✓ WICKED VOWS| JAKE (Book II )

32-Her Muse In Black

Jake's pov

The aftermath was a storm of chaos. The media's presence was suffocating, the palace lay in shambles, and my family stood fractured. The inferno of anger had devoured my insides, and I reveled in its ashes.

After the haunting conversation with Anna at two in the morning, I drifted into a senseless sleep, my exhaustion a relentless tide. The night before had been spent erasing every trace of incriminating photos, ensuring there wasn't a single copy left—sealed with my grandmother and her investigator whom I was to going to kill. I awoke late the next morning, ten o'clock already passed, to find my wife nowhere in sight.

I completed my morning rituals and prepared for work. Before leaving, I caught sight of Anna and Alex by the pool once more. Alex's gaze lingered on me, a silent confrontation, while Anna remained indifferent, her eyes never meeting mine. This woman, a symphony of mournful intelligence and beautiful darkness, was not a lover but a guardian to her nephew, as if he were her own child—her family. But would she ever acknowledge it?

Never. She was like a haunted house, her soul with ghost echos. Her fragile facade was a house of cards, cursed and untouchable.

I spent the day at the hospital, immersed in a two-hour surgery, before checking on Harry and other patients. It was enough for one day. I sent a brief message to Ethan, asking if he would attend the Royal Ascot in two days and suggesting we meet beforehand to discuss the Duke of York. I planned to revoke his title, but i was in need legal proof, and Ethan-my brother lawyer would handle the rest.

As David parked at the house, I made my way to the stable, where I had sorely missed my stallion and mare. They nickered softly as I fed them strawberries and groomed them, savoring the brief moment of peace.

An hour later, I finally entered the house, finding no sign of the two. As I moved through the wing, I caught the childish giggle of Alex—Jay's child was a beacon of joy within his family, but seldom with others. I approached Anna's old room, the door slightly ajar, and saw them both sitting on the ground. What were they doing?

In the dim glow of the room, Anna lay sprawled across the wooden floor, surrounded by a chaotic array of art supplies, makeup, paints, and brushes. Alex was engrossed in a weird canvas, while her gaze remained intensely focused on him. I found myself questioning, was she truly not a lover of art?

I stood there, silently observing her attempt to paint with him. My hands slipped into my pockets, where I felt the lighter I'd stolen from her. I couldn't explain why I kept it or why I'd taken it. Perhaps I hoped she wouldn't smoke again, or maybe I was jealous of those cigarettes touching her lips, especially when she wore that necklace with the crimson diamond—it was dear to her, and I'd seen Inna wear the same.

Her bare legs taunted me, clad in a loose-fitting top with delicate stripes and a classic button-up design, paired with wide shorts. Suddenly, Alex's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Why are you standing there?"

Right, why was I standing there?

"I adore seeing artists in the making," I replied, stepping inside and making my presence fully known to my wife, who still had her back to me. I knew she sensed me before Alex did, but she didn't acknowledge me.

"My mom is an artist," Alex retorted, as if defending her against an unspoken accusation.

"I know, she's a wonderful one too."

"I am an artist too." Alex's glare was sharp, filled with something twisted that I couldn't quite place.

"I don't doubt that, Alexander," I muttered, puzzled by why this child made me feel so defensive.