Page 44 of The Reckoning
“Save the threats.” I interrupt, checking my watch. “We need to leave now if we’re going to make it by four.”
“I need a minute with Aries,” Lilian says, her gaze holding mine. “Alone.”
I want to refuse, to insist we don’t have time, but something in her expression stops me. I give a curt nod and step out of the room, closing the door behind me but lingering just outside. Not because I’m jealous—I’m not, I can’t be, jealousy implies an emotional investment I refuse to acknowledge—but because I don’t trust him. Not with her, not with anything.
Their voices are muffled through the door, but I catch snatches of their conversation—her reassurances, his concerns, the soft intimacy in their tones that makes something ugly twist in my chest. Then silence, followed by the sound of movement.
When she emerges, her cheeks are flushed, lips slightly swollen. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened in those private moments. The knowledge burns like acid in my veins.
“Ready?” I ask, voice deliberately flat, emotionless. He’s free now; does that mean she’s chosen him…the one she always wanted?
She nods, a slight furrow between her brows as she studies my expression. “Let’s go.”
The drive to the Hayes mansion is silent, weighed down by unspoken tensions. I take the familiar route on autopilot, having driven it countless times during my months as Aries. The irony doesn’t escape me—after all my planning, all my careful manipulation, I’m willingly returning to the heart of the empire I’ve sworn to destroy. All for her.
The mansion appears through the trees as we round the final curve of the private drive—a monstrosity of glass and stone, designed to impress, to intimidate, to announce to the world that the Hayes family is untouchable. I’ve always hated it. Even though we grew up here, it always felt more like a hotel than a home.
“Remember the plan,” Lilian says as I pull up to the front entrance. “We’re just here to appease my mother and find out what they know.”
“I know how to play Aries,” I remind her, killing the engine. “I’ve been doing it for months.”
“That’s what worries me,” she murmurs, reaching for the door handle.
Before she can exit, I catch her wrist, my grip firmer than intended. “If anything feels wrong—anything at all—you give the signal. No heroics, no improvisations.”
Something softens in her expression. “I will. I promise.”
I release her, suddenly uncomfortable with the tenderness in her gaze. She shouldn’t look at me that way—like I’m worthy of concern, of care. Like I’m anything more than the monster who kidnapped her stepbrother and manipulated her into my revenge plot. It hurts too much to think maybe…she’s done with me.
The front door opens before we reach it, revealing Patricia in all her frosty perfection. Her blond hair is swept into an immaculate chignon, her cream silk blouse and tailored trousers a study in understated wealth. She looks more like Lilian’s sister than her mother—the benefits of expensive skincare and strategic Botox.
“Lilian,” she says, relief momentarily softening her features before the mask slips back into place. “Finally. We’ve been worried sick.”
Her gaze shifts to me, a slight narrowing of her eyes the only indication that something doesn’t sit right. “Aries. I didn’t realize you would be joining us.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, slipping into the role as easily as breathing. Aries is deferential but not subservient, affectionate but restrained. The perfect son Patricia always wanted. “Lilian mentioned Dr. Winters was coming. Thought I should be here for her.”
Patricia’s lips thin, displeasure evident despite her attempt to hide it. “That won’t be necessary. This is a private family matter.”
“I am family,” I counter smoothly. “Or have our roles as stepsiblings suddenly changed?”
Patricia studies me for a moment, something calculating in her gaze. “Of course not. But the doctor will need to examine Lilian privately. Medical confidentiality and all that.”
“I’ve seen Lilian at her worst,” I say, my tone deliberately casual. “I doubt there’s anything the good doctor could discover that would shock me.”
Patricia’s nostrils flare slightly—the only sign that my persistence has irritated her. Beside me, Lilian stiffens, whether from embarrassment or anger I can’t tell.
“Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside,” she suggests, her voice tight. “It’s chilly out here.”
Patricia steps back, allowing us to enter the marble-tiled foyer. The house smells of lemon polish and old money. Every surface gleams with the attentions of a staff that Patricia has trained very well to stay out of sight.
“Dr. Winters is waiting in the study,” Patricia says, leading the way through the grand entrance hall. “He’s been most concerned about your missed appointments, Lilian. Your condition requires consistent monitoring.”
“My condition is fine,” Lilian replies, a new edge to her voice that makes me glance at her with surprise. “I’ve been taking my medication as prescribed.”
“Have you?” Patricia asks, skepticism evident. “Then perhaps you can explain why your professors have reported concerns about your behavior? Missed classes, incomplete assignments, erratic attendance?”
“I’ve been busy with research,” Lilian says, the lie smooth and practiced. “You know how I get when I’m focused on a project.”
