Chapter 10: Truths Unveiled
2064words
Thorne drove with one hand, his injured arm held slightly away from the steering wheel. The white bandage peeking from beneath his borrowed tactical jacket stood stark against the black fabric. He'd taken that wound for me—stepped between a knife and my heart without hesitation. The realization settled in my chest, warm and painful simultaneously.
We bypassed the Blackwood mansion, continuing north along the Hudson until the city's density gave way to the wooded seclusion of his rarely-used country estate. The Georgian-style house stood apart from its neighbors, surrounded by acres of manicured grounds that ensured privacy. A place for conversations that couldn't happen elsewhere.
The car crunched to a stop on the gravel driveway. Thorne killed the engine but made no move to exit, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
"No staff," he said finally, breaking the silence. "No security cameras. No one to hear whatever truths we need to share."
I nodded, appreciating the precaution. What I had to tell him would sound like madness to any listener—perhaps even to him.
We entered the house through a side door, Thorne disabling the security system with practiced movements. The interior revealed a different aesthetic than his Manhattan properties—warmer, more personal, with antique furniture and walls lined with books rather than modern art. A home rather than a statement.
He led me to a sunroom overlooking the gardens, morning light streaming through windows that wrapped around three sides of the space. Two armchairs faced each other across a low table, as if arranged specifically for the conversation to come.
"Tea?" he offered, his voice carefully neutral.
I shook my head. "Let's not delay this any longer."
He nodded, lowering himself into one of the chairs with a controlled movement that couldn't quite hide his physical discomfort. The knife wound was clearly causing him more pain than he'd admitted to the paramedics.
"Vivienne said something," I began, choosing my words carefully. "Before the police took her away. She told me to ask how you found me."
Thorne's expression remained impassive, but his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the armrest. "I received coordinates in a text message."
"That's not what she meant," I pressed. "She seemed to think there was something... impossible about how you located me."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truths. Outside, a gardener's distant figure moved among the rosebushes, oblivious to the weight of revelations about to unfold within these walls.
"I've been tracking her movements since she disappeared," Thorne admitted finally. "After our... disagreement, I was concerned she might target you. Harrison placed a tracker on her vehicle three days ago."
Relief and disappointment mingled strangely in my chest. Part of me had wondered if Thorne somehow shared my impossible knowledge—if he too remembered a future that hadn't happened yet. The rational explanation grounded me back in reality.
"You suspected she would come after me," I stated rather than asked.
"I know the patterns of vindictive people," he replied, his gaze steady on mine. "Vivienne lost everything—her home, her reputation, her relationship with Dominic. People with nothing left to lose become unpredictable."
I nodded, acknowledging the truth in his assessment. "She wanted to make you kill me," I said softly, the horror of her plan still fresh. "That drug she had—she planned to frame you for my murder."
Thorne's jaw tightened, the only visible sign of the rage I knew simmered beneath his controlled exterior. "A plan that would have failed even if I hadn't arrived when I did. My security team was tracking both of us. The warehouse was surrounded within minutes of my entry."
The revelation surprised me. "You never intended to come alone."
"I never intended to risk your life," he corrected, leaning forward slightly. "But I needed Vivienne to believe I had followed her instructions. The only way to ensure your safety was to make her think she had won."
His tactical thinking impressed me, though a small part of me wondered if I would have done the same in his position. Would I have risked his life on the calculation that backup would arrive in time?
"What happens to her now?" I asked, the question that had been weighing on me since the police had taken Vivienne away.
Thorne's expression hardened. "Kidnapping, attempted murder, conspiracy—the charges alone would ensure a lengthy prison sentence. But I've already spoken with the district attorney. Given the elaborate nature of her plot and her increasingly erratic behavior, a psychiatric evaluation will be ordered."
"You think she's insane?" The question emerged more sharply than I'd intended.
"I think," he replied carefully, "that Vivienne's obsession with destroying you has consumed her to the point where she's lost touch with reality. The evidence of premeditation, combined with her statements about 'doing this before' and 'not letting you win this time,' suggests delusions that a competent psychiatric professional will recognize."
The calculated nature of his response sent a chill down my spine. "You're ensuring she'll be committed rather than imprisoned."
"I'm ensuring she never has the opportunity to harm you again," he corrected, unapologetic. "Prison terms end. Psychiatric commitments for dangerous individuals with persistent delusions can last indefinitely."
I should have been disturbed by the cold efficiency of his strategy, yet I found myself nodding in agreement. After everything Vivienne had done—in this life and the one I remembered—I couldn't summon sympathy for her fate.
"And Dominic?" I asked, thinking of his warning call that had come too late to help me.
"Cooperating fully with the investigation," Thorne replied. "Self-preservation at work. He claims no knowledge of Vivienne's plan, though he admits she had become increasingly fixated on revenge against both of us."
"Do you believe him?"
Thorne's lips curved in a humorless smile. "I believe Dominic lacks the courage for direct confrontation. He prefers manipulation to violence. In this instance, his cowardice works in our favor—he'll distance himself from Vivienne to save his own reputation."
The assessment aligned with what I knew of Dominic—in both timelines. He was dangerous through weakness rather than strength, a man who would allow terrible things to happen while maintaining plausible deniability.
"He'll never change," I observed quietly.
"No," Thorne agreed. "But he can be controlled. His position at the company now comes with oversight that prevents him from accessing significant resources or making unilateral decisions."
The pragmatism of his approach aligned with my own thoughts. Neither of us harbored naive notions of forgiveness or redemption. Some threats needed to be neutralized rather than reformed.
Silence settled between us, comfortable yet charged with unspoken questions. The morning sun climbed higher, casting dappled patterns across the polished floor. In the distance, birds called to one another, oblivious to human concerns of justice and vengeance.
"There's something else we need to discuss," I said finally, meeting his gaze directly. "Us. This engagement. It began as a business arrangement, a tool for revenge. But now..."
"Now Vivienne has been neutralized," he completed my thought. "The immediate threat removed."
"Yes," I acknowledged. "Which raises the question of whether we continue with an arrangement that's no longer necessary for its original purpose."
Something flickered in Thorne's eyes—vulnerability quickly masked by his habitual control. He rose from his chair, moving to the windows with measured steps that betrayed no hint of his injured arm's discomfort.
"What do you want, Elara?" he asked, his back to me as he gazed out at the gardens. "Now that revenge has been secured, what future do you envision?"
The question hung between us, weighted with possibilities. I stood, crossing the room to stand beside him at the window. Our reflections overlapped in the glass—his tall frame, my smaller one, separate yet somehow unified by all we'd experienced.
"I want," I began carefully, "to stop living in reaction to what Dominic and Vivienne did or might do. I want to build something that exists for its own sake, not as a response to their actions."
Thorne turned slightly, his gaze finding mine in our reflected images. "And what would that be?"
I reached for his hand, my fingers intertwining with his. "A real partnership. A relationship based on choice rather than necessity or revenge."
His hand tightened around mine, the only indication that my words had affected him. "You're certain?"
In answer, I turned to face him fully, my free hand coming up to rest against his chest. Beneath my palm, his heart beat steady and strong—a rhythm I'd come to find comforting in ways I hadn't anticipated when this arrangement began.
"The night of our engagement party," I said softly, "you told me you'd wanted me for years. That no other woman had existed for you since you first saw me. Was that truth or performance?"
"Truth," he replied without hesitation. "Every word."
The simple confirmation warmed me from within. "Then yes, I'm certain. What began as strategy has become something I'm not willing to relinquish, even with Vivienne neutralized and our revenge complete."
Something in his expression shifted, the perpetual guardedness giving way to an emotion I'd glimpsed only in rare, unguarded moments. His hand came up to cup my face, his touch achingly gentle against my skin.
"I have wanted this," he admitted, his voice low and intimate, "from the moment you walked into my study with your audacious proposal. Not just revenge or the merger, but you—choosing me, seeing me as more than Dominic's cold, calculating uncle."
The vulnerability in his confession touched me deeply. For all his power and control, Thorne Blackwood had his own insecurities, his own fears of rejection and inadequacy.
"I do see you," I assured him, leaning into his touch. "More clearly now than ever before."
The kiss that followed held none of the performance of our engagement party display, nor the passion of our night together. Instead, it carried the weight of genuine choice—of two people selecting each other not from necessity or strategy, but from recognition of something valuable and rare.
When we finally parted, the morning sun had climbed higher, bathing the room in golden light that seemed to underscore the moment's significance. Thorne's expression had softened, years of careful control temporarily set aside.
"What happens now?" I asked, the future suddenly open with possibilities that had nothing to do with revenge.
"Now," he replied, his arm encircling my waist to draw me closer, "we begin again. Not as a business arrangement or a revenge strategy, but as partners who have chosen each other with clear eyes and full knowledge."
The simplicity of his answer resonated within me. Beginning again—not with the naive optimism of my first engagement to Dominic, but with the wisdom earned through pain and betrayal. A second chance at building something genuine from the ashes of what had been destroyed.
"I'd like that," I said softly, resting my head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear grounded me in the present moment—not dwelling on past injuries or future threats, but simply existing in the now we had created together.
Outside, the world continued its ordinary rotation, oblivious to the private revolution occurring within the quiet sanctuary of Thorne's country home. Vivienne would face justice, her threat permanently neutralized. Dominic would continue under the watchful control of Thorne's influence. The business merger would proceed as planned, securing both our families' futures.
But within these walls, something more significant had transpired—a shift from strategic alliance to chosen partnership, from calculated revenge to deliberate love. Not the ending of our story, but the true beginning—one written by our own choices rather than in reaction to others' cruelty.
As morning light streamed through the windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like golden possibilities between us, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fully inhabit this moment of peace. Whatever challenges the future might hold, we would face them together—not as weapons in each other's arsenal, but as partners who had found in each other something worth protecting at all costs.
