Chapter 117
Marcus’s POV
Dante leaned back into the couch, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he watched the last pieces of the contract turn to ash in the fireplace. “A bottle of whisky is definitely needed for this celebration We just pulled off a heist, man.”
Marcus laughed, the sound genuine and unburdened for the first time in over a week. “You might be right about that.”
He stood up and walked over to the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets where he kept his expensive liquor collection. He pulled out a bottle of Macallan 25, the good stuff he saved for special occasions, and grabbed two crystal glasses.
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Walking back to the living room, he poured generous amounts for both of them. The amber liquid caught the light as it filled the glasses, and Marcus handed one to Dante before settling back onto the couch.
“To criminal activity,” Dante said, raising his glass.
“To recovering stolen property,” Marcus corrected with a smirk.
“Potato, po-tah-to.”
They clinked glasses and both took long drinks. The whisky burned going down in the best possible way. smooth and rich and warming Marcus from the inside out.
They sat there for a while, just drinking and decompressing from the adrenaline rush. Dante recounted the moment they’d hidden in the bathroom, mimicking Penelope’s irritated voice on the phone, and Marcus found himself laughing harder than he had in weeks.
“I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes when she walked past that bathroom door,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “I was already planning my defense strategy for the breaking and entering charges.”
“Please, you wouldn’t have needed a defense strategy. You would’ve just claimed you were visiting family and got confused about which penthouse was yours,” Dante said with a grin.
“Right, because that would’ve explained why we were hiding in her bathroom.”
“Details.”
They finished their drinks and Dante poured them each another round. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, away from contracts and stepmothers and near-death experiences in guest bathrooms.
After about an hour, Dante checked his watch and stood up. “Alright, I should probably head out. Mimi’s been texting me asking where I am.”
Marcus stood too and walked Dante to the door. When they got there, Marcus pulled his best friend into a tight hug.
“Thank you,” Marcus said, his voice serious now. “Thank you so much, man. I don’t know what I would’ve
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Chapter 117
done without you. You literally saved my entire life tonight.”
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Dante hugged him back just as hard. “That’s what brothers do. We’ve got each other’s backs, always have”
“Still. Thank you. For everything. For the crazy plan, for actually pulling it off, for risking getting arrested alongside me.”
“Anytime. Well, not anytime. Let’s not make breaking and entering a regular thing.”
Marcus laughed and released him. “Deal.”
Dante stepped out into the hallway and gave Marcus one last wave before heading to the elevator. Marcus closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, letting the reality of what they’d just accomplished wash over him.
The contract was gone. Burned to ash. Penelope had nothing on him anymore.
He should feel relieved. Ecstatic, even. And he did, partially. But there was still a weight sitting heavy in his chest, something the whisky and the successful heist hadn’t quite managed to erase.
Elara.
Marcus pushed off from the door and climbed the stairs slowly, his hand trailing along the banister. When he reached the second floor, he walked down the hallway toward his bedroom. His hand was already on the door handle, already turning it, when he stopped abruptly.
He stood there for a moment, frozen in indecision. Then he turned and walked in the opposite direction, down the hall to Elara’s old room. The room she’d been staying in before they started sharing a bed. The room she’d probably moved back to at some point this week while he’d been too busy avoiding her to notice.
Marcus turned the handle. It wasn’t locked. The door opened with a soft creak.
He stepped inside and his heart broke at what he saw.
Elara was sitting on the edge of the bed, her body hunched forward with her head resting on her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, holding herself in a position that looked small and broken and so unlike the strong woman he’d come to know.
“Hi,” Marcus said softly.
Elara’s head snapped up. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears she’d clearly been crying for a while. She looked surprised to see him standing there, like she’d convinced herself he wouldn’t come looking for her.
“Hi,” she said, her voice hoarse and quiet.
Marcus walked across the room and sat down on the bed beside her, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching. He could feel the tension radiating off her body, could see the way her hands were trembling slightly where they gripped her knees.
“We were able to get the contract back,” he said.
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Chapter 117
Elara nodded slowly. “Oh. Okay. I’m happy it worked out.”
Her voice was flat, emotionless. She put her face back down, hiding from him again.
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Marcus watched her for a moment, taking in the defeated slope of her shoulders, the way she seemed to be trying to make herself disappear. He’d done this to her. His anger, his silence, his cold treatment over the past week had broken something in her.
“Elara-”
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I know I fucked up. I know I could’ve cost you everything. I know you hate me now and you have every right to and I’m just… I’m so sorry.”
The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other, and then she was crying again. Not the quiet tears from before but actual sobs that shook her whole body.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she continued through the tears. “I was just scared back then and I wanted to protect myself and I forgot about those stupid papers and now I’ve ruined everything between us and you can barely look at me and I don’t blame you but it hurts so much-”
“Elara, stop,” Marcus said gently.
But she couldn’t seem to stop, the words and tears just kept coming like a dam had finally broken after being held back for too long.
“I know you regret marrying me. I know you wish you’d never met me. I know I’m just this poor girl who doesn’t belong in your world and I’ve brought nothing but problems and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”
Marcus couldn’t take it anymore. He reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. She tensed for a second, like she wasn’t sure if he was really holding her or if this was some kind of dream.
Then she collapsed against him, her face buried in his chest, her hands fisting in his shirt as she cried.
Marcus held her tight and pressed a soft peck to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.
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