Page 211 of Arrow

The door finally opened, and Arrow strode in, stopping dead when he saw me. Even in my agitated state, I couldn’t help but notice how devastating he looked in his half-dressed state—dress pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. His eyes darkened as they swept over me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, closing the door behind him.

“My father came to see me,” I said, watching his face carefully for any reaction. “He told me to ask you about the night my mother died.”

Arrow went perfectly still, his expression shuttering closed. That reaction alone made my stomach drop.

“What did he tell you?” Arrow’s voice was controlled, measured.

“That the Romanovs were involved somehow. That you know what happened.” I stepped closer, searching his face. “He’s lying, right? Tell me he’s lying.”

Arrow’s jaw tightened, that muscle jumping beneath his skin. “It’s complicated.”

The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. “Complicated?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “My mother’s suicide is ‘complicated’?”

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the perfect styling. “Your father is trying to manipulate you. Today of all days.”

“Then tell me the truth,” I demanded. “No more secrets. No more half-truths. What happened to my mother?”

Arrow moved to the window, staring out at the city below. For a long moment, he said nothing, and I felt the silence stretching between us like a chasm.

“It was after Luca died,” he finally said, his voice low. “A charity gala. Your mother was there.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “And?”

“She was beautiful. Sad. Luca’s death broke her. She drank too much champagne and talked too freely.” His eyes met mine in the reflection of the window. “She told me things. About your father. About the man he really was.”

“What things, Arrow?” I whispered, though part of me didn’t want to know.

Arrow turned to face me. “Things you already know. He was a monster to her as much as to you. She knew that your father was making plans to sell you like a broodmare to the highest bidder, and he had his mind set on the Albanians.”

The Albanians had a reputation for brutality that made even the Romanovs seem tame. I’d heard stories of their men treating their wives like property—worse than property. I swallowed hard, trying to process what Arrow was telling me.

“My mother knew about this?”

“She knew everything.” Arrow’s voice softened. “She told me she couldn’t protect you anymore. That she was too weak, too broken after Luca. She begged me to look out for you when she was gone.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You spoke to my mother the night she died?”

“I drove her home from the gala,” Arrow admitted, his eyes never leaving mine. “She was too drunk to drive herself. Your father wasn’t there—business in Miami. She invited me in for coffee to sober up.”

A terrible suspicion began forming in my mind. “And then what happened?”

“We talked for hours. About you. About Luca. About the life she wished she could have given you.” His jaw tightened. “She told me that your father had already started negotiations with the Albanians. That in a year or two, you’d be married off to cement an alliance.”

My stomach turned.

“She was desperate,” Arrow continued, his voice dropping lower. “She knew what that life would do to you.”

“Did you . . .” I couldn’t finish the question, the words stuck in my throat.

“No,” Arrow said firmly. “I didn’t kill your mother, Harlowe. But I didn’t stop her either.”

My legs felt weak. I sank into the nearest chair, gripping the arms to steady myself. “What are you saying?”

Arrow knelt before me, his eyes level with mine. “She had pills filled with arsenic. She’d been planning it for weeks. She asked me to stay with her, to make sure she wasn’t alone at the end.” His voice cracked slightly. “I tried to talk her out of it. But she was determined. She said it was the only way she could protect you.”

“By leaving me alone with him?” The words came out as a broken whisper.