I try not to focus on that as I follow his movements and sit on the edge of the bed beside him. Jonathan places a phone to his ear. “Moses. Search the glove box in Aurora’s car and bring me the flash drives in there.”

Why would he need them?

Wait… “Are you going to get rid of the evidence?”

Jonathan hangs up but keeps his phone in his hand. His expression is still that bland one, but something about it bothers me. The emotions he’s hiding behind his façade seem wrong. “There’s no evidence, because that nonsense didn’t happen.”

“Alicia said you poisoned her in order to kill her.” I probably shouldn’t be accusing him this openly, but it’s out there now, so I might as well hear his take on it.

“I want to hear it for myself.”

“More like you want to destroy the evidence.”

“If I wanted to kill Alicia, I would’ve done it right after she gave birth to Aiden. I wouldn’t have waited until eight years later.”

“Why would you even want to kill her? She was the softest person alive.”

“She was, and that softness ruined her.” The warmth in his tone takes me aback. It’s the first time he’s actually talked about Alicia without his usual impersonal touch.

“What happened, Jonathan?”

“Why do you want to know?” He narrows his eyes on me. “So you can engrave me in your head as your sister’s killer?”

It’s the exact opposite. Despite hearing Alicia’s message, a rebellious part of me refuses to believe Jonathan hurt her or would hurt me. That’s why I want him to talk, so that I’ll be able to murder that part of me.

“I told you my side of the story. It’s your turn, Jonathan.”

“Is that why you ran away and tried to escape?”

I bite my bottom lip.

“You don’t trust me?” Though his voice is calm, there’s an angry undertone to it.

“I trust my sister.”

“You shouldn’t. At least not blindly. She was mentally unwell.”

I puff my chest. “My sister was not crazy.”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “And you wonder why I call you wild one. You look the part right now.”

“If you expect me to stay still while you badmouth my sister, you have another thing coming.”

“I’m not badmouthing her. I’m stating facts that she tried her hardest to hide from you and the world.”

I inch closer to him until my thigh nearly touches his. “What do you mean?”

“Alicia’s father was the King family’s arch enemy. Lord Sterling was out to destroy my father and any legacy he left behind because my mother didn’t choose him. After my parents’ deaths, I decided to destroy him.”

I gasp. “Is that why you married Alicia? For revenge?”

“Yes.”

“How could you do that to her? You tyrant! Brute!” I curl my palm to punch him.

Jonathan cuts me a sharp glare. “Reopen your wounds and I’m tying you the fuck up, Aurora. I meant it earlier.”

The thought of being helpless causes a shudder to overtake me. I let my palms fall to my sides, but he doesn’t stop glaring at me, the sense of injustice on my sister’s behalf enveloping me whole. “Why would you do that to her?”

“She knew.”

“W-what?”

“I told her about my reasons from the start.”

“And…she agreed?”

“Indeed.”

“But why did she?”

“Because she hated her father for your mother’s death and wanted to bring him down. She didn’t have enough power to accomplish that, so I lent her that power and gave her the ability to see her father on his knees. He came to our doorstep, begging us to loan him money to save his business. I made sure no one else would, so his only solution was us.”

“And?” I scoot over, and this time, my thigh touches his. I want to watch his expression closely as he tells me about the past. But it doesn’t change much, except the part where he seems trapped in another timeline.

“She gave him money.”

“Oh.”

“She was that soft.”

“Did you…” I trail off, the question catching in my throat.

“Go ahead, ask. If you don’t voice your question, you might never know the answer.”

“Did you ever love her?” My words are small, barely audible.

“I thought I did, in my own way. Alicia was my wife, the mother of my only son, and she did everything I asked without giving me attitude about it.” He stares down his nose at me, driving the point home.

“Well, sorry I’m not a replica of her.”

His lips pull in what resembles a smile. “That, you aren’t. So far.”

“What do you mean by so far?”

Jonathan’s phone vibrates and Moses’s name flashes on the screen.

He puts the phone to his ear, listens without speaking, then hangs up. The line between his brow creases as he stares at me in a strange way.

It’s the second time Jonathan has looked at me like this — like he’s seeing a ghost. The first time was at Aiden’s wedding.

“What is it?” I murmur. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“There were no flash drives in the car.”

“Of course there were. I put them in there myself. Are you sure Moses didn’t get rid of them?”

“Moses would never do something without my order.”

“They’re in the glove box. I’ll go check myself.”

He grips me by the arm, disallowing me from leaving his side. His expression falls, almost like he’s disappointed, but in what? And why the hell do I hate that he’s directing that expression at me?

“Why the hell do you keep looking at me like that?” I snap.

“Are you sure you received those messages?” His tone, although not harsh, feels like a slap across my face.

“Of course I did! Do you think that I…I made it up or something?”

He says nothing, but that expression doesn’t disappear. If anything, the line in his forehead deepens.

“I received recordings from Alicia, Jonathan. I did!”

When he continues his infuriating silence, tears form in my eyes — angry ones. Why the hell is his disbelief affecting me so much? All I want is to reach out and erase that look off his beautiful face. I don’t want him regarding me that way, not now. Not ever.

“Paul!” I snatch his phone. “I’ll call the concierge of my building. He’s the one who contacted me whenever I had a wooden package that contained a flash drive. I’m going to put it on speaker so you can hear that I’m right.”

Energy bubbles in my veins as I unlock the phone using Jonathan’s fingerprint and punch in Paul’s number. I learnt it by heart from how much I manically checked to see if I’d gotten a new message.

Jonathan doesn’t stop me as I place the phone between us while it rings.

“Hello,” Paul’s voice comes from the other side.

“Hey, Paul. This is Aurora from 19.”

“Hello, Miss Harper.”

What’s with the formality in his tone? Anyway, that’s not what’s important right now. “Paul, remember when you used to call me whenever I received a small wooden box?”