While she was trying to pull herself together and move away from there, she ran her fingers over his name, as though she was memorizing everything about him for one last time, knowing that the life that she was in now would change forever now that he was not in it.
Everything she knew outside of when they were together was about to go back to the way it was before she met him or possibly get worse than she remembered it to be. Either way, it was not a life she had asked for or even wanted, a part of her that she always kept hidden from him.
There was a part of her he never knew, a part of her she could not let him see, that part of her life that was filled with nothing but hatred, venom, and power play among the city's most noble families.
Her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as she gritted her teeth; pain, anger and all other emotions coiled within her in a toxic concoction at the mere thought of having to go back to the life she once lived, the life she once walked away from, since she had a reason.
Now that reason was gone, the purpose of not staying was gone, leaving many doors closed around her and only one open, the one she wished she did not have to walk through.
While she was lost in her pain and thought, she heard footsteps and her entire body tense up as she glanced beside her and a pair of black boots came into view.
She blinked in confusion, slowly raising her eyes to see who was there with her.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a sleek black suit already damp from the rain. His expression was unreadable beneath a pair of dark sunglasses, despite the storm and overcast sky. No umbrella. No hesitation. He was the kind of man who followed orders, not emotions and right now he was looking at her intently.
"Miss Valemont," he said, his voice flat and slow. "I think you have been out here long enough."
Her stomach twisted, a feeling she did not like. She knew that voice; it was one she had not heard in two years, ever since she got married and she was hoping she would never have to hear it again, but fate had a twisted sense of humor when her life was concerned, apparently.
"I do not want you here; go away," she said, brushing off her clothes as she straightened up. "I did not ask to be followed, nor do I want anything to do with any of you."
He did not flinch at her tone; he stepped closer with his eyes narrowed. "Your grandfather's orders were clear and I am here to see them through. He wants you back."
She scoffed at his tone, turning away from him. "My family, especially the men in it, wants to control my life; they want control now more than ever, not closure. None of them had the decency to even come to his funeral."
"That is not my place to speak in your family matters unless I need to. You have been ignoring calls from the estate. You are needed immediately."
She clenched her jaw, her heart pounding against her chest. He was not listening to her; none of them were. They were only thinking about what they wanted. "I do not belong there anymore. I gave up that name the day I married, Kael."
The man took a step forward, lowering his voice as he met her gaze. "You might have run from your title, Miss Valemont, but blood does not change no matter how much you may wish for it. And neither do debts."
Her breath caught in her throat at his words and his grey eyes narrowed.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small black envelope, sealed with a wax crest. One she hadn't seen since she left home, one that she knew the meaning of all too well and she did not like it; she felt as though she was being suffocated.
A symbol of power. Of secrets. Of everything she wanted to forget.
"You are being summoned. You don't have a choice."
She stared at the envelope in his hand, then at the grave behind her.
Kael's name looked smaller now. Distant. She did not like it, not one bit.
"I do not want to go back there; I will not go back," she whispered, half to herself.
The man's voice dropped even lower as he stepped closer to her, almost crowding her against the tombstone. "I am your family's right-hand man; I follow their orders, and you don't have to want to. You just have to obey and everything will be just fine."
Before she could speak again or even try to move away from him, he reached for her arm. His grip was firm but not rough. Enough to let her know she wouldn't be walking away from this.
"Let go of me!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the stormy cemetery. "I do not want to go back; you cannot just force me like this. Let go of me!"
He yanked her closer to him, her body pressed against his chest as he looked down at her, his chestnut brown hair flowing behind him due to the strong wind.
He leaned in closer to her. "Miss, do not make this harder than it already is. Come along with me or I will not be gentle or patient any longer. That is my last and only warning to you."
He dragged her along and she gritted her teeth; tears threatened to rise again, but she blinked them back. This wasn't grief anymore.
This was war.
As he pulled her toward the waiting car, she cast one last look over her shoulder.
The grave. The storm. The shadows.
She didn't see the figure watching her from behind the statues.
But he saw her.
He watched her get dragged away.
And he smiled.
She had no idea what was coming.
Not yet.
But soon.
Because the dead don't always stay buried.
And the truth? It had claws.