Page 67 of Sebastian.

Fuck…it’s such a crazy idea that it just might work! Asking Margaret for help will feel like paying in blood, but at this point, the people Margaret hurt are long gone. Julia and our children are still here, and Margaret will do anything to protect them. Anything. And I’m pretty sure that includes helping me.

The thought of reaching out to that woman, of all people, fills me with a profound sense of dread. She's one of the few individuals in this world I can honestly say I despise. Everything she does, every word that leaves her mouth, chills me. I don’t trust her, but damn…she is effective.

A cold realization dawns upon me. If Karl is a snake, then I need an even bigger snake by my side. Someone who can navigate the darkest alleys of power, who knows how to strike when it matters most. Margaret, in all her malevolence, is that cobra lurking in the shadows, ready and willing to devour those standing in her way. So all I have to do is put Karl Townsend in her way.

I'm horrified by the idea of relying on her, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The weight of Karl's betrayal, the threat to my family's legacy—it's all too much for me to bear alone. In a world where loyalty is a luxury, I need an ally who's willing to play the game as ruthlessly as Karl.

Whether Margaret likes it or not, her daughter is my wife, and her grandchildren are my children. Helping me is helping them. Which means she’ll do it. If I have to dance with the devil herself to ensure my family's future, then so be it.

Dialing her number, I wait for her to answer with my heart in my throat. When she does, her greeting is cool and smooth. “Sebastian. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I can’t say over the phone. Can you meet me at the estate library at six?”

There’s a surprised pause, but she recovers quickly. “You sound serious, so yes, I’ll be there. Have tea ready.”

* * *

A few hours later, and I find myself sitting across from my mother-in-law in the library, the very same room she blackmailed my father years ago. The heavy, ornate curtains are drawn, filtering the afternoon sunlight to a dim, eerie glow. This feels like a conversation that should be hidden from the world.

The room exudes an air of old-world opulence, with mahogany bookshelves lined with leather-bound volumes, antique furniture, and oil paintings of stern-looking ancestors hanging on the walls. In the winter, with the fireplace lit and a glass of port in my hand, it’s one of my favorite places to unwind. Now, though, it’s a battleground.

A silver tea platter sits on a polished mahogany table between us. Margaret, always one for power plays, arrived before me, deliberately attempting to set the tone that she's the one in control. But I'm all too familiar with her manipulations, and it won't work on me this time. I stop for a moment, taking in Margaret's presence. Time has only made her appear more dangerous, her sharp features and piercing eyes telling tales of years spent mastering the art of power. Her face is more lined than it was back then, when she threatened my father, but each one of those lines only marks more time that she’s been able to get smarter, and more effective at what she does.

I dismiss the butler and serve my mother-in-law tea myself. After handing her the cup, she gestures for me to take a seat in an armchair, while she herself settles gracefully on the couch. Silently telling me where to sit in my own home…this woman will never cease to grate on my every nerve.

The subdued lighting casts intriguing shadows across her face, making her appear even more formidable. I comply and sit, trying not to reveal the discomfort I feel being in such close quarters with her.

“I’m quite surprised of all the people you would want to talk to, you chose me,” Margaret points out, a sly smile playing on her lips.

I reciprocate with a faint, ironic smile of my own. “I surprised myself by calling you, too. It wasn’t a decision that I took lightly, I promise you that.”

The silence hangs for a moment, heavy with unspoken memories and dislike. I take a sip of the tea, its warmth providing some comfort. Entangling myself with Margaret isn’t exactly an enjoyable experience, but I know her and what drives her. Karl has proven, quite rapidly, to be a mystery.

Better the enemy you know, I guess.

I'm running out of options and time. It's a strange twist of fate that brings me to this point, seeking assistance from Margaret, but I’m thankful that she answered my summons.

I break the silence, finally sharing the weight of my troubles with her. “I had a meeting with Karl today. As you probably know, Gabi pressed charges against him and gave him the option to sign a settlement giving him five years behind bars, but Karl intends going to court and drag me along instead. He’s determined not to go down alone.”

Margaret listens intently, her gaze fixed on me. It's unsettling how her demeanor can shift from jovial to calculating in an instant.

“Yes, Julia mentioned that charges were being filed. Did you try talking to him?” she inquires, her tone betraying a hint of curiosity. “The two of you have historically been close, from what I recall.”

“I did, yes,” I say, hesitating briefly before continuing. “In order for him to change his tune regarding that settlement, he wants to become CEO once he gets out of jail. He also mentioned he wanted to do a blood test to find out if we are related. It seems like he’s suspicious that we share the same father. Do you have anything to do with that, Margaret?”

She leans back, sitting her teacup down on the side table with a clatter and steepling her fingers thoughtfully. “I do not,” she responds, her eyes locked onto mine. “There is nothing for me to gain in making that knowledge public. What I do know, though, is that his mother knows who the father is, so it's very likely that it was her who told him. It was asinine for Johannes to believe that a mother would keep that secret from her son forever.” She tilts her head to the side thoughtfully. “But, I guess he proved that he was a fool anyway, getting himself into that position in the first place. So it’s no wonder he was silly enough to believe her.”

I feel a knot tighten in my chest. Karl's suspicion about our shared lineage is a dangerous variable in an already complicated situation. As I look at Margaret, it's clear that whatever her intentions may be, she is holding cards…but she isn’t the one that clued Karl in. She’s telling the truth.

“Can we not use this opportunity to speak badly about my father? It serves no purpose.” My agitation bubbles over as I stand to pace the room, my teacup clinking softly against the mahogany table as I set it down. My hands, once composed, now clasp behind my back as I struggle to convey the urgency of the situation.

“Fine by me,” she mutters before bringing the cup up to her lips to give another sip.

“The thing is,” I begin, lowering my voice as I take a seat beside Margaret on the plush couch. Leaning closer, I feel a sense of desperation creeping in. What I’m about to ask her…there’s no coming back from it. “I assume you know how to make people disappear without a trace.”

Margaret arches one impeccably groomed eyebrow, her gaze locked onto me, unwavering. “And why would you think that?”

Grief rolls over me, unexpected in its intensity, as I remember the tragedy I've long suspected Margaret orchestrated. “Well, no one ever managed to uncover who tampered with my car,” I admit, trying to hold the decades-old devastation of loss inside. “So I presume you're familiar with the right people for such a task, considering that you’ve pulled it off before.”

---