Page 306 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Her eyes flick between Hugo and me, seemingly confused. “Hello.”
I can’t breathe, much less formulate a response to her greeting. I’m standing across from a woman who has more influence on the man I love than I do. This can’t get any worse.
The longer we remain quiet, the more Ophelia’s brows join. Thankfully, the awkwardness inflicting our gathering weakens when a little boy with dark hair charges across the room. “Mom, you should see the size of the fish we caught! The water was so freezing, the fish was frozen with its mouth open.” He stops talking to pull the face of a fish out of water. “Pa tried to make me kiss it, but fish are disgusting. It smelled so bad, I wasn’t going to kiss it.” He talks so fast, his words come out in a mumbled slur.
My chest weighs down with heaviness when it dawns on me that he's calling Ophelia his mother.
“You shouldn’t kiss fish.” Ophelia scrunches up her pointed nose while running her fingers through the boy’s messy hair. When she glances behind my shoulder, her eyes narrow into slits. When I follow her gaze, I spot a gentleman in his mid-fifties pacing toward us. “Pa shouldn’t be encouraging you to kiss fish.”
The gentleman laughs a hearty chuckle before he places a kiss on the pharmacy tech’s head. “I was just ensuring he got his daily dose of fish oil.”
Ophelia giggles, making the stranglehold on my heart intensify. “We have vitamins for that.”
I remain quiet with my eyes flicking between the little boy, who I'd guess is around the age of six, and Ophelia. The swirling of my stomach kicks up a gear when I recall Isaac sharing information about the night he fought Ophelia’s brother, CJ. About her being overdue for her period and having a stomach bug the two weeks before the fight.
I suck in shallow breaths, weakening the dizziness making my footing unsteady before shooting my eyes back to the little boy. When he glances up at me with a smirk etched on his plump lips, I can no longer hold in the contents of my swishy stomach.
After excusing myself, I dart out of the single glass pharmacy door.
“Oh, poor dear, she must still be suffering from morning sickness. When I was pregnant…” is the last thing I hear before I lose my frosted flakes breakfast in the waste receptacle on the sidewalk outside of the pharmacy.
I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe away the remnants of vomit off my chin when Hugo gathers me in his arms. His woodsy smell helps to settle the flips and turns my stomach is doing, but nothing eases my despair.
Not a word seeps from his lips when he sits me into the passenger seat of our rental car, buckles my seatbelt into place, then jogs around to hop into the driver’s seat. I try to formulate words, to articulate something about what just occurred, but my words stay trapped in my throat, refusing to be relinquished.
I’m not surprised when Hugo drives us straight to the private airstrip we flew into yesterday afternoon. We agreed last night that as soon as we unearthed what really happened to Ophelia, we’d immediately inform Isaac of our discovery in person. My agreement was the only way I stopped Hugo from calling Isaac last night.
When we pull into the airport hangar thirty minutes later, Isaac’s private jet is on the tarmac, warm and ready to go. The crew was advised that the plane must be ready for departure with minimal notice required because Isaac didn’t want any delays separating us longer than necessary. My heart was initially warmed by that statement, but now it’s full of panic because every mile I get closer to Isaac means I’m closer to losing him forever.
For the past three hours, Hugo has aimlessly flicked through outdated magazines. He’s not reading any articles. He’s too busy eyeballing me to pay attention to anything else.
I put his gawking to good use. “How old do you think Ophelia’s son is?”
He sets down the magazine to scrub the five o’clock shadow on his chin. “Five or six,” he replies, his voice uneasy.
“So the dates could add up. He could be Isaac’s son.”
Since my comments are more statements than questions, Hugo doesn’t respond. He just wearily smiles before moving into the spare seat next to me. Fresh tears prick in my eyes when he drapes his arm around my shoulders, offering me silent comfort, but even devastated, I don’t shed a tear. I’m out of my quota of tears for the day.
“You can’t fight fate, Izzy.” The deepness of his voice vibrates right through me. “But that doesn’t mean you should give up. Isaac gave you an engagement ring as a promise. He’s never spoken those words to another woman before, so that alone shows your importance to him. You need to have faith that things will work out the way they're meant to.”
I inhale a lung-filling gulp of air before nodding. After everything Isaac and I have endured the past few months, I believe our relationship is strong enough to pass the most strenuous tests. But this time is different. I’m not going against a woman who wants to compete for Isaac’s heart. I'm battling a woman who already owns a portion of it. It doesn’t take a genius to know that this will be one of my hardest fought battles, but that doesn’t mean I won’t give it my best shot.
CHAPTER29
ISAAC
“The transfer of assets has been approved as you requested.”
I press my cell phone closer to my ear, ensuring I can hear Parker over the roaring chant of the crowd. “Is it the original asset I secured?”
“Yes. I informed them that you wouldn’t be willing to accept anything less than what you purchased.”
“Good. I’ll have the transport information and logistics forwarded to you by tomorrow afternoon. This sale needs to remain confidential. I can’t run the risk of anyone finding out about my business dealings with Vladimir.”Especially Isabelle.
“I understand, and the transport team has been debriefed on the situation.”
“Good, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
