Chapter 70

Alaric

The fire had long since burned down to embers by the time I woke up, the faint glow barely illuminating the dark room. Fat snowflakes drifted lazily through the air outside the window, the glass frosted with white starbursts. Had I really fallen asleep on my office sofa?

As I moved to sit up, I felt something in my hand, and I glanced down to find the photograph still clutched between my fingers.

The photo.

It was an old picture of the three of us. Me, Sarah, and Ella in the garden just days after her first birthday. It wasn’t long before Sarah’s disappearance, and we looked happy. Sarah’s hand was resting on my chest, her head tilted against my shoulder, and I was smiling.

That was back before I completely stopped smiling for all those years.

I stared down at the photo in my hand for too long, waiting for something to stir inside of me.

But nothing did.

The bittersweet ache of nostalgia that I thought I would feel never came. It hadn’t come yet, actually, no matter how many times I looked at our old photos. It never even came when I looked at Sarah herself, alive and in the flesh.

Going through some of our old belongings that hadn’t gotten wrecked in the fire, I had picked this photograph up tonight thinking that maybe—just maybe—if I looked at it for long enough, the old feelings would come crawling back.

I thought I had missed Sarah. I thought I had been mourning her all this time.

And I did miss her. I did mourn her. Hell, I never thought I would stop missing her and mourning her, no matter how much time passed. But here she was. Sitting in the next room. Alive. And all I could think about was how long it would be until she left.

It felt like I should be more… something. Relieved, happy, confused, even angry. But I wasn’t.

I just felt nothing.

The realization twisted something cold and sharp in my chest, and I set the picture aside, face-down so I wouldn’t have to look at it.

I’d spent years picturing this exact moment—Sarah returning home, her arms wrapping around Ella, the life we were supposed to have snapping back into place. I had been so sure that if she ever walked through that door again, I’d forget everything else. That it would be some kind of miracle and that we’d have our happily ever after.

In the beginning of my arrangement with Elara, I even thought that I would end things the absolute second Sarah came back, if she ever came back.

That was the thought that stuck with me the longest. Over the months, I had fallen for Elara, hard and fast, and had gone so far as to make her my mate. I loved her and the family we’d built in every sense of the word, and it felt like paradise. And yet I always thought, deep down, that I could never love her quite as much as I had loved my ‘dead’ wife.

But over time it wasn’t Sarah’s face I saw when I closed my eyes anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. I didn’t want to let go of Elara, and now that Sarah had returned…

I’d realized something.

I still loved Sarah, of course, in her own way. She was the mother of my child, the wife I’d thought had died, the woman I once adored to the moon and back. But I realized that I loved Elara so much more.

Not that it was a competition—not by a long stretch. But it was true.

I’d never loved Sarah as much as I loved Elara.

And now that she was back and… different in ways I couldn’t quite put my finger on, I realized it all the more.

My chest tightened as I stood from the couch. I didn’t need to think about this anymore. I already knew what I had to do.

I had to tell Elara.

I left the study without a glance back and headed to our bedroom, where I knew she would be sleeping. I couldn’t shake the image of her face, the slight creases around her mouth when she smiled.

Lately, her smile hadn’t been genuine. She was putting on an act, trying to be kind and selfless and happy despite the fact that our lives had been upended. I couldn’t bear to see her like that.

She had to know that I wasn’t going anywhere. She had to know that this was only temporary, that Sarah wouldn’t be living here forever and that I still wanted her to be my wife.

She deserved that much, at the very least.

But when I entered the bedroom, she wasn’t there. The bed was neatly made, but there was no sign of her. The bathroom light was off, so I knew she wasn’t showering. I stepped further inside, letting my gaze sweep over the dresser, the closet. And then I noticed it—the absence of her things.

The coat she wore most days was gone. Her boots weren’t by the door. Her jewelry box was missing, and her phone, car keys, and wallet weren’t on the nightstand.

I turned sharply, moving back into the hall and down the stairs. “Elara?” I called out, but there was no answer. I passed by the living room, but she wasn’t there either.

Finally, I circled back to the kitchen, my heart pounding just a little harder now. And when she wasn’t there, I cursed under my breath and circled back, turning the corner to the back door.

I hadn’t even noticed the safe until I passed it. Sensing that something was off, I paused, slowly turning. The painting on the hallway wall that concealed it was sitting on the floor, revealing that the safe was open.

I stilled, staring at the empty safe. And at that moment, a rush of disbelief hit me like ice running down my spine.

“Alaric.”

The sound of Sarah’s quivering voice made me turn too quickly, nearly colliding with her. Her hair was mussed, cheeks streaked with tears, and her breathing was hoarse like she had been crying for some time.

I took a step back, straightening. “What happened?”

Sarah’s hands trembled as she gestured to the safe. “I-It was Elara,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “She came downstairs with a gun. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. She forced me to open the safe.”

I stared at her, the words not quite registering.

“Alaric, she took the money. The jewelry. I—” Sarah’s voice broke off as she swiped at her cheek, shaking her head. “I don’t know where she went. She left… she left us. She left the girls.”

My heart slowed.

No.

“Elara wouldn’t do that,” I said slowly, cautiously.

Sarah’s eyes darted to mine and hardened ever so slightly. “Well, she did.” Her voice softened, and she shook her head, looking away. “She pointed the gun at me, Alaric. I thought she was going to—”

My stomach twisted.

I stepped past her, crossing over to the safe. Sure enough, the contents were gone—every piece of cash, the heirloom rings, and some other valuables. It wasn’t everything we had, of course—it was just a little stash I kept for emergencies—but it didn’t matter.

No, I told myself again.

Not Elara. Not the woman who wouldn’t even take an enormous sum of money to give me custody of the girls back when we first met.

“I’m so sorry,” Sarah continued, her voice choked by a small sob. “I know you trusted her. But she’s… she’s not who you think she is.”

I met her gaze, and for the first time since she returned, I realized just how carefully crafted her expression was—too careful. Her lip quivered just slightly, but the faint gleam in her eyes felt like satisfaction more than heartbreak.

A sudden rush of clarity hit me.

Sarah was lying.

None of this made sense. Not Sarah’s claims that she’d been held captive by unnamed ‘business rivals’ for years for no discernible reasons, not her showing up with suitcases full of brand new clothes, not any of it. And most of all not this.

Elara wouldn’t leave. Not without the girls. Not like this.

Somewhere through my haze, Sarah was speaking, but I couldn’t make out a word of it. All I could hear was my own pulse pounding in my ears, mingling with one dizzying, mind-consuming, inescapable thought.

I had to find Elara.

And so, without a word, I shoved past Sarah and strode out into the snowy night.