What's all this about? Did you and Ellie have an argument? Is that what this is? Do you wish for me to call her?"

  With a heaving sigh, Devlin rose to his feet, walking pass his kneeling mother, he ambled to the liquor cabinet, his movements sluggish and delayed. "Calling her won't make a difference, mother." he'd finished the bottle of bourbon last night and opened the whiskey this morning, by this evening that too would be gone. "She stopped caring about me the minute Nicholas stepped back into the picture." He swallowed the whiskey and unlike the rich, seduction of bourbon, the whiskey burned on its journey down his gullet. It was an abrasive, bitter sort of burn that didn't stop until he washed it down with a few gulps of saliva and even then, the taste remained.

  Just like his relationship with Ellie, the aftertaste, was acrid and painful.

  Dawning crossed Miranda's patrician features "She didn't…she couldn't have…"

  Devlin laughed humorlessly. "Oh but she did." He fingered the diamond ring, a memory flashed back to a few months ago, on the evening he'd slid the ring on Ellie's finger. Devlin had never felt so lucky. His joy then had only rivaled the birth of his son. "There isn't going to be a wedding."

  Miranda hurried to Devlin's side, her mind racing, incapable of understanding much of anything. "But…how? How did this happen, this can't be the end, Devlin! She loves you!"

  He snorted, "Apparently not enough," he closed his hand around the ring. "It seems I don't complete her, Nicholas, however does."

  "So you've given up? Three years and this is it? You won't fight for her?"

  "HOW CAN I FIGHT FOR HER WHEN SHE DOES NOT WANT ME?" he roared, his grief and frustration festered, slowly eating away at his tender core. "What choice do I have?" he took another gulp of the whiskey, clutched at the tumbler as a crippled man would a crutch. "She does not want me." he sounded so broken.

  "Oh my, Devlin" Miranda attempted to embrace him, but he dodged her advances. "Devlin…"

  "I would've spent my every waking moment, making her happy. I would've devoted my all to see that she had everything. I loved her children. I would've been a good husband---a good father. I loved her---I loved her." he fisted the ring with bruising strength as his midnight gaze misted over, he blinked the tears away, but alas they fell.

  "My love," Miranda approached him. There were tears in her own eyes, hurting along with him. "It will be alright." she quietly soothed, once she had her arms around him. She brought his head upon her shoulder and soothingly petted him.

  "Why doesn't she want me?" he sobbed into her shoulder, finally able to unburden a fraction of the agony he felt.

  "Hush, darling, everything will be alright."

  "She…"

  "She'll come back to you, Devlin. She is merely confused now, but in time she will return." The conviction in her tone gave Devlin slight pause and he pulled away.

  "What do you mean?"

  Miranda patiently patted his larger hand. "Let me take care of everything, I just need you to…"

  "What are you up to?" he shrewdly asked, his despair temporarily pushed away.

  Miranda took a step back and evaded her son's searching gaze, "I'm not up to anything."

  "Do not insult my intelligence, mother," Devlin said with a sigh, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from the last few days. "What do you mean you'll take care of everything? There isn't anything to take care of, just to clarify."

  "You're readily willing to give up defeat?"

  "I have no choice in the matter. I cannot force her to love me if there isn't anything there!" he shouted exasperatingly.

  "What she has with Nicholas Grayson is lust, darling. Simple, animalistic lust. That doesn't compare to what you and she shared and if you would just…"

  "No." he stared pointedly at her. "I'm done. I won't make a fool of myself anymore. I am man enough to accept defeat and no matter how difficult, I will get over this. But I need you to first promise me that you will not go after Nicholas."

  "Devlin," she feigned ignorance.

  "Promise me! No more plotting, no more vendettas! It ends here."

  "You were so happy."

  "And I will be again, nothing is etched in stone and that includes my happiness. I will be happy again." For the first time in three days, Devlin actually believed what he said. "Whatever you have planned I'm asking you to let it go. Promise me that you will not go against Nicholas. The bastard is a bit unstable."

  "And that's the sort of man you want your Ellie to be with? How do you know he won't harm her again? We both know the sort of damage he is capable of. He's Charles's son for God sakes!"

  He didn't know. He didn't know whether Nicholas was going to hurt Ellie again. Nicholas was a ruthless, coldhearted bastard, rumored to be worse than his father. He seemed the sort who enjoyed the chase and the conquest, rather than what came after. Was his plan to simply split them up, sleep with Ellie and dump her afterwards? Wasn't that what he'd done ten years ago? What would stop him from doing it again?

  Did leopards change their spots?

  "You see that I am right? He will only hurt Ellie in the long run, just as his father hurt Sonya. He will suck the very life from her, until Ellie is nothing but a shadow of what she was. He is incapable of love." She stepped closer to him, seeing the lines of concern furrowing his brow she gently caressed his cheek. "Ellie needs you, Devlin. Leaving her in the arms of your enemy will only kill her, you must hold tight to your love and save her from Nicholas and herself."

  "But…"

  "Nicholas is a horrible man, he does not deserve someone like Ellie, he never has and he never will." She wanted Devlin to understand that what she did, she only did
for his happiness. There wasn't anything that her son wanted, that Miranda wouldn't to do everything to get it for him.

  "I need to talk to Ellie again."

  Miranda smiled. "Precisely, my love. You must speak to Ellie before it's too late," She pulled herself on her toes and kissed his heavily stubbled cheek, "but first, a shower and a good shave would serve you well."

  Devlin cupped his jaw and halfheartedly grinned. "What would I do without you?"

  "You'd still be wallowing in liquor and pity."

  Devlin reciprocated her earlier kiss before heading to his bathroom. "Will you be staying?"

  She grabbed her handbag from the table and headed for the door, "No love, I have errands, but please, do call me."

  "Of course."

  The sound of the door slamming was Devlin only response. He shrugged off her haste and entered his bathroom, a little bit happier than he'd been days prior.

  ~*~*~*~

  When he'd called and succinctly told her to take a week off, Samantha had been stunned beyond belief. Her astonishment stemmed from the fact that, not once, since she'd been in his employ, had Nicholas ever taken any sort of time off for himself nor did he ever willingly ask her to do the same. It rarely happened that she herself ever took a sick day, but to be asked to stay home by her robot of a boss was a wonder in itself. For a few days after, Samantha had obsessively checked outside her bedroom window to make sure the heavens weren't falling down, for surely, this called for an apocalyptic end.

  However, it wasn't until she'd returned to work this morning that he'd given her a reason for his absence and odd behavior. To say that she'd been shocked to learn that his children had been kidnapped, rescued and were now recuperating, in just a few short days, would've been a gross understatement. She'd then gone into frenzy and asked a multitude of questions, ranging from the wellbeing of the children to offering her help, but as expected of the man who accepted little help from anyone, he'd kindly refused her aid.

  "But, I am happy to be back in the office. To have you here as well has returned things back to some normalcy." he'd gone on to say, bestowing upon her one of his roguish grins, it had the expected effect on Samantha's nerves.

  "How is your…Ellie? How did she take it? I'm sure she must've been frazzled."

  "She was, but she took it far better than I'd expected. Her strength kept me grounded, actually," he leaned back against the executive chair and slowly smiled, "She's always been the stronger one."

  "What happened to the kidnappers? Did they end up in jail?" her simple question sobered the contented look from his face and far too quickly Nicholas Grayson, ruthless tycoon, returned.

  He straightened in his chair, grabbed a few sheets of paper from his desk and tapped it on the table before handing the stack to her. "Fax these to Jackson Row's office and set up a board meeting with the accounting team for tomorrow afternoon." It seemed it was back to business, the man from before was nowhere to be found, Samantha wondered at the abrupt change in mood. What could've possibly brought about the cool, indifferent demeanor? Had it been something she'd said?

  "I'll get right on It."She turned on her heel and exited the office, happy to escape the cloying tension that had fallen so unexpectedly.

  ~*~*~*~

  Nicholas relaxed his jaw and rubbed the bridge of his nose, the moment she vacated his office. Closing his eyes, he was haunted by the image of Tony's agonized gaze glancing back at him. He wasn't afraid so much as he was aggravated.

  He was used to lack of sleep. He was used to his demons snapping away at his sanity, he was even used to doing things far worse than killing a man who rightfully deserved to die. What Nicholas wasn't used to was the bile induced dread he felt over telling Ellie exactly what he'd done. And he would tell her. There was no disputing that glaring fact, but how exactly, he wondered would he go about accomplishing such a feat?

  That right there was the dilemma at hand.

  Samantha's harmless question only cemented the fact that he was not a good man. He never was and he never would be. He did what was necessary and rarely played by the rules. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty if the ends justified the means. He was a calculative heartless bastard when it came to his enemies, to business and to his wealth. There was logic to his madness.

  Being the son of Charles Grayson had taught him from a very young age how to always stay one-step ahead of your opponents, how to amass the strings and puppeteer your adversaries where you wanted them. His father had been a fearsome genius and as his son, Nicholas had effortlessly stepped into his shoes.

  Nicholas knew he was the monster of his own story. But that monster was only partially who he was. There was another part of him, the part that was capable of loving his children and Ellie, kept Nicholas sane. There was nothing Nicholas wouldn’t do for his family. Their happiness, their love was all he would ever need, would ever ask for.

  He didn't intentionally interfere in Ellie's personal life to make her miserable and did she truly belong with Westport, Nicholas would've gracefully stepped aside and let the better man take his stead. As much as he yearned for her, Nicholas would rather see her truly happy with Westport, than miserable with him.

  But, Ellie did not belong with Westport. Ellie belonged to no other man but Nicholas and Nicholas belonged to no other than Ellie. It was simply how their love worked. It was selfish, powerful, rampant and beautiful. It left emotional scars, but took them to heights unseen, forced them to feel things that rocked them to the very core.

  Ellie's integrity, her goodness, her innocence and benevolence were a perfect foil to Nicholas's malevolence, his immorality and inequity. They fit together and balanced each other. Where one was weak, the other was strong, where one suffered the other comforted. Ellie would wither in a union with Westport, just as Nicholas would forever cause destruction if he were with someone other than Ellie.

  For a decade they’d attempted to live without each other continued to live their lives as though the other never existed. Sadly their separation only managed to bring grief to others, rather than the happiness they wanted. It was about time they settled their differences and ended their ten year strife.

  It all came down to the fact that Nicholas needed his children and Ellie far more than they would ever need him. Nicholas wanted, needed his family. He needed their love, he was ravenous for it and he was ready to beg for it, prostrate himself to receive it.

  Chapter 25

  The end of the workday arrived far quicker than Samantha anticipated and soon she was waving goodbye to co-workers as she wearily made her way out of the elevator and proceeded to the back entrance of the forty six-story office building. Before she could traverse the travertine floor leading to the revolving door to her far left, she halted mid-stride at the sight of the ginger haired man casually standing by the front desk, seemingly having an in-depth conversation with the receptionist. Her heart somersaulted and lodged itself in her throat as he turned his head her way; as if he had sensed her presence. She fought and lost the battle against the rising warmth and instantly her cheeks bloomed red.

  She hadn't spoken to him since that night a week ago-or rather the next morning, since he'd inevitably spent the night in her bed and the things they've done-Samantha shook her head to dislodge the vivid images. A few drinks, a bite to eat, and they'd ended up doing things her mother would more than likely disapprove of.

  They'd spoken very little, shared only the essentials and had touched each other as though they'd been lovers forever. The next morning, mortified of what she'd done and partially turned on to the fact that she hadn't regretted a single thing. Samantha had rudely requested that he leave her house. Proving himself the gentleman he'd been throughout their time together, he'd done nothing more than don his clothes, kissed her cheek and gently thanked her for a 'wonderful evening' before slipping out of her life just as oddly as he'd slipped into it.

  Since then, she'd attempted to put the entire ordeal out her mind and concentrate on
everything else, but his laughing cornflower blue eyes and the way he'd looked at her under the veil of darkness-as though she were the sexiest woman on the face of the planet, continued to bother her. He'd looked at her the way she'd always dreamed Nicholas would look at her, but in the throes of their passionate embrace, during that one pivotal moment, Dom had been the only man in Samantha's head. It frightened her---he frightened her.

  No other man had ever evoked such deep emotions in her other than Nicholas and for Dom to do it so quickly, so unexpectedly, so efficiently, was just too much for her to take. It was still too much to take.

  "Sam."

  Pretending as though she hadn't seen him, she hurried out of the building and took a left once outside, to her parked car.

  "Sam!" she ignored his call and rummaged through her purse for her keys, dodging a rush of people on the way. Unfortunately, her car was further away then she'd first realized and in no time at all he caught up to her, despite her hurried steps.

  "Hey," he caught her arm and gently turned her around, "Did you not hear me or were you purposely ignoring me?" he sounded slightly winded, as though he'd ran to catch up with her.

  Samantha pulled her arm away and avoided his bright, searching eyes, "Hi,"

  "So I was being ignored." He didn't seem annoyed, just partially amused, his lips rose in a crooked smile. "At least you didn't mace me."

  "Are you in the habit of getting maced?" she couldn't help but ask.

  He glanced away and appeared as though he was truly contemplating the question, before meeting her gaze once more, "No," he shook his head and boyishly grinned. "I can't think of any recent scenarios that involved me getting maced. Matter of fact, I can't really say that I've ever had the misfortune of being maced. You probably would've been my first."

  She smiled in spite of herself, "I'm sure it would've been an unforgettable experience."