Page 61 of Scent of Desire
“Yes.” His eyes shone with a new hope. “Yes, I’ll do anything. I want to be better for you. I want to be the uncle you deserve, and perhaps one day you could forgive me?”
“I don’t think I will, ever.” I felt the bitter aftertaste of the lies hanging from my mouth. A part of me already did, but I wanted him to be in pain. The same as I had been. I wanted to torture his soul until my mother’s memory was avenged.
“It’s okay, I understand.” He wiped away the tears. “It doesn’t change anything. You’ve always been my hope, and you’ve opened my eyes. I’ll prove it to you, Lily. I’ll make things right.”
“I’m not sure if I should believe you.” I hit him with the coldest stare, digging my nails into my palms, ignoring the pain aching my heart.
My uncle rose from his seat, curving his body in defeat. “People can change, Lily. For love, we can.”
The media had invaded Paris.
They fed on Christian’s death like vultures. Even in his death, he was the center of attention. Him, and the announcement of his extremely new rich successor, Adonis, who finally got what he wanted. The empire of his father—or what was remaining of it. His legacy was cursed.
Club 7 was now a vestige from the past, in ruins, and Radcliff was a phantom. He stayed in the darkness, his name not even mentioned in this tragedy.
The road to Ravencliff Manor was empty and hazy, as if some evil plague had wiped everything out, and we were entering a land erased from the maps. Hugo and I were deadly silent, focusing on our own shadows under jazz music.
The ocean was tormented, stormy, its waves crashing into the rocks with brutal force. The air was humid and somehow nostalgic. It smelled like sad endings and tears. We plunged into the forest that welcomed us into its macabre gloominess and advanced toward the imposing gate under the unwelcoming glare of the gargoyles. Mrs. Walton was closing the iron doors, and Mr. Walton carried some luggage to a small green car from the forties parked next to it.
They were leaving.
“We need to—”
“I know,” Hugo cut me off, accelerating and drifting his sports car quickly to park in the middle of the mud.
I rushed out of the car and ran in the direction of the Waltons. “Wait!”
Both of them ignored my scream. I sprinted through the wild grass, using all my breath, and I arrived in front of Mrs. Walton, blocking her path to the car. She looked at me with wide eyes as if I was the craziest of the two of us.
“Is Radcliff here? Lead me to him, please,” I implored her, hoping she’d reopen the gates.
“Excuse me, who are you?” she said.
Mrs. Walton spoke.
I took a step back, and my jaw dropped open. Phantom ants scattered across my arms, and I whirled around to look at Hugo. He seemed as confused as me with his eyebrows knitting inward.
My attention focused again on Mrs. Walton. “You spoke? How?”
“I don’t understand.” She gave me the brightest of smiles with benevolent eyes like those of a loving grandmother. “Are you lost?”
Hugo arrived next to me with a perplexed stare.
“The curse,” he whispered. “It must have broken.”
I took Mrs. Walton’s hands, my heart slamming in my chest. “Please. Where is Radcliff?”
“There is no one by that name here, dear.” She chuckled. “That house has been uninhabited for years since my mistress died jumping from the cliff. You must be mistaken.”
Mrs. Walton passed in front of me, ambling to the car. Her husband was already waiting for her inside by the driver’s seat, completely disinterested in what was happening around him.
“No, no, wait—” I rushed to hold her back, but Hugo held my wrist, stopping me from moving forward.
“She won’t help you.”
“Please, Mrs. Walton.” I didn’t listen to him and begged her with all my guts. “It’s me, Lily. If you know something, you have to tell me. If you cared for his mother and for him, you need to help me.”
She stopped and turned around slowly, her eyes boring into mine.
