Page 33 of His Forever

“Doesn’t she know what Guy sounds and looks like?” Murphy asked from across the room, his arms folded over his chest.

Everyone had gathered in Leo’s office, just like yesterday. The air was thick with tension, the kind that buzzes around before something big happens.

“She does, but we have that all covered. Guy made plans for this before he passed,” I explained, glancing toward Sig. We had rehearsed these enough times that I knew every step by heart, but saying it out loud still felt surreal.

Princeton’s eyes shot to Sig, a bemused smirk forming. “Is he gonna pull dead Guy out of a suitcase or something?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Leo sighed heavily, running a hand over his jaw, while Apollo chuckled from his corner. “Yeah, that’s exactly what he’s going to do,” Apollo added dryly.

I tipped my head to the side, smiling faintly. “Um, no. Technology can do wonders these days.”

Sig nodded to Clyde, who stepped forward with a laptop. “Before Guy passed, we trained a chatbot with his voice. Now, when someone calls, we reply through the computer, and it instantly speaks with his voice.”

Clyde placed the laptop on Leo’s desk and quickly pulled up the needed files. “Everything’s on here,” he said.

“We also have precautions in place if she wants to see him,” I added. We had thought of every possible angle. Candace was smart, but so were we.

The screen flickered, and Guy’s face appeared. I had watched this video countless times, but each time I saw it, my breath caught for a moment. Guy looked the way he always had—weathered skin, sharp features, dressed in one of his expensive, tailored suits. A tie fixed perfectly at his collar.

Ultimately, Guy and I were on good terms, but love? I wasn’t sure it ever existed between us. Our marriage had been born out of convenience, more on my part than his. After the first time he hit me, I realized I would’ve been better off alone.

But now, here he was, alive on the screen, just as we needed him to be.

“Yeah, he looks pretty good for a dead guy,” Murphy muttered, leaning in for a better look.

On the screen, Guy straightened his tie, his fingers brushing along the silk fabric as he looked into the camera. “Hello?” he called, his voice deep and commanding as ever. “Can you hear me?”

The video glitched briefly as if the reception was bad. He looked off-camera and made a frustrated sound. “What the hell is wrong with the reception?”

A voice responded, too quiet to hear clearly, mentioning something about adjusting the settings. Guy shook his head,looking back at the camera. “Hello? I can’t hear or see anything. Let me call you back. I don’t think video chat is going to work from Monte Carlo today.”

The video froze mid-motion, right as Guy stood from his chair.

Murphy let out a low whistle. “Well, damn. That was pretty fucking convincing. If I didn’t know Guy was six feet under, I would’ve thought he was having reception problems.”

Apollo nodded in agreement. “What if she tries video-calling him again?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Sig shrugged. “We don’t pick up. That’s the advantage of being Guy Maranga. Most people think if he doesn’t answer, they’ve done something wrong.”

“And we call her back immediately. No video, just audio,” I added. Candace would feel pressured and rushed. She wouldn’t push too hard. Her survival instincts would tell her to play along until she could figure out her next move.

Leo, standing beside me, asked, “Isn’t there a delay with the computer when it talks?”

“There is at first,” Sig said, glancing back at the laptop. “But as the conversation goes on, we can anticipate what’s needed. We guide the conversation where we want it to go. We’ve been using this system for over two years, and no one has ever suspected they were talking to a machine.”

Princeton leaned forward, studying the screen. “So this is how you’ve been keeping everything running since Guy died?”

I nodded. “Exactly. Before Guy passed, he knew he needed to maintain his presence—his power. If people found out he was gone, there would be vultures like Candace tearing everything apart. We’ve been perfecting this system for years. It was the only reason we’ve managed to hold things together.”

The room was quiet for a moment, everyone absorbing the weight of what we were doing. This wasn’t just a trick; it wasa way of survival. Keeping Guy’s voice alive meant keeping control, and in our world, control was everything.

“I’ve got to admit,” Apollo said after a pause, “it’s genius. Morbid, but genius.”

“It seems Guy always was one step ahead,” Leo muttered. I could feel the tension radiating off him, the weight of what we were about to do pressing down hard. He wanted this over—wanted Candace gone so we could move on. So he could have me.

I knew the fact that Guy had me for so many years annoyed him. He wanted to take back what he had.

The room felt thick with anticipation like we were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if we would fall or fly.

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