15. Chapter 15

15

I laria stomped up to the second floor, filled with adrenaline after the confrontation with Soren. Yet she also felt more exhausted than she ever remembered being.

The door to her room was ajar, with the staff having already delivered her suitcase up here. She stepped over the threshold and let out a big sigh of relief. Rather than taking one of the guest bedrooms on the third floor, she had a permanent room in the family's wing. It was a big room, with an en suite bathroom. Cool gray walls, navy blue drapes, and white bedding on the king size bed made her feel immediately relaxed and at home. The small modern off-white sofa in front of the gas fireplace added to the warm ambiance. She felt as if she could dive into bed and sleep for days.

And maybe she should, if that meant avoiding Soren for the rest of the trip. She didn't mean to bring up the kiss, but she just couldn't help herself. He was so full of himself, telling her what to do, that she felt an unnatural urge to take him down a few pegs.

She had never considered herself a shrew, but around him, all her sarcasm and bad manners flew out at him with no conscious intention on her part. All her usual verbal filters dissolved when he was around, and she went for the jugular.

So did Soren, apparently. You didn't like getting rejected…It's time to take responsibility. She scoffed and flopped onto the bed in a huff, still too wired to sleep. His arrogance knew no bounds. He had been cruel back then, and now he justified it, speaking to her as if she was a spoiled rich girl who threw tantrums when she didn't get what she wanted.

Ilaria growled and smacked the pillow, trying to quiet what was ping-ponging around in her head.

For a second, she saw herself from afar, then groaned. She was throwing a tantrum right now, she realized.

It was time for a bath, she decided. Then she would take a nap, and when she woke up it would be as if the conversation never happened. She groaned again as she got up off the bed, her body feeling the effects of the long night. She trudged to the bathroom and turned on the faucet to fill the oversized tub.

The staff had thoughtfully provided lavender bath beads and salts, both of which she threw in liberally as the water filled the tub. It was time to take the most decadent of all baths.

She stripped off her clothes, all of which needed a good wash after the night she just had. On came the music from her phone, a soft trumpet jazz. Then she slipped into the slightly too-hot water and dunked her head under.

She came up for air and leaned back, slipping low enough until the water settled just under her chin. The tub was large enough that she could still stretch her legs straight. She took a deep breath, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. The warm water lulled her into relaxation.

But Soren's accusations burned through her as if they had uncovered some truth. Was he right? Was she holding onto this resentment because he had rejected her? There was some grain of truth to that, she was loath to admit. His rejection had seemed excessively harsh when his actions unequivocally indicated that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. It was downright confusing, his abrupt one-eighty. She felt she had always read people accurately, and it was humiliating to discover how wrong she was.

Ilaria dunked her head under the water again, trying to clean away the stain of humiliation. Maybe it was finally time to let this go; to accept that she had misinterpreted his actions; to accept that he hadn't reciprocated her feelings of attraction, and still didn't.

She heaved a big sigh, blowing bubbles in the water. If there was anything she prided herself on was that she was not a coward, even if it meant facing herself when she was wrong. Even if it meant a hot guy she was insanely attracted to didn't return her feelings. She had allowed the resentment to fester for the last few years, and she decided, once and for all, that it was done. It was time to reclaim control and rebuild her self-esteem, one that was not contingent upon the opinions of a man.

She sat up quickly, feeling purposeful with her next steps. She drained the water in the tub, dunked a glob of shampoo in her hair to wash out the oil residue, and rinsed. After toweling off and drying her hair as much as she could, she set her alarm to wake her in one hour. Then, despite the knowledge that there were people out there trying to kill her, having claimed a measure of control, she promptly fell asleep.

***

Ilaria came down the stairs, feeling a lightness that she hadn't felt in a while. She was hoping to find Niema, get a snack, and pour herself a drink, not necessarily in that order.

When her alarm had beeped, her eyes popped open. It was the perfect length of nap to refresh her without getting in the way of bedtime. She'd still need a full night's sleep, but the nap would get her through the rest of the day.

Changing into a dark blue short sleeve blouse, slim-fitting tan pants, and gold sandals, curling her hair into loose waves, swiping on a smoky eyeshadow, and liberally glossing her lips, she felt great. No matter what disaster came at her the rest of the day, she was prepared.

Her grumbling stomach led her feet to the dining room, where tea and snacks were being set out. Niema was just leaving, balancing a plate full of cakes and cookies.

"Ilaria!" she exclaimed. "I was hoping you were around. Hope you're hungry."

"Starving, actually," Ilaria replied.

"Then follow me," Niema instructed. She made her way to the covered outdoor lounge and set the plate on the glass coffee table. "I didn't get us any tea. I figured you might want something stronger."

At that moment, a house staff member came over and set a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table. He opened the bottle and poured two full glasses.

"You're a mind reader," Ilaria laughed as she handed a glass to Niema and took the other for herself.

"To you being in Scotland again," Niema toasted. Glasses clinked.

Ilaria sighed after taking a sip from her glass. This spot was one of her favorites in the house, after the library. Overlooking the infinity pool, it was the perfect location to watch a sunset on a warm summer evening.

Her stomach grumbled again. Niema handed her the plate. "You could use a cookie or two," she said lightly. "Or three."

She picked off a tea cake and took a bite. Sweet, moist, and light. "Yum," she said with her mouth full. "I must look like I need food. Everyone seems really invested in my eating."

Niema plucked a scone off the plate and bit off half of it in one bite. "I'm definitely one in favor of being fashionably thin, but you've taken it to a new level, sweetie." She finished chewing. "I'm sure it was tough to learn about your parents." She touched Ilaria's arm.

"It was," Ilaria agreed, "but I know I need to take care of myself." Those were Soren's words. Not that she'll admit it to him.

"Good." Niema's eyes glinted as she took another sip from her wine glass. "And I think self-care can include a bit of wine, don't you?"

Ilaria laughed. "Absolutely." She clinked her glass on Niema's then snagged an iced shortbread cookie with strawberry jam from the plate.

"I think I'm going to steal your chef," she declared.

"Do it and you'll be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life," Niema countered, laughing.

"Hmm, that might be worth it," Ilaria mused as she popped the rest of the cookie in her mouth.

Ilaria scanned the younger woman's face. "So, how's life been going? In general, I mean." They texted each other occasionally, but it was difficult to be in constant contact with each other's busy lives.

Niema eyed her with a sly look. "I know you're dying to know about my love life, and I promise I'll tell you all about it. But I need to brag first about my promotion at work." She sat up straight and took another drink of wine. "I just got promoted to Senior Director of AI Cybersecurity."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so proud of you." Ilaria leaned in to give her a hug. "Wait, didn't you just start at this company not too long ago?"

"Six months ago." Niema was a tech wiz who worked for a consulting company that provided top-level cybersecurity to exclusive clients, including confidential government agencies around the world. "But I solved this huge problem for one of our biggest clients, a problem that no one else could figure out. And when the position opened, the CEO asked me to step in."

She swiped another tea cookie from the plate. "I asked for double my previous salary and he gave it to me. Which is nothing compared to the millions I saved for the client."

"Good for you." Ilaria was impressed. Not just about the promotion, but Niema's insistence on doing what she loved, even though it was outside of the family business. "I love that you've paved your own way and never apologized for it."

Niema laughed. "I'd be terrible at Soren's job. I could never apologize for wanting to do something I was good at."

"Then it's a good thing you found something you're so good at." Ilaria squeezed her hand. "Are you traveling a lot?"

"Less, now, after the promotion," she replied. "I didn't mind the travel, being single and all. But it's also nice to be home and see everyone regularly."

Ilaria knew how close-knit the siblings were, feeling a pang of envy. Her mother had once told her she and her father had wanted more kids, but life happened. It would have been comforting to have close siblings to lean on while dealing with her parents' deaths.

But it was no use wishing for what wasn't. And if she had to console herself with surrogate siblings, then the MacGregors were the best there were.

"Okay, enough stalling," Ilaria ordered. "Your love life. Who have you been seeing? How serious is it? I need details." The wine was loosening her up.

Niema grinned. "It's really not that interesting."

"Uh-uh." Ilaria shook her head. "Specifics."

Niema huffed. "Okay, well, I had been seeing this one guy, Dean. It was really fun for a few months. He was smart, funny, really hot. I mean, really hot." She paused for another sip from her glass. "And then…he wanted to have the conversation. What did I want out of life, when do I want to get married, how many kids did I want? Even though only a few months ago, he had said he wasn't looking to settle down yet!"

She threw her hands up. "Ilaria, he actually said he could see himself proposing to me later this year." Ilaria's eyes widened. "So I had to end it."

Ilaria winced. "I bet he didn't take it well."

Niema rolled her eyes. "Not at all. I mean, we were having fun. Why did he have to go and ruin it?"

Ilaria smiled in sympathy. "He fell in love."

A grimace. "Blah. Being in love is overrated."

Ilaria couldn't disagree with that. She needed some more wine. She grabbed the bottle and refilled both of their glasses.

"Okay, now onto you," Niema said. "Now look who's stalling," she said in response to Ilaria's face. "C'mon, tell me."

"Honestly, it's been a desert," Ilaria admitted. "I've gone on dates. Many, many dates. But they're either too much of this or not enough of that. Even when they're hot, I find something wrong with them." She rolled her eyes. "And I'm just tired of the game."

Niema frowned. "When you say ‘desert,' does that mean you haven't had sex? Like, in how long?"

She wrinkled her nose. "There have been a few I felt like sleeping with. But let's just say it was…underwhelming."

Niema groaned and laughed. "Ouch."

"And, hell, how long has it been since the last time?" Ilaria looked upward to think. "At least six months." She shook her head at the prospect of her long dry spell. "Ugh. I really need some action."

"Both of us do," Niema agreed.

Ilaria saw Rowan walking through the living room in the house and waved. "Hey, Rowan," she called.

Niema whipped her head around to look. Rowan headed toward them, his smooth gait nearly silent on the wood floor, and she turned back around, her face suddenly impassive.

Interesting.

"Hi, Ilaria," Rowan said in his deep voice. "Niema." His hazel eyes glowed in the late afternoon light. He ran a hand over his buzzed brown hair.

"Rowan," Niema replied casually, barely flipping him a glance.

Rowan eyed the wine and snacks without comment.

"You're welcome to join us," Ilaria offered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Niema's back tense.

Rowan glanced at Niema as if assessing her, then looked back at Ilaria. "Thanks, but I'm looking for Soren. Have you seen him? He's not in his office."

"No, I haven't seen him," Ilaria responded. And I hope I don't.

"He's probably in Uncle Galen's office." Niema said. She continued to look down into the glass in her hand.

Rowan studied her for several moments. "Thanks. When either of you see him, can you please let him know I stopped by?"

Niema said nothing, so Ilaria jumped in. "Absolutely."

He nodded and turned to go back inside. "Oh hey, Rowan, thanks again for helping me this morning," she added.

"Of course." He went back in, taking long, silent strides.

They watched his back until he disappeared from view.

"What happened this morning?" Niema asked at the same time Ilaria said, "What's going on with you and Rowan?"

"I asked first," they both said, then dissolved into laughter.

"Fine." Ilaria sighed. "When I was driving up this morning, someone tried to run me off the road. Now your turn."

Niema's eyes widened. "Hang on, back up. Someone tried to run you off the road?"

"It was most likely the person who killed my parents—" Niema looked appropriately alarmed. "—but Rowan, Soren, and Elowine, were coming up behind us and chased off the attacker," Ilaria finished.

"Ah…" Niema nodded in understanding. "So that's why Soren looked pissed in the kitchen after you guys got here."

"So I'm fine. See?" She spread her face into a wide smile. Niema's face showed concern, and before her friend could say something about Ilaria's safety, she said, "And I promised Galen that I'll stay with Soren whenever I'm out of the house."

"Okay, whew." Niema looked relieved. "None of us want anything to happen to you."

"I'll be fine," she said firmly. "Now tell me. What's with you and Rowan?"

"Nothing," her friend hedged.

She narrowed her eyes. "Why don't I believe you?"

Niema let out an audible sigh. "Jesus. I—" She covered her face, "—think I have a crush on him," she moaned into her palms.

Ilaria laughed and tugged at Niema's hands. "Stop hiding your face. Does he know?"

"Given that I'm always acting like an idiot around him, I'm sure he does," she said miserably.

"How do you know he doesn't feel the same?"

She covered her face again. "No, please don't ask me to tell him," she begged. "If he doesn't see me that way, it would be so awkward I might actually have to move out. Plus, I don't want to put Soren in the middle. Rowan is one of his best guys."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Ilaria promised.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a head of buzzed brown hair disappear around the corner of the living room.

"Thanks." Niema flipped her shiny black hair. "For now, I'm content to live in la-la land and dream about the possibility."

Ilaria chuckled. "Got it."

Her friend's eyes took on a sneaky gleam. "In the kitchen earlier, I sensed something going on between you and Soren."

"What do you mean?" Ilaria hedged. She really didn't want to tell Niema the whole sordid story.

"Now I don't believe you." Niema rolled her eyes. She grabbed Ilaria's hands. "Can I tell you what I think?"

Ilaria nodded warily.

Her voice lowered. "I am almost sure that Soren had a major crush on you when we were younger, and I'm willing to bet money he still has feelings for you." She tilted her head, studying Ilaria. "And I also think there's a good chance you feel the same way. But…"

Ilaria waited, her stomach tightening.

"...something happened between you two the last time you were here, because it got really tense and awkward. And now, the two of you are bickering like an old married couple," she finished.

Ilaria stared at Niema, amazed. She paused for a long moment. "Something happened—"

"I knew it!"

"—but I can't tell you the details. It just wouldn't be fair to him."

Niema squinted her eyes. "Just tell me this: did he hurt you?"

Ilaria weighed her words. "Not…exactly." How was she going to explain this one?

Her friend scowled. "I'll kill him."

She put her hand on Niema's arm. "I misread the situation. Completely. He doesn't feel anything for me at all. So if I was hurt, it was my own dumb fault." That was as detailed as she was willing to get.

Niema's brow furrowed. "He said he doesn't have any feelings for you?"

"Pretty much." Except his actual words were ten times more cruel.

"I could have sworn he did," she said. "The way he looks at you…"

Ilaria shook her head. "Don't read more into it than what's there. That was my mistake. I've let it go and I'm moving on." She cringed at hearing his words being repeated from her lips.

"Well, okay." Doubt laced Niema's voice. Then her face brightened. "Then let's take you out while you're here, if you're up for it. We'll meet some guys, have some drinks, and do some harmless flirting."

"Deal," she said. "And we'll just ignore the surly bodyguard in the background."

"To drinks and harmless flirting," Niema called out, holding her glass with the last sip of wine left.

"Here, here." They clinked and downed the rest of the wine.

Soren took that moment to walk out onto the patio. "What are you two toasting?" His steely gaze scanned Ilaria up and down.

"Nothing," Ilaria and Niema both said and laughed.

His eyes held questions, but neither women appeased his curiosity.

"Rowan was looking for you," Niema supplied.

"I talked to him," Soren said. He didn't elaborate.

Soren changed the subject. "Ilaria, are you ready to go see your parents right now? I was able to get a small window of time at the morgue."

The light feeling she had since her nap suddenly became heavy.

"If you're not ready, we can go another day," he added quietly.

"No, I'll go now," Ilaria decided.

Niema reached for her hand. "I can come along if you'd like."

She shook her head. "It's something I have to do myself." She hugged Niema. "See you at dinner."

***

Ilaria's stomach churned the entire ride over to the morgue. Questions charged through her. Would her parents look like her parents? Would she recognize them in the way she always had? How would she feel when she saw them? What would she say?

She stared straight ahead, not seeing the moving landscape. At the edge of her awareness, she noticed Soren occasionally glancing at her, but she ignored him. If there was a blessing right now, it was that she was barely aware of him at all.

Soren pulled the Land Rover into an open parking spot directly in front of the building's door. It was already evening, and she was allotted thirty minutes, he had told her, before the morgue closed for the day.

She followed Soren into the gray building, then followed the technician down a gray hallway to the fluorescent-lit room in which her parents' bodies were held. Two mounds on tables were covered by sheets.

The technician murmured something to Soren and then walked out. Soren touched Ilaria on the arm. "I'll be right outside if you need me." She nodded.

Ilaria stood rooted to the spot for a minute. These were her parents' bodies, but they weren't really her parents. Their life force was gone. Yet she felt their presence, free of their physical bodies. She didn't know which religion's beliefs were right. She just knew they were with her and always would be.

So she could speak to them anytime, anywhere. And that realization, more than anything, gave her enough comfort to finally start letting go of their deaths.

But while she was here, she would give them this last respect and say goodbye to their bodies.

Ilaria took a deep breath and stepped over to the smaller form under the sheet. She lifted the sheet over her mother's face. Even though she expected it, it was still a shock to no longer see her mother there.

"Hi, Mom," she whispered. "I know this isn't you anymore, but I still want to say that I love you and I miss you." Tears overflowed onto her cheeks. "There are so many things I wish for that can't happen now. I wish you could be there in person to see me get married, be a grandmother to my kids. I wish you could be here to give me a hug."

Her chest constricted, and she let out a sob. "But you taught me not to have regrets, and to have courage, and to keep moving forward. So that's what I'm doing. Maybe not perfectly all the time, but I'm doing it."

She pulled the sheet back over, kissed her fingers and pressed it on the sheet. "I love you, Mom."

Ilaria then went over to the larger form and lifted the sheet back. She couldn't contain her sobs then and let them loose.

After several minutes, she was able to catch her breath. "Dad, I wish you could be here to see me. I'm going to make you proud, okay? I promise. So no need to worry about me. I'll be just fine."

She sniffled and wiped her nose. "Dad, remember when you first showed me the business, and I was so sure I would never get it? But I have been getting it, and I know you saw that too. You said that recently, remember? That you were impressed how much of a knack I have for the business."

Tears ran down to her chin. "I'll grow the business for you. I'll make you proud. I love you, Dad."

She covered her father's body and pressed a kiss to the sheet. She walked toward the door and looked back. "I know I'm saying goodbye to your bodies, but not to you. You won't be here in person, but you'll be here with me anyway. I know it."

Ilaria mopped her face and blew her nose. Then she took several deep inhales and opened the door.

She didn't want to look at Soren, but she could feel his eyes on her as she came out into the hallway. She made a sharp turn toward the building exit.

She didn't take more than two steps before she felt a hand on her arm, stopping her, turning her around.

Don't look at him.

But, like before, she couldn't help herself. One glance at him—his eyes more blue than gray, his expression soft and open with compassion—made her face crumple.

"Come here," he whispered. Her shoulders shook as he cradled his arms around her and held her whole body tight against his.