My bodyguard called, his voice shaking.
“Mr. Thornwell… your rosary beads were taken by Mr. Gideon’s people. They said it was a discharge gift for Laurent. We tried to stop them, but they beat us.”
I tracked them down to the villa on the outskirts of Texas.
Once, it was a wedding gift from Aveline to me. Now it had become their love nest.
The décor was redone to Laurent’s taste—trees in the yard trimmed into the shape of two people kissing.
When I arrived, they were grilling in the garden, feeding each other mouth-to-mouth like love-struck children.
Laurent spotted me and grinned, slipping his arm through Aveline’s.
“Brother, you came. Did you finally realize Aveline loves me more? That her neglect drove you to apologize? Or…” He raised his wrist, showing off the beads.
“…are you here for these? I heard you spent a billion on them. Precious, huh? Aveline gave them to me because I’ve been having nightmares. She said they’d calm me. Just like this villa—also compensation from her.”
Aveline pinched his nose indulgently.
“Gideon, control your dogs. If they touch Laurent again, I’ll cut off their paws and feed them to the strays. As for the beads and the villa—take it as your apology. Don’t lose your head.”
I laughed. The sound was hollow, dangerous.
So this was the same woman who once pushed me into madness, who thrilled at every outburst, who delivered my enemies to me for torture.
And now she recoiled from the very madness she once adored?
I pulled a folder from my bag and hurled it in her face.
“Aveline, look carefully.”
Her expression barely flickered.
“Those aren’t beads. That’s our dead child.”
The words hit the yard like thunder.
I remembered the night like poison.
She was kidnapped, and I stormed the enemy base to save her. That’s when I discovered where my son had been taken.
On the surveillance feed, I watched as they strung his tiny two-month-old body into prayer beads. While I faltered, blades pierced me dozens of times, stealing my ability to father another child.
I slit my captor’s throat, faked my death, but the beads were already gone.
Aveline stared at the documents, silent. Then she turned to Laurent.
“Laurent, I’ll find you better beads. This one—”
“I won’t!” His voice cracked, desperate. “The seller said the child’s birth hour gave him a Oracle’s blessing. Beads like these calm the mind, strengthen the body. Nothing else compares.”
His eyes filled with tears as he clutched Aveline’s hand.
“Didn’t you say you’d make it up to me for that night? That you’d compensate me? Then give me this. The doctor said I might never have children again. Only these beads can heal me. Aveline, I want the fruit of our love.”
Tears slid down his face, pitiful, shameless.
And Aveline… chose him.
She leveled me with a cold gaze.
“The child has been dead for years. What use is it to bury beads in the dirt? Better Laurent have them than waste them.”
“Aveline,” I roared, “that was your child too! Do you know how many years I bled to track them down, just to give him a grave? My enemy mocked me to his deathbed, never revealing who bought them.”
She only rubbed her temples, impatient, as if my grief was nothing but noise.
