The Finisher (Dark Verse Book 4)
: Part 2 – Chapter 15

PART 2

THE MANTLE

‘And in the end, we were all humans,

drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.’

-Christopher Poindexter

Zephyr

OVER THE NEXT MONTH, they fell into a routine.

On Mondays through Thursdays, Alpha got up early to run the dogs and then train with his men while she got ready for work. She only saw Nala, who came to cook, and Leah, who came to take care of the house, and the dogs post-run. Bear—who she had become most attached to because he was just a ball of love who needed pets and cuddles—was usually the one following on her heels since she woke up. Bandit—who had succeeded in replaceing one of her favorite bras and making it his toy—was moody and came to her when he wanted. Baron—who still didn’t give a shit about anything but his grumpy master—barely even glanced at her no matter how much she tried to get his attention.

Through those weekdays, she went to the salon, finished with her day, and went to replace Alpha at Trident, where she sat on his lap while he usually finished calls. Sometimes, Hector came in and they talked, and he let her sit there, never taking his hands off the armrests. But the fact that he allowed her in on his private meetings gave her hope.

She’d learned a lot about this new Alpha through that. She’d learned that he met with his sentinels once a week to get updates, that he was worried about the killer murdering girls who wanted to get out of the business, that The Syndicate was an organization that didn’t like him. She also learned, through listening in on his calls and watching his men defer to him, that he was both respected and feared, that his girls were grateful to him, that he had built something for himself that the rest of the world didn’t see. To the outsiders, he was just a real estate mogul. To the underworld, he was a man to be taken very seriously. And she, from her completely normal background, was surprised at every little morsel about him that she learned.

After Trident, they went back home together, ate dinner together, and if she could rope him into watching a show or a movie, which she usually did, they did that together. The time they spent fed life into her blood, pumping it through her heart, making her more alive than she’d ever felt. Even though she was the talker between them, he listened, and that made her soft. She’d chatter about her family, her day, her dreams, and he listened to every word. He didn’t respond to most of it, but he was receptive, and that alone made her hold on to hope, even as he constantly reminded her that it was only for a few months and the deadline was approaching.

On Fridays, he went out of the city to check up on his empire, and Zephyr had dinner with her parents, spending the night with Zen before returning the next morning. Though her father had warmed up to Alpha, mostly because she was stinking happy, her mother still hadn’t even though their marriage had definitely benefited her. Her daughter marrying the elusive but filthy rich Villanova had definitely boosted up her social points.

On weekends, she spent her time with her sister at SLF before coming home and spending time with her husband. And it was all great domestic bliss.

Except he held back.

Emotionally, physically, there was a chasm between them she didn’t know how to bridge. No matter how much she tried to seduce him, it didn’t work. He never came into her room, never touched her when she cuddled him, never looked at her if she was half-naked. She bought the raunchiest bikinis and swam around the ridiculously large pool when he sat on the deck with earplugs in listening to rock music she didn’t have taste for, but his eye never went to her. She deliberately wore lingerie for dinner, and he kept his gaze above her neck. She put on her vibrator with the loudest setting, and his door stayed locked.

Weeks and her frustration climbed. While it felt like she was making progress in some ways, she felt stuck in others. He still called them temporary, still stuck to the contract, and while she’d become his housemate, it still felt reluctant. It felt fleeting, like she could walk away and nothing would change.

And it really pulled her low sometimes.

But she didn’t let him see it. She didn’t let him see the ways his deliberate distance chipped at her day by day, little by little, piece by piece. She didn’t let him see how a dry remark sometimes brought back memories that she wished he’d remember, so he could take her into his arms and she’d stop battling for them. She didn’t let him see any of it, just gave him her love and smiles and hoped he fell for her as he once had.

And every day, her hope withered a bit.

Zephyr stood at the entrance to the tower after her day of work, her shoulder slumped.

It was slowly catching up to her, giving and giving and giving, hoping and hoping and hoping. They had been married for a month, and he’d not kissed her, not embraced her, not returned her affection in any form. That one time he’d come to her room seemed nothing but a slip.

“You okay?” Victor asked her as she stood at the tower entrance, not entering.

She gave a smile, even though she didn’t want to.

“Yeah, just… lost in thought, I guess.”

Victor hesitated, before giving her shoulder a squeeze.

She appreciated it. Victor had been a good friend to her. Part of her wanted to not go into the building, only to hold him when he didn’t hold her.

“You know what?” she made up her mind. “I’m going to go grab something to eat there.” She pointed to the café across the street in the other tower. “You go on ahead.”

Before Victor could respond, she crossed the street and entered the café, replaceing a seat in a corner and ordering herself a cappuccino. Zephyr played with her ring as she waited, quiet and contemplating questions, doubt seeping in. She’d talked to Zen about replaceing a medical professional for their opinion on his amnesia, and her sister had told her not to approach anyone in the city. With the connections he had, and the fact that she was his wife, she didn’t want to raise any red flags for anyone about the situation.

She sipped the coffee and looked down at her phone, hesitating before hitting call on the number.

It rang a few times before a husky feminine voice answered. ‘Dr. Amara Maroni.’

Zephyr had a girl crush on Amara and she wasn’t even ashamed about it. A few days ago, she’d found Amara’s contact in her husband’s study next to Dante’s, and saved it, knowing she was a practicing therapist. More importantly, she was family, and she wouldn’t pose a danger to Alpha.

‘Hi Amara,’ Zephyr greeted. ‘This is Zephyr Villanova. Alpha’s wife. We met briefly at your wedding.’

‘Of course,’ she could hear the surprise in the other woman’s voice.

‘Is this a good time to talk?’ Zephyr asked, tracing the rim of her mug with her finger. ‘I need your professional opinion about… someone.’

There was some background noise, and Amara returned, sounding serious. ‘Okay. First, I want you to know whatever you tell me will stay confidential between us. You can be open about whatever you want to discuss. I’m here.’

Total goddess.

Zephyr took a deep breath, making sure she was alone in the corner. ‘Someone I knew a few years ago met with an accident. I recently met… him again but he has no memory of me or the accident. My question is, is it possible that reminding him of our time would affect him adversely? Because his brain had to be keeping certain things away from him for protecting him, right? Or is…’ she trailed off, controlling her mouth before it ran away in her nervousness.

Amara listened, taking her time to reply, her voice soft. ‘The brain is very tricky, Zephyr. It can lock away traumas for entire lifetimes to protect people. Have you spent any time with this person now?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he doesn’t remember you? Not one thing? Even a hint of familiarity?’ she asked to confirm.

‘No,’ Zephyr shook her head.

Amara’s tone turned sympathetic. ‘Then I’m sorry. My suggestion in cases like this is to not remind the patient of the traumatic incident or anything that surrounds it. It can trigger some extremely adverse responses, even psychotic breakdowns in certain cases. If his brain is suppressing you or your memories, the kind thing would be simply starting fresh.’

Zephyr stared at the table. ‘I tried that, and it’s not working.’

Amara hesitated. ‘Is it Alpha?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m sorry,’ the compassion in the other woman’s voice almost undid her.

Zephyr felt her nose burn. ‘Thank you for your help. I’m just at a loss at what to do now.’ And she spilled the entire story, the scheme about the marriage, the distance he kept between them, everything to the woman who listened on without judgment.

When she was done, Amara spoke again. ‘I have some advice but more as a friend than a professional.’

‘Shoot.’

Amara chuckled. ‘Don’t say that around these people. They’ll take you literally.’

Zephyr smiled but waited for the other woman to talk.

‘I don’t know Alpha very well,’ Amara began. ‘But he and Dante are very similar in some ways, and it makes sense. In my case, the one thing that always pushed Dante over the edge to act was distance. Specifically, me putting distance between us in any way. I’m not saying it’ll work with Alpha, but given that you’re at an impasse, it might tip you over either way.’

‘But at least I’ll know if there’s any hope or if we’re doomed.’ Zephyr mulled over the idea. She liked it, mainly because she was already feeling drained with always closing the gap between them. Maybe she needed to stop for a bit, just recharge, not go anywhere but no walk to him either. It had merit. Plus the woman giving the advice had sustained a relationship with a guy like Dante for over a decade, so it had good merit.

‘Thank you, Amara,’ Zephyr spoke sincerely. ‘You’ve been really helpful.’

‘Of course. I’m really glad you felt you could reach out to me.’ Tempest’s wail came in the background, and Amara sighed. ‘Remind me to never have another kid.’

Zephyr felt her lips curl. ‘Dante doesn’t help? I thought he was a hands-on dad.’

‘Oh, he is,’ Amara confirmed. ‘When she’s playing and happy. Is he hands-on when she’s cranky and driving me up a wall? Nope. He’s nowhere in the house. It’s like the man has an internal radar or something. I’m thinking of giving him some distance treatment myself.’

Chuckling at that, Zephyr let Amara go attend to her niece and she sipped the coffee, her mood dipping again. She took as much time and space as she wanted, ordered a caramel latte, and read a gothic romance set on a castle on her phone app. Customers came and went, it got dark outside, and finally, after two hours of sitting there, she paid the bill and got out, still feeling low.

And she just wanted to go home.

Thankfully, Victor was in the car outside the café, waiting despite her telling him to go, and she got in, telling him to take her back. It was a weekday and she was supposed to be at Trident, but she felt off. Victor gave her a questioning glance in the rearview mirror but she ignored it. In half an hour, despite the traffic, she saw the familiar trellis come into sight. She left the car and walked around the hill to the back where the elevator was, greeting members of the staff on the way. The simple elevator took her up, the bark of Bear and Bandit greeting her before she even cleared the level, putting an automatic smile on her face. They greeted her with licks and wagging tails, happy to see her back, and even Baron gave her an ‘oh you’re back’ bark before lying down on the deck. This late, the house was already empty.

Zephyr quickly took a shower and had dinner alone for the first time in weeks, breaking their routine of eating together. Then, even though it was dark, she went for a walk on the track around the perimeter, taking Bear with her to clear her head. Though she didn’t walk the path a lot, the trail was familiar enough for her to be comfortable with the green. It also helped that there were patrolling security guards every twenty feet or so.

Getting back to the house after a while, she opened the door, letting Bear off the leash, only to be met with her husband’s thunderous gaze.

And for the first time since their meeting, she ignored him, turning toward the stairs.

His hand gripped her arm as she passed, turning her to face him.

“Where were you?” he grit out, and Zephyr stared at his chest.

His fingers gripped her chin, after such a long time that she’d almost forgotten what his touch had felt like. How fucking sad was that?

He tilted her face up, his golden eye taking her in. She let him. She stayed silent, which was unlike her, and let him see whatever he wanted to see.

“Where were you?” he asked, quieter now.

She shrugged. “Just went for a walk.”

His thumb traced her chin. “You didn’t come to the tower today.”

Hope. Stupid, idiotic hope.

“Were you waiting?” she asked, hating the way her voice didn’t hide the hope in it.

He didn’t reply, and she sighed. What had she expected? That he would hold her and tell her he’d been waiting for her, that he’d been worried, that he’d come home early to see what was wrong? He might have done all those things, but he’d never admit to them, not when he was intent on denying anything serious between them.

Swallowing, she pulled out of his hold. “Goodnight, Alpha.”

She heard his sharp intake behind her.

Yeah, she never called him Alpha either.

Guess there was a first time for everything.