Page 16 of Merciless

I already knew who she chose. “And where were you in all of this? Completely blameless? An innocent bystander?”

“I wish I was innocent. But I was just as guilty as Otto.” I tilted my head, reluctantly respecting her candour. “I come from a generation and background where you respect your husband and stick by him in all ways, even when you disagree. Please don’t take that as me trying to make up excuses. It was my authentic life, the way I was brought up, how everyone around me lived. I thought I was doing the right thing and protecting my girl.”

“And in the end, you lost your daughter.”

“Yes. Then I lost my daughter,” she said, tone heavy with sorrow.

“Where is he now? Your husband?”

“Gone. He passed ten years ago, riddled with regret. I don’t want to live the rest of my days feeling the same. Hence why I’m here.”

Darcy interrupted us, placing my coffee and Eloise’s pot of tea in the middle of the table. I welcomed the minor distraction, giving myself an extra few seconds to process all that had been said.

“Why’d you come to me? Why not go straight to William?”

Eloise tended her tea before answering. “I’ve wanted to apologise for years, but Beth barred me from ever contacting him. In the end, I truly didn’t want to add to his pain… William didn’t inform me of her death or her funeral.” A couple of silent tears tracked down her cheeks as she pushed on. “I found out my daughter had departed this earth by reading the morning newspaper. I knew then that William was so hurt by our past that he may never forgive me, let alone agree to meet up.”

This is all too much.

Did Eloise deserve to be secluded from Mum’s funeral? I wasn’t there to witness their tumultuous history, so I couldn’t say.

But one fact rang true and haunting: William had denied access to his wife’s own mother, yet backed Nikita, Mum’s best friend, who had betrayed her in the worst way.

By that single factor, I knew I couldn’t trust his reasoning or fucked-up sense of logic. Which meant I had to form my own opinion.

I blew on my hot drink before taking a gulp. “Hmm. I won’t lie, I’m a bit overwhelmed. Still, you’ve managed to give it to me straight. So, I guess you deserve the same in return. I can’t and won’t be the middleman between you and William.” She blanched, taken aback by my cold delivery. “But I’m willing to get to know you, on my terms and in my own time. If that doesn’t work for you—”

“It works,” she rushed, before giving a timid smile. “I may be old and late, but I like to think that I’ve learnt something from all this grief. My stubborn nature made me miss valuable time with my daughter. Time I’ll never get back. I want to change for the better. To make amends to you, and especially to William.”

“I can understand that,” I said, downing the rest of my coffee. My emotional battery was running low, energy waning from the onslaught of information.

She seemed to notice, her features morphing in guilt. “I’m nearly finished. There’s just one more thing I want to discuss. Something important. Please don’t take this as a bribe or blackmail, as the end result will remain the same, no matter your choices moving forward.”

Now, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. I lifted a brow in question.

Eloise huffed, twisting her fingers together. “Since you are the last remaining descendent of the Tems, you will inherit everything, Colton. My will has already been drawn up with Thomas, our family attorney.”

Why am I speechless? Why did she make it sound like such a big deal?

With a dry mouth, I managed to ask, “Everything. What does that mean?”

“It means that, upon my death, the entire family fortune will be passed on to you… An empire worth $40 million dollars.”

Chapter 10

WILLIAM

As my house came into view, anxiety immediately seeped into my bones.

After I lost Bethy, each week seemed to melt into one continuous reel of pain. I’d become an expert avoider, running from my demons, denying all that had changed.

To suppress everything, I let work consume me, staying late into the night. I even managed to smack on a fake smile sometimes. And for the days I felt especially brave, I’d rip out a few laughs with the boys in the workshop.

But that didn’t stop the darkness from creeping in when I was alone. Without Beth and Colt, the house felt bereft, a hollow shell that held the remnants of a past life; a loving, magnificent, fulfilling life.

I hadn’t heard from Colt in over a year, despite trying to reach out every single week. I sent all types of communication. Most efforts were blocked, though sometimes, on the rare occasion, a letter would be delivered or an email would go through.

It was infrequent, barely an acknowledgement, but it was something. The tiniest sliver of hope that made me hold on to our one-sided connection with everything I had, ensuring the gap never fully closed.