Page 45 of Vintage

"She was just a girl," Abella continued. "An innocent girl, living in her Victorian manor. The house was as beautiful as she was, with gardens that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Willow grew all kinds of plants, fruits, herbs, flowers—everything you could imagine. And people came to her for healing, for remedies. But in the end, they turned on her."

I felt a flicker of something unsettling, something that struck too close to home. Amir had been taken, had been lured into something he couldn’t escape. Was this connected?

Abella’s voice grew quieter, more cryptic. "To protect herself from the town’s people, from the anger that had turned on her, Willow created something. A duplicate of her mansion. In the mornings, when people walked through the streets, they saw one manor, a beautiful, sprawling house—empty, yet welcoming. But in the evening, they would see another. The second mansion, standing just as tall, just as grand, but it was a place no one dared approach. It felt wrong, cursed."

I swallowed hard. "A duplicate? How could she do that?"

Abella’s smile was faint, knowing. "Only a few knew the truth. Willow wasn’t just a healer, not just a girl who lived in a mansion. She was morethan that. She had the power to protect herself, to deceive. The townspeople couldn’t understand how—why they couldn’t find her in day and why the place at night was always so… off."

I shifted in my seat, my heart pounding in my chest. The words rang in my ears. A duplicate of her mansion. The strange feeling of déjà vu I had when I first visited that place. The whispers about Willow and the eerie silence that greeted me each time I passed by the mansion with Amir… Could it be that the mansion we had visited was the second one? The cursed one?

"But what happened to her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What happened to Willow?"

Abella’s eyes darkened. "She simply disappeared. Some argue she left of her own accord, while others assert, she died. The rumors took on a life of their own, suggesting that she had killed her lover, and so on. There are also claims that she was trapped in the other mansion, the one that was perpetually vacant. The truth remains elusive. Yet, her legacy lingers in the town… and within you."

I stared at her, confusion and fear swirling inside me. "Me?"

Abella nodded. "You’ve met her, Amery. The tales never became real. Her presence remained nothing more than talk until you two showed up, proving that Willow was still very much here. She’s still here. And she’s waiting. I might not believe in supernatural, but I do believe in the power of blessings and curse, and I believe Willow’s curse and Willow herself, are real."

My heart stopped. The world seemed to close in on me as I realized the truth. The girl I had seen that day in the mansion, the girl who had silver eyes and brown hair—she was Willow. She was the one who had taken Amir.

I can't believe I forgot seeing that picture in the mansion, even though I can vividly recall every detail of it coming alive when she stood before me in the bar that day.

“What she wants from me? From us?” I dared to look at Abella.

She chose to remain quiet, and that silence conveyed the loudest truth of all. She was unsure of the reasons, but she felt a belief in something that went beyond the logic I was trying to understand in this bizarre and confusing circumstance. However, one thing was unmistakable…

She wasn’t finished with me yet.

Chapter Nineteen

Her lips grazed my torso, and the heat of her tongue scorched my skin. She coiled around me like a snake... a filthy, venomous and disgusting snake.

Each caress from her felt like poison, digging its claws into my flesh, tearing me apart, and seeping deep into my bones.

What she craved was what rightfully belonged to my wife, yet she rendered me unable to offer anything, marking it with her name.

I locked eyes with her grey ones, panting as I struggled against the restraints binding my hands and feet. Battling the fog that enveloped my mind like a second skin.

"Let me fucking go!!" I bellowed, straining against my cuffs, but all I could do was lie there on the bed, shut my eyes, and envision Amery's face. It dulled the pain just a bit, easing the nausea that threatened to rise until the drugs took effect.

Her lips found mine, sucking and teasing, nipping at them while she pressed her bare breasts against my chest.

"Damn, you're not reacting like you usually do," she muttered to herself as I turned my face away.

In a fit of anger, she slapped my cheek and let out a soft laugh.

How did I ever think this woman was kind, a friend of mine?!

My body felt weightless again, a sign that she had finally stopped hovering over me.

Suddenly, the scent in the air intensified, invading my senses, and despite my frantic attempts to hold my breath, it was only a matter of time before it overwhelmed me.

I had no choice but to open my eyes, and memories began to swirl in my mind. All I could see was my Amery. No matter how hard I tried to shake it off, her presence lingered. The line between dream and reality began to fade.

"Mrs. Rowan... Damn it... Get out of here. She's still in the house!" I growled, struggling against my chains to reach her. The bruises throbbed, but the terror of my wife being in danger consumed me.

Ignoring my pleas, she climbed onto the bed and, like my sweet little girl, freed me from the restraints on my wrists.

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