The Palace (Chateau 4)

Raven continued to shout at me. “I don’t care how you know him when you’re living in this mansion and life is good! He chooses to execute innocent people. Period. Some of those women could be your friends. One of those women could’ve been me. The only reason why it wasn’t is because Magnus saved me. Let that sink in.”

I inhaled a deep breath, more tears falling down my cheeks. “I understand…I do. I feel both things at once. I hate him for the things he’s done, but I’ve also fallen in love with the other side of him. You have no idea how ashamed I feel right now, feeling you looking at me like that, knowing you’re right and I’m wrong. But I also can’t change the way I feel, because I’ve never felt this way about a man in my life.”

Raven had no sympathy whatsoever. “You’re too young to know what real love is. You’ve barely had a long-term relationship with any man in your life. You’ve just been traumatized by what you’ve been through, and you found a man who can protect you against all that. Stockholm syndrome. It’s not real.”

Magnus gripped her thigh. “Ma petite amie—”

“Stay out of this.” Raven didn’t look at him.

He didn’t get a word in, but I appreciated the fact that he tried. He was on my side. I knew he was. “Raven…” I wiped away my tears with my fingertips and breathed until I was calm enough to speak. “I know it’s wrong…I do. If I could just not feel this way, I would. I know Magnus and Fender are totally different people, but how are you going to be with a man who continually works at the camp? Maybe he doesn’t like it, but he still participates. Fender doesn’t like it either, but he feels like he has no other choice. Why can you be with Magnus, but I can’t be with Fender? Magnus has never actually tried to stop anything.” I didn’t mean to throw him under the bus, but I viewed the brothers as the same person. They were both good men doing evil things because they were still in survival mode, even though they’d made it back on their feet a long time ago.

Raven’s gaze turned cold. “He saved us, didn’t he?”

Magnus turned his gaze on me, looking past Raven’s head. “I will stop it.”

My eyes focused on him, the only person who understood exactly how I felt.

He broke contact and looked at the wall again. “I don’t know how, but I will.”

Raven inhaled a deep breath, and a look of pride came over her face.

Magnus spoke again. “But I understand, Melanie.”

My eyes slowly softened, and I wanted to reach for his hand, my lifeline. When I wasn’t in the room and Raven said how terrible I was as a person, he would be there to defend me, to ask Raven to have compassion rather than hate.

Raven looked at him, unsure of the meaning of his words.

He continued. “Fender is a good man. He’s loyal like no man I’ve ever known. He’s strong, refusing to break for anyone. He’d cut off his own arm and give it to somebody he cared about if that’s what made them happy. He’s just hurt by what happened to us, and somehow having all the money in the world will make our father pay for what he did to our family. Hurt people hurt people…and Fender is so traumatized by what he had to witness in our childhood home that he’s numb to the pain and suffering. It doesn’t justify what he’s done. But he’s not himself. He hasn’t really been himself since that night. I believe he can see reason and change. I do. Yes, Melanie, I understand. I hate him for what he’s done…but I still love him.”

My conversation with my sister haunted me every single moment of every single day.

Until Fender came home.

I spotted his car at the gate, and I ran downstairs to the foyer to meet him when he pulled up. I stepped outside onto the steps and watched his powerful car circle the roundabout and park at the curb.

He stepped out, dressed in all black, black boots on his feet. He shut the door and stared at me for a moment before he came around the back of the car, the valet taking the seat he’d just vacated and driving off.

With that intense stare, he walked up to me, his gaze piercing my flesh.

My arms immediately circled his neck, and I pressed my cheek to his chest, inhaling the scent that had started to fade on the sheets, feeling the warmth that was hotter than the summer sun. I closed my eyes as I held on.

His powerful arms circled my body, holding me tight, and he rested his chin on my forehead, one hand digging into my hair. He held me that way without saying anything, his breathing steady and slow, peaceful.