Page 116 of Sinful Palace

21

Logan

As I grabbedanother drink from the serving table, I watched Willow out of the corner of my eye. She was standing by a dripping ice sculpture several yards away, talking to her mother and a group of White House staffers.

Her beautiful curves were draped in a cobalt satin gown with a thigh-high split on one side which caught the eye of every single man in the room, and her blue eyes sparkled brightly under the crystal chandeliers as she smiled and chattered away. She looked like she was genuinely enjoying the party, even though it was just an act to avoid making her mother suspicious.

I knew she was still broken on the inside over all of the terrible things that had happened to her, but I hoped at least one of tonight’s smiles was real. I loved seeing her face light up, and I loved the way everything around her seemed to glow when she looked happy. It was a far cry from just a few short days ago, when she couldn’t even get out of bed. Or all the months before that, when she’d been a cowering, trembling mess, afraid of her own shadow.

So much of it was because of me.

Everything I’d ever done to her played through my mind in slow motion, and I grimaced, feeling like a million splinters were stabbing my heart in every direction. My fucking fault.

With a heavy sigh, I slipped a hand in my jacket pocket and felt the folded letter nestled within. It was an apology for every single thing I’d ever done to Willow. A confession of my true feelings for her. I planned on giving it to her at eleven, when the Christmas party fireworks started on the South Lawn.

Ever since I discovered the truth about what happened five years ago, I’d been trying to find the right way to tell her how sorry I was for everything I’d done. How much I hated myself for all of it. How deeply I’d fallen for her, even though she should hate me for what I’d done.

I wasn’t asking for forgiveness, because I didn’t want her to give it to me. Not even the smallest shred. I just wanted to tell her how much I regretted everything, and I wanted her to know she deserved a life without me.

It was harder than I thought it would be to find the right words to express so many things. How the hell did you tell someone you were sorry for tearing them away from their life and torturing them for months on end for something they weren’t even responsible for? How could you say ‘sorry I got it so fucking wrong’ in a way that properly conveyed the gravity of the issue?

How did you let them know that you didn’t want their forgiveness, because you knew you didn’t deserve an ounce of it, but you still wanted them to know how remorseful you were anyway because they deserved to hear it after enduring so much pain at your hands?

It seemed impossible for me to get all of that out in a way that didn’t make me seem selfish; as if I was only apologizing to alleviate my own guilt. Words failed me every single time I tried, and soon four whole days slipped by without me saying anything on the subject at all.

Willow had been distracted by our investigation into Q and our subsequent discovery that it was probably her mother, but that didn’t make it okay.

I needed to say sorry, even if it meant nothing to her.

I needed to make it right, even if it meant I lost her in the end.

Eventually I decided to put pen to paper, hoping I could finally get it all out of my head that way. It worked. I’d written eight pages this afternoon, telling her everything I felt and begging for her to understand why I couldn’t let her go just yet.

I knew she wanted to go back to the life she had before me, and I desperately wanted to set her free so she could have that, but it wasn’t possible right now. It just wasn’t safe. Her mother, my father, the rest of the Order… any one of them could hurt her if she tried to break the terms of our marriage contract.

That meant she was stuck with me until I came up with a safe way to extricate her from the situation.

It wasn’t that I was concerned with my own reputation and livelihood. If she wanted to go to the police and report me for what I’d done to her once she was finally free and safe, I would encourage it.

In fact, I would drive her to the fucking station myself. I deserved to rot for all the terrible things I’d put her through.

I let out another heavy sigh and glanced at my watch. It was half past ten. Thirty more minutes until I could take her aside and give her the letter while everyone else was distracted by the fireworks. Thirty more minutes until she knew the truth about how I felt.

I glanced up to catch another glimpse of her gorgeous face, but she wasn’t standing by the table anymore.

Frowning, I scanned the rest of the room, searching for her distinctive auburn hair and bright blue dress.

She was nowhere to be seen.

I spotted her friend Rowan standing by a dessert station a few seconds later. I thought about approaching him to see if he knew where Willow had gone, but when he noticed me looking in his direction, his eyes widened, and he quickly scurried away.

“All right, then,” I said to myself, rolling my eyes upward. What a weird guy.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a new text from Willow.

Hey. I ran into Simone a minute ago. She needed to use the restroom, so we’re there now. Just wanted to let you know in case you were wondering where I went.

Relief flooded through me, and I tapped out a response. Thanks for letting me know. How’s Simone?

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