Rose Thorns & Love Letters

34 ➪ Love, Helena

•Phoenix•

15/3/1897
Gilbert my dear,
I must admit. Falling in love with you most certainly was not anticipated. I cannot ascertain what it is that I fell so deeply for. Perhaps it is your starry eyes. Perhaps it is your dashing smile. What ever it may be, I love you.
Love, Helena

__________________

I have always believed myself to be a respectable man. Honourable if I am really pushing it. But never, ever would I have considered myself to be a stupid one. Yet here I am storming out of my biggest enemy's home after his daughter tried to confess her love for me.

This is what I wanted. It was all a part of the plan. The plan I was skeptical about, yet went through with anyway.

Build a relationship with her, make her believe she is in love with me, get her to trust me enough to tell me direct information about her father, murder Marcello D'Angelo Forest.

So why is there a fierce tugging in my chest and regret bleaching my blood blue? The look on her face when I got up and left can not be recreated nor imitated. It was one I never want to see again

Removing the warmth of her body from mine was an even bigger challenge than restraining myself from giving her all of me. Not because she is resistible, but because this may have been the last night that she chooses to allow me into her house.

The last night that she chooses to kiss me for doing something so minor as finishing a bowl of spaghetti. The last night that she chooses to trust me enough to tell me that she loves me.

I am a selfish bastard, I am sure of it. Because despite knowing that I may or may not have broke her heart tonight, I would do nothing different.

I bring my phone up against my ear and listen to the number dial. The phone is answered after three seconds and the sound of clicking keys fill my ears. Bash does not bother to greet me. He just gets straight to the point.

"Marcello has a first class plane ticket booked for the 22nd of October. That's...next week. The flight is scheduled to takeoff at 05:00 and land at 10:00." Bash informs me.

22nd of October. Her birthday. So the bastard ditches for 4 months and decides to return for her birthday? What is he planning to do— bake her a cake that spells out sorry for the lost time? Fucking bastard.

"There is no traceable plane ticket that landed him in Florida so I assumed he flew in a private jet. I researched all the private jet owners registered in Chicago for the past year and his make and model came up. I hacked into its spreadsheet and recorded dates of use and my assumptions were proven correct. He did fly into Florida in his jet. But the reason he isn't using his jet to fly back is because it has been labelled with a disastrous occurrence." Bash explains.

It takes me a moment to process the new information being fed to me, but when I do, my brows furrow in confusion. "What are you saying?"

"His jet was targeted. Mini bombs were placed in the engines coming up to two months ago now."

My mind wanders back to the phone call between Camilla and her father a few months back. He had claimed that he would be returning in 2 months, but after the time had run out, Camilla showed me the vague text from her father changing his plans.