Arabella gasped. "What do you mean I'm the key?"
Leaning back in his chair, Sawyer tapped his fingers briskly on the surface. "You hold the power. Whoever runs you runs the legacy. Should you support Grant, the empire is his. Should you side with Hudson, it is his."
Arabella felt dejected. This was not only for her. She was a pawn in a power struggle she had not even entered.
"I never asked for any of this," she replied, her voice trembling under the burden of the awakening.
Sawyer's face stayed blank. "Ms. Kingsley, the reality is you must decide. You determine the legacy."
Arabella felt as though the earth had moved under her feet. Everything was connected to this game she never wanted to play: her future, her son's future.
The stakes were more than she could possibly conceive.
The clatter of cups and the quiet buzz of conversations went almost unnoticed. Arabella's pulse raced as she entered the packed downtown cafe.
A link to the new life she had struggled to create, her fingers grazed the supple leather of her camera bag.
Having just finished a lengthy shift, she was catching the core of Houston via her lens and assembling bits of her past self. It seemed like a life she could live, free of deception and complexity. Arabella could not afford peace, however.
Approaching the counter, she felt a sharp chill down her back, and her instincts were on high alert. She turned a bit and looked around the space; she froze.
Near the entryway stood Scarlett Caldwell, the woman whose presence constantly appeared to cloud the air around her, who had previously been a fixture in Grant's life and now, in Arabella's.
Her platinum blonde hair flowing down in flawless waves, her sharp, analytical gaze fixed on Arabella's with a look that could stop anyone in their tracks, the woman seemed as polished and composed as ever.
It was the same poisonous stare Arabella had previously dreaded, the sort that never really left her.
Scarlett purred, her voice soft with a sting that would hurt, "Arabella. It's been some time. Still, I figured I should stop by. We have to talk."
Arabella's pulse raced as the all-too-familiar anger surfaced. She wasn't in the mood for this. Not now. Not after all else.
"Scarlett, what do you want?"
Her heels clicking loudly on the floor, Scarlett walked past her uninvited. Arabella tensed but carried on. A quarrel on her porch was the last thing she wanted.
"Haven't you been rather quiet?" Scarlett replied, her voice oozing with false kindness. "You seem to have discovered your small refuge here.: all nestled away from the world, sheltering from everything approaching."
"Arabella, you cannot escape the past. It's always just behind you."
Arabella turned to face her and closed the door, her jaw tightening. "You are still fixed on that, right?" she shot back, attempting to keep her calm.
"Still resentful that you didn't receive what you sought? What precisely brings you here? To try to turn things once more? To portray me as the bad guy?"
Scarlett turned slowly, her lips curling into a frigid, analytical grin. "Arabella, dear. It's no longer about what I desire. It's about reality. The reality of who you are." She stopped, eyes narrowing.
"You believe you are deceiving everyone. You think you are innocent. But I see past you. We all see past you."
Though her heart ached in her chest, Arabella stood her ground. "You know nothing about me. You never did."
"Oh, I know just what you are," Scarlett hissed, her voice dripping with poison as she moved forward.
"You are a gold-digger: a lady who lured a man for his money and influence. You put Grant under a contract; you acted the widow when he vanished. Arabella, you have everyone duped. You have performed this role so beautifully."
The words struck Arabella like a smack across the face, but she refused to let them show. Scarlett's warped interpretation of events had finished her.
"That's not true," she murmured, her hands trembling at her sides and teeth gritted. "You are only upset since you lost him. You didn't obtain the life you imagined, so now you're attempting to destroy me. Once more."
Scarlett's lips formed a grin that was far from pleasant. "Do you believe I'm upset? Not really, sweetheart. I'm only reminding you of your place. I'm telling you that reality will always follow you no matter how much effort you put into trying to run away from it."
Cold and last, the words hung in the air. Scarlett's comments sank into Arabella's heart, pounding against her ribcage and eating away at the delicate illusion of tranquility she had attempted to create.
Frozen as Scarlett turned and went away, she remained there with her presence still in the air like a storm cloud.
Arabella's heart raced in her ears. What was she truly to Grant? Had everything she had thought been nothing more than a lie? Was she just another woman in a long line of transient ties, disposable when he had no need for her?
Before the cafe door opened again, the bell above it rang gently, and Arabella hardly had time to absorb Scarlett's remarks. Though her head was still spinning, she turned absentmindedly; the view that greeted her caused her to pause again.
Brooks Davenports
The man who had before been her universe. Her first infatuation. Though the years had chiseled a bit more maturity into his face, he was standing there looking just as she recalled.
With his rough look and dark eyes full of tales she had never known, he had always been a riddle for her.
Now, there he was, entering her life when she least anticipated it.
Brooks immediately drew her attention, and a slight smile pulled at the edge of his lips. Though dubious of his welcome, his big shoulders were stiffened; still, he approached her confidently.
"Arabella," he said, his deep, familiar voice suggesting time had never gone. It has been far too long.
Arabella swallowed, not knowing what to say. Her heart betrayed her, thumping frantically in her chest as she struggled to recall the years since they last met.
Once she had loved him sincerely, she had abandoned him, just as she had abandoned all else.
"Brooks." Her voice broke, revealing her emotions. "Why are you here?"
Brooks leaned in, his eyes softening with the warmth she recalled, the warmth that had formerly made her feel as though she was the only person in the world.
"I returned a couple of weeks ago. Finding you was difficult, or whether you even desired to be located. But seeing you here, I had to come over."
Arabella stepped back, her heart a tangle of feelings. Why at this time? She had created a life for herself, one that didn't require him, didn't need anyone. Nonetheless, seeing him again awakened something in her.
Something she had long buried.
"Do you want to talk?" He extended his hand; Arabella reflexively withdrew.
Her tone was somewhat too severe as she said, "I don't know whether I can." She looked at him and noticed the slight pain in his face. "Things are not easy."
Brooks nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. "I understand. I heard about it all. I know it has not been easy. But I am present now. Arabella, I only want to assist you. You need not suffer alone."
Arabella felt a tightening in her chest. She wished to trust him. She hoped there was someone who cared and hadn't gotten caught up in betrayals and falsehoods. But she was unable to. Not once more could she let him in.
Though the words seemed false even as she said them, she softly added, "I don't need help."
Brooks' face grew darker, and the slightest hint of envy was showing in his eyes. "You believe you're the only one he's harmed, right?"
Arabella tensed, heart pounding. "I have no idea what you mean."
Grant's shadow hovered between them as though he were still there, a phantom hovering over every word they spoke. Arabella's heart ached.
How could she go on when everything and everyone looked to drag her back into the past?
Brooks moved closer and brushed his hand against hers. "You remain the lady I have always loved. Nothing has changed on my side."
Arabella sensed the gravity of his words, the fervor underlying them. Confusion filled her head; her emotions for Grant and Brooks were about to consume her