Chapter 14
1647 Words
Daniel stared at Declan for a moment. His smile slipped briefly before settling back into place.
“Come on, son. We’re all family after all,” Daniel laughed.
The sound was forced. Everyone in the room could hear it.
Declan raised a brow.
Suspicious or not, Daniel had been the only person in the family who tried convincing his parents to let him marry Victoria all those years ago.
“I know how much you love her,” Daniel continued. “I came as soon as I heard about the fire.”
It sounded like concern.
Yet Declan couldn't help noticing what was missing.
Daniel hadn't asked about Elysia.
Not once.
He had come straight to the hospital. He hadn't called Declan beforehand. And now he was here, hovering over Victoria's bed like her wellbeing mattered more than anyone else's.
On the surface, it all made sense.
But after everything that had happened in the last few hours, suspicion came far too easily.
“Declan, Uncle Daniel is like a father to me,” Victoria said softly.
Before now, Declan wouldn't have argued. Wouldn't have thought anything of it.
Victoria was an innocent victim of his failure to stand up to his father and marry the woman he loved.
At least, that was what he had always believed.
“Well, thank you for your concern, Uncle,” he said flatly.
Daniel hesitated before nodding.
“Well then, I'll take my leave. I'm just glad you’re both okay.”
Again, no mention of Elysia.
No concern for her.
Daniel had never openly opposed his marriage, but he had never liked Elysia either.
Back then, Declan had been willing to ignore it.
Daniel smiled at Victoria one last time.
“I hope you get better soon,” he said.
Then he headed for the door. As he passed, he gave Declan a pat on the shoulder before finally leaving the room.
“Are you mad at me or something?” Victoria asked the moment the door shut behind him.
Declan didn't answer.
He unpacked the food one container at a time and arranged everything on the overbed table.
“Eat,” he said simply before walking over to the window.
He stood with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest.
The nagging feeling in his gut refused to go away.
His uncle and Victoria knew something.
Something he didn't.
“You've been so cold towards me, Declan. Do you not love me anymore?” Victoria asked, her voice trembling with sadness.
Declan turned to look at her, his brows drawing together.
“What do you mean I've been cold towards you?”
For f**k's sake.
He really didn't need this right now.
“I called for you, but you're only here now,” Victoria said, her eyes already filling with tears. “Do you not want me anymore?”
Declan pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You should eat before it gets cold,” he said simply.
“That! That's exactly what I'm talking about.” Victoria's voice rose. “You're avoiding this conversation.”
She pointed at him accusingly.
“You said you'd never leave me, yet the moment Elysia takes off to God knows where, you start panicking and ignoring me. You ignore us!”
At the word us, she pointed to her stomach, making it clear she meant both herself and the baby.
“You're shouting,” Declan said. “Stop.”
Victoria stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Then she grabbed the overbed table and flipped it over.
Food containers crashed to the floor, scattering across the room.
“I'm shouting?!” she screamed. “Don't tell me what to do! You can't use me and abandon me the moment you're bored of me, Declan!”
Declan's eyes widened.
He had never seen this side of Victoria before.
Was this what the nurses had been talking about?
“Elysia is my wife! How am I supposed to explain that I can't find my wife after a fire I got everyone else out of safely?”
Declan's voice rose too. He hadn't meant for it to.
God, he was just so tired of all this.
He was seeing an entirely different side of the woman he had spent five years fighting to end up with.
And honestly? It horrified him.
“Your wife?” Victoria laughed hysterically.
“Your wife?”
She stopped abruptly and looked at him.
“Then what am I?” Her voice cracked.
“If you care so much about her, then why the hell have you spent the last five years of your marriage with me?”
She screamed the last part and grabbed a pillow from behind her, throwing it at him.
Declan opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Nothing came out.
He didn't have an answer for that.
Victoria grabbed the IV needle from the back of her hand and yanked it out.
Then she climbed off the bed and slowly stepped closer to him.
“Don't forget,” her voice trembled, “you're the one who convinced me to stay. You're the one who told me you didn't love Elysia and that one day you'd make me your wife.”
She placed a hand over her stomach.
“I'm carrying your child, Declan.”
Then she poked a finger against his chest.
“And I'm tired of being called a mistress. A homewrecker. The other woman.”
Panic stirred in Declan's chest at the sight of the blood beginning to bead around her hand where the needle had been.
But there was guilt too.
Because everything she said was true.
He had been the one who made her stay.
Looking at it from the outside, listening to her say it aloud, he sounded like the villain in her story.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.
Victoria broke down completely.
She moved closer and began hitting his chest with weak, tearful fists.
“Why?” she cried. “Why do you keep choosing her over me?”
Tears streamed down her face.
“I'm the one who saved your life all those years ago. I'm the one who loves you.”
Declan reached for her instinctively, trying to steady her.
If only he had looked deeper.
If only he had paid closer attention to Victoria's words.
He would have realised that most of them weren't pleas.
They were threats disguised as heartbreak.
He pulled her into a hug, but she wouldn't stop.
“That's enough,” he said quietly.
Victoria struggled against his hold.
Elysia.
That damn b***h.
Even in her absence, she still had to compete for Declan's love and attention.
She hoped Elysia had ended up dead somewhere.
When the firefighters had brought out the severely burned body the night before, she had genuinely hoped it was her.
For a moment, she had been happy.
Declan Windsor was hers. He had always been hers.
And she would never let Elysia take away what belonged to her.
Declan tilted his head toward Mrs. Whitmore.
She understood immediately. Without a word, she turned and hurried out of the room to find a doctor.
A few minutes later, she returned with a doctor and a nurse in tow.
The doctor moved quickly.
Before Victoria could react, he pressed a syringe against the side of her neck and injected the sedative.
Victoria froze. Her eyes widened slightly.
Then, slowly, her eyelids began to droop.
Declan carried Victoria in his arms and gently laid her back on the bed.
Unconscious, she looked the same.
The woman he had loved. The woman he had fought to keep.
Her earlier outburst hadn't made him love her any less. It had only revealed a side of her he hadn't known existed.
For a moment, she had looked like a completely different person.
“That should keep her asleep for a few hours,” the doctor said. “She needs the rest.”
Declan nodded. “Thank you.”
He reached out and gently brushed a strand of blonde hair away from Victoria's face, tucking it behind her ear.
Victoria was beautiful. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.
Yet, for some reason, Elysia suddenly crossed his mind.
Her long dark hair. Her small brown eyes.
Declan frowned. He didn't know why he had just compared them.
He had never done that before.
He had barely paid attention to Elysia at all. Or maybe he had. Maybe he had simply refused to acknowledge it.
He stepped back. Then his phone vibrated.
Pulling it from his pocket, he opened the message Bene had just sent.
It was a photograph of a man.
Declan's eyes narrowed.
Hold on.
He recognised the man.
This was the St. Laurent family's former gardener.
The man who had disappeared after Elysia's father died. The same man the police had once wanted to question because they suspected foul play in the case.
His phone suddenly rang.
Bene.
Declan answered immediately.
“Boss,” Bene said the moment the call connected.
“Why did you send me a picture of the St. Laurent family's former gardener?” Declan asked.
There was a note of triumph in Bene's voice when he answered.
“I got someone to identify the man from the security footage. The one caught on camera before the fire broke out.”
Declan's expression hardened.
“He's the one from the footage,” Bene said.
Silence stretched across the line.
“What?”
“And I have reason to believe he's the one who started the fire, Boss.”
For some reason, Declan's gaze drifted back to Victoria.
“Were you able to track his location?” he asked.
Bene hesitated. Then he sighed.
“He's dead, Boss.”
Declan's grip tightened around the phone.
“He died this morning. Crushed by a hit-and-run driver.”
- Writer
