The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 79 - seventy nine

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Alicia’s POV

When Lily’s mother arrived, the relief on both their faces made my chest ache. They clung to each other like they’d been separated for years instead of minutes.

"Thank you," the mother kept saying, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you so much for staying with her."

"Of course," I said. "We couldn’t just leave her alone."

The mother looked at us, at the way Malachi stood protectively close to me. At how natural we looked together.

"You two make a beautiful couple," she said with a warm smile. "I’m sure you’ll have your own beautiful daughter someday soon."

My mouth opened automatically to correct her. To explain that we weren’t actually a couple. That this was complicated and wrong and not what she thought.

But Malachi’s hand tightened on my waist. A silent message. I glanced at him and saw something in his eyes that made me close my mouth.

After the mother and Lily left, I turned to him. "Why didn’t you let me tell her we’re not a couple?"

What followed was a conversation that left me reeling. His certainty. His possessiveness. His absolute conviction that we were together regardless of legal contracts or family complications.

By the time we got back to the mansion, my head was spinning. I was tired. Emotionally exhausted. The high of the morning had crashed into the reality of our situation.

I clutched Mr. Hopps and headed inside, needing space to think. To process.

But as I walked through the foyer, one of the maids approached. "Miss Alicia, Mr. Blackwood senior would like to see you in his study."

My stomach dropped. Pa Wood. What did he want? Was this about Travis’s accusation? About Malachi?

"Now?"

"He said whenever you returned home."

I took a breath and headed toward his study. Knocked on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in."

Pa Wood was sitting behind his desk, papers spread out in front of him. He looked up when I entered and gestured to the chair across from him.

"Alicia. Sit down, please."

I sat, still holding the stuffed rabbit. Probably looked ridiculous, but I needed something to ground me.

"I wanted to apologize," he said without preamble. "For what Travis said yesterday. The accusations he made. They were completely out of line."

"It’s fine," I said automatically. "He was drunk."

"That’s not an excuse." Pa Wood leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. "You’ve endured a lot in this family. More than you should have to. And I want you to know that I see that."

The words caught me off guard. I’d always assumed Pa Wood saw me as just another piece in the Blackwood chess game. A pawn married to Travis for business purposes.

"I understand your struggles," he continued. "Being married to a man who doesn’t appreciate you. Living in a house that must feel like a cage. Caring for your sister while dealing with my family’s dysfunction." He paused. "You’ve shown remarkable strength."

I didn’t know what to say. Compliments from Pa Wood were rare. Usually, he was all business. Cold. Calculating.

"Thank you," I managed.

"I also want you to know that I support you. Whatever decisions you make. Whatever path you choose." His eyes held mine. "You deserve happiness, Alicia. Don’t forget that."

Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Did he know about Malachi and me? Or was this about something else entirely?

"I should let you rest," he said. "You look tired."

I stood up, grateful for the dismissal. This conversation had been unexpected and I needed time to process it.

As I turned to leave, my eyes caught on something on the wall behind his desk. A photograph in an ornate frame. A woman with dark hair and a bright smile. Beautiful. Young. Full of life.

And at the bottom of the frame, initials carved into the wood. E.C.

Emily Cartwright.

My breath caught. This was her. The woman Travis kept a picture of locked in his safe. The woman he mumbled about when he was drunk. The woman who’d clearly meant something to this entire family.

And the woman the masked stranger at the party had asked me about.

"Do you know what really happened to Emily Cartwright?"

The memory of his words sent chills down my spine.

"Alicia? Are you alright?"

I realized I’d been staring at the photo. Pa Wood was watching me with concern.

"Yes. Sorry. I just—" I gestured vaguely at the picture. "She’s beautiful."

Something painful crossed Pa Wood’s face. "She was. Very much so."

Was. Past tense. So Emily was dead. But how? And why did everyone in this family seem haunted by her?

"I should go," I said quickly. "Thank you for the talk."

I left the study before he could say anything else. My mind was racing. Pieces were clicking together but I didn’t understand the full picture yet.

Emily Cartwright. Adopted by the Blackwoods. Clearly beloved by Pa Wood. Obsessed over by Travis. And somehow connected to Malachi’s investigation into something dark.

"Do you know what really happened to Emily Cartwright?"

What had happened to her? And why did that masked stranger assume I’d know?

I walked quickly to my room, needing privacy. Needing to think.

Inside, I set Mr. Hopps on the bed and pulled out my phone. Typed "Emily Cartwright Blackwood" into the search bar.

Very few results came up. A small obituary from three years ago. Died during childbirth. No other details.

Childbirth. She’d had a baby. But there was no baby in the Blackwood house. No child that would be around three years old.

What happened to Emily’s baby?

I kept searching but found almost nothing. It was like her existence had been carefully erased. Scrubbed from public record.

My phone buzzed. A text from Cassie.

"Hey! Hope you had fun at the party. That guy you were dancing with at the end seemed intense. Do you know who he was?"

The masked stranger. Cassie had seen him too.

"No idea," I typed back. "Did you see where he went after?"

"Nope. He just disappeared into the crowd. Kind of creepy tbh."

Creepy was right. Someone who knew things about me they shouldn’t. About Emily. About my father. About things I’d never told anyone.

Who was he? And what did he want?

I looked at the stuffed rabbit on my bed. At the photo strip from the booth in my purse. Reminders of this morning’s happiness. Of Malachi and me pretending to be normal.

But we’d never be normal. Not with all these secrets. Not with Emily’s ghost hanging over this family. Not with masked strangers asking questions I didn’t have answers to.

I lay back on the bed, exhaustion finally hitting me. Today had been everything. Joy and fear and confusion all mixed together.

And at the center of it all was Malachi. The man who’d given me the best morning of my life. Who’d claimed me as his. Who was investigating something dark about Emily’s death.

Did he know I’d seen her picture? Did he know I was starting to put pieces together?

I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. My mind kept circling back to that photograph. To Emily’s smile. To the initials carved in wood.

E.C.

And to the question that wouldn’t leave me alone.

What really happened to Emily Cartwright?