The Sound of Secrets (The Monsters Duet #2)

Prologue

Channing

It wasn’t every day that I was coerced into marriage by a billionaire then nearly murdered by said billionaire’s lunatic mother.

As a reward for making it through the last several months with my heart and sanity mostly intact, I traded my rusty beachcomber in a small seaside town for a Vespa on the narrow streets of Rome. For a woman who only traveled up and down the eastern coast of the United States her entire life, the change was thrilling and a welcome relief from the turmoil I left back home. I craved nothing more than to indulge in local food and drink while flirting with outrageously handsome European men. It felt harmless, because I knew my words and actions wouldn’t lead to anything I might regret. After all, I was still very much married to the man I left behind.

Unfortunately, I was only in these cities for a brief time, and riding to and fro on the scooter was for work. I’d spent the last three months hopping from one major European destination to the next in search of the best antiques and forgotten bits of décor from the past. I was working from several clients’ wish lists as I dug through old shops and browsed lesser-known auction houses. I was ordered by my boss slash new best friend not to return home until each item was marked off.

I knew from the start that I’d been sent on a global scavenger hunt to keep me busy and keep my mind off both the man and the mess I refused to acknowledge. Alistair DeVere knew I’d never felt qualified for my job at his multimillion-dollar design firm. He said my hands-on experience outweighed any degree, but I firmly believed the position was mine because I was married to his half-brother. While my estranged husband’s family didn’t want to recognize the youngest heir to the Halliday fortune, Alistair remained oddly loyal to his troubled bloodline. Since I felt unworthy and wanted to put some distance between me and my looming issues, no way in hell would I head back to the States until I found each and every item. I resolved to get the job done and return with a sense of accomplishment. Something I’d always lacked in my life.

The only caveat was that I needed to be home in time for my niece’s birthday. She was about to turn fourteen, and while that age may not typically be significant, so much had happened in the last year that being healthy and mentally sound enough to get another turn around the sun was reason enough to throw an epic party. My biggest wish for Winnie was that she get to experience a normal teenage birthday. I hoped she got to be silly, let loose and have fun with her friends, without worrying that she might besmirch the holy Halliday name.

This would be the first birthday party since Winnie had lost her mother, my older sister, that her stuffy, elitist, sociopathic grandmother didn’t plan. There wouldn’t be teacakes and tiaras. There wouldn’t be ballroom dancing and Bugattis. Her gifts wouldn’t cost millions, and the guests wouldn’t be using her party as an excuse to mingle with one of the wealthiest families in the world. For the first time in her short life, Winnie’s special day was going to be about her and her alone. I refused to miss a minute of the celebration that marked a turning point in her life.

So far, things were already off to a good start, because her evil and malicious grandmother was no longer among the living and her father had miraculously risen from the dead. She was like a real-life fairytale princess getting her happy ever after.

Losing her grandmother and gaining her father was a big trade-off Winnie had struggled to come to terms with. I knew she would get there, especially as she got older and was exposed to the world outside of the Halliday shadow. Eventually, she would learn what the rest of the world thought of the Hallidays without the filter of her uncle’s power and influence to color her view.

Colette Halliday, her grandmother and my deceased mother-in-law, was one of the worst humans who had ever walked the earth. I’d never liked her. I always believed she orchestrated my older sister’s murder in a horrendous house fire. The idea was unfounded, just a theory I’d kept deep within my heart. Then it came to light that Colette had indeed started the blaze that left Winnie grieving her parents while Colette hid the fact Winnie’s father survived the blaze. I had no sympathy for her tragic end. I gleefully imagined her burning in hell. Taking my sister’s life was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to how cruel and malicious the Halliday matriarch had been. When the curtain was pulled back on the wealthy family’s secrets, it became apparent Colette might be a serial killer. Not that the news surrounding her demise accurately portrayed the full scope of the evil she was capable of. There wasn’t a single whisper that she probably had her own parents killed and ended the life of the man her own husband right after he changed his will to include the son he had with another woman.

From the outside, the news framed the incident that nearly ended my life and the lives of both of Colette’s sons as an old woman who was careless with the medical equipment in her historic home. The manor already had a history of burning like a match, so nobody was surprised that there was another fire because of carelessness. At least, that’s what the media said now . Right after the Halliday manor exploded, questions swirled and debates waged about what really went on behind the castle walls. My niece was hounded by reporters to the point she needed a full-time bodyguard just to go about her day. She was the lone Halliday available to them; thus, she became the focal point of the media storm until Alistair stepped in to safeguard her. I wanted to stuff her in my suitcase and take her with me overseas, but it wasn’t a practical solution. Winnie was a Halliday, and she always would be. She had no chance of escape from the world that was always watching .

Colette’s youngest son, while deemed a medical miracle after the news of his remarkable recovery was uncovered, was badly injured in the first fire that killed his wife, and was dealing with not only physical recovery, but also drug withdrawal from the heavy medications he’d been kept on for years. Her oldest son, Winchester Halliday, was seriously injured in the blast that killed both his mother and his assistant. The press and upper-echelon gossipmongers had a field day with speculation surrounding the fire and loss of the family’s well-known figurehead. Truth and fiction mixed into sensational stories for the first few weeks because no one in a position of power was able to refute their claims. Winnie was too young and Alistair was never a Halliday. Their ability to perform damage control was limited. However, when it became clear that Win was on the mend, the tone of the story immediately changed, and so did the speculative whispers. The sleeping giant awoke, and he was not happy. The press switched gears, calling everything that happened a preventable tragedy. Which was the same thing they said about my sister’s death. History repeated itself in all the worst ways. My sister had earned the right to rest in peace and escape from the hands of the family that ruined her.

Giving my sister the final goodbye she’d been denied was why I’d left Rome before the sun came up and traveled several hours to Ponza, a small island off the Italian coast It featured brightly colored homes, crystal clear sea views, and craggy cliffs that reminded me of where we grew up, only better. The island had an aura that seemed like the ideal location to release Willow’s ashes, off the beaten path and postcard perfect. I wouldn’t be interrupted by tourists, and the locals were nice enough to guide me to a high point that offered unbelievable views. I made a mental note to come back for a visit when I wasn’t on such a soul-wrenching mission.

For the longest time, I wanted to take my sister’s ashes from the dreary, cold mausoleum my mother insisted upon after her death. I knew Willow would hate such a sterile and boring resting place. I felt guilty about liberating her without telling my parents, but my mother struggled with a severe mental illness, and my father was an asshole. One often forgot Willow passed away, and the other didn’t even bother to show up to her funeral. The only direct family member I’d told was Willow’s daughter, Winnie. Of course, my niece understood my desire to move her mother to a better location, and she agreed with me that her mother would want to spend forever anywhere other than a boring mausoleum in her hometown. The only challenge I faced was that Winnie yearned to be there to say her last goodbye alongside me. She begged and pleaded with me to wait until her Uncle Win recovered enough to travel. Once he was healed, they would fly her on his private jet to wherever I decided to hold the private ceremony.

I desperately wanted to agree, but the thought of seeing Win right still turned me inside out. If I couldn’t have one of them without the other, it was impossible for me to let Winnie have her way. I wasn’t ready to face my nominal husband and the tangled feelings from the unsettled situationship lingering between us. I wasn’t willing to put her in the middle of my deception toward her grandmother. If anyone was going to carry the guilt of lying about where Willow was for the rest of forever, it wouldn’t be an innocent teenager. I was used to carrying the weight of heavy decisions that could never make everyone involved happy, but felt like the best solution to whatever the loom disaster might me.

I was the man’s wife, for God’s sake. Not that I acted like it when it mattered the most.

What kind of wife leaves her husband when he’s at his lowest? In my case, a dreadful, contracted wife. He paid me to get his mother off his back, not to stay by his side while he battled his way back from the brink of death.

And even though I wanted to stay by his side and offer my unwavering support when his world collapsed, I constantly reminded myself that I wasn’t committed to Win by choice. My brain insisted there was no harm in living my life the way I had before he snuck past my defenses. My heart screamed something entirely different. Since the latter always led me astray, I listened to my mind, but lived with deep guilt and regret every minute of my trip.

The big jerk had manipulated me into getting married to escape Colette’s diabolical matchmaking attempts. It worked a little too effectively, to the point his mother tried to kill both of us. Now that Colette was no longer a concern, my fake marriage should be null and void. Only — I’d made every effort to avoid Win since he’d woken up in the hospital. I wanted to pretend like I didn’t owe the man a thing, that our relationship was as simple and adversarial as it had always been, but I wasn’t very good at fooling myself. There was something there that scared the holy hell out of me, so I did a very adult thing and ran away from it.

I fled like a coward. As soon as Win opened his eyes, I knew he was going to understand exactly why I fled. I knew I was being intentionally cruel by leaving when Win was weak and vulnerable. He needed me, but I left.

In the back of my mind, I knew I forced Win’s hand. How was it possible for him to care about a woman as heartless as me? How could such an extraordinary person harbor anything other than disdain for a person as ordinary as me? Gods and mortals weren’t supposed to mix, and when they did, the result was always tragic. I longed for him to walk away from me because I kept hesitating to take the first step away from him, until the opportunity to run was offered on a gilded platter. My foolish heart had a history of latching onto the wrong man, and Win was the most unlikely partner dotting my sordid romantic history. He was, by far, the worst choice to fill the endless void of loneliness I had within me. But thus far, he’d been the only one to stem the flow of endless longing I’d been drowning in as long as I could remember. He was not the lifeline I anticipated.

How was it possible for a man from such a twisted and selfish background to replace the family I’d loved and lost piece by piece?

I let the sea-scented wind whip across my face and tousle my shaggy hair as I gazed over the water. The reddish-blonde mop was shorter than I normally wore due to an unforeseen incident at the now demolished manor. But it had grown like a weed while I was gallivanting across Europe. However, I was still far from feeling like my usual self. To be truthful, I’d been out of sorts since leaving Winnie and Win. I worried about my niece now more than I ever did. And when none of the attractive guys with seductive accents sparked my interest in having a short-term vacation fling, I had to acknowledge that I was obsessed with Win Halliday.

I used to think of him only when I was upset or annoyed about his constant refusal to let me see my niece. When I was younger, I used to marvel at how different his life was from my own. Maybe it was an unacknowledged crush because he was hot, and I was forced to be around him because our siblings were dating. Now, he was never far from my thoughts, no matter what. I knew my emotions for him were beyond complicated. It was my fault for letting him talk me into an enemies-with-benefits agreement. I shouldn’t have slept with him. Sex made our tumultuous relationship even more volatile. Desire clouded reason, and I couldn’t afford to be anything less than razor sharp around Win.

Sighing, I glanced down at the metal box I hauled with me from country to country while trying to find the perfect spot to let go of my sister. When she married Archie Halliday, his family made things difficult, and the two struggled like any other newlywed couple. He lacked the financial means to take my sister around the world. When he went back to the Hallidays to make sure my sister and niece didn’t have to struggle or want for any material needs, Colette controlled his every move so precisely that there was never time or energy for him to take his wife and daughter to any of the places they were excited to see. Nowadays, Winnie was more well-traveled than most adults, thanks to her Uncle Win, and I’d put forth every effort to show Willow as many beautiful places as possible before bringing her to this last resting place to set her free.

I thought I would have a million things to say to my sister at this moment. Instead, I sniffled as tears fell and my hands shook. Silent and somber under the sheer weight of my emotions. Immediately, the salty breeze from the endless ocean swept them away. It was almost as if I wasn’t crying at all. Sadness and regret clogged my throat as images of Willow’s smiling face floated through my mind.

I stroked the top of the box and whispered, “I really miss you. It never gets easier dealing with the fact that you’re gone.” I blinked back the moisture in my eyes that made the scenery blur and gave the box a tight squeeze as I tried to toughen my resolve. “I’m sorry it’s only me here. Winnie wanted to be, but I was too weak to let her come. She’s lost so much, but you can’t tell. She’s dealt with everything far better than I have. I’m embarrassed at how much better adjusted she is than me. I’m doing everything I can to make sure Winnie remembers she’s as much a Harvey as she is a Halliday. I think you would be proud of her. She reminds me of you more and more as she gets older. I promise to keep my eye on her — and Archie. I know you’d be so happy that they have each other, but it’s not the same without you. Nothing is.”

When I became unable to speak because of the intense emotions building inside me, I silently apologized to my mother for my secretive actions. And to Winnie for my inability to overcome my personal obstacles to grant her wish of bidding farewell to her mother alongside me. I promised myself I’d bring her back to this beautiful, rocky point when I had my life figured out.

I’d avoided being a responsible adult long enough.

I opened the box and the sealed plastic bag contained within. It astonished me that someone so much larger than life could be diminished to these small fragments. My tears flowed so heavily that the wind lost its ability to prevent them from running down my cheeks.

Just as I was about to throw the entire box over the side of the cliff, a loud voice rang out, “Wait for me, Aunt Channing!”

I turned and watched as a pretty teenage girl ran at me full speed. Winnie always looked like a younger version of my older sister, but never more so than with the wind in her hair and a wide-eyed expression of panic on her face. It was obvious she was scared that I would disperse the ashes before she got to me, so she sprinted as rapidly as possible.

My gaze locked onto the dark-haired man standing several feet away like Heathcliff brooding on the moors.

Win Halliday.

He looked surprisingly robust for a man who was nearly blown up a few months ago.

Even with the distance between us, I saw that he still had bandages on his hands, and the side of his neck that was exposed from the collar of his shirt and jacket revealed red, healing skin. He was lucky to be alive. I doubted he was healthy enough to make the trek to this island.

But here he was .

Because Winnie wanted to be here. And possibly because he knew I wanted him to be here. I constantly sensed that Win had a better understanding of my wants and needs than I did.

Winnie wrapped her hands around mine. I noticed they were steadier than my hands had been in weeks. I was so selfish when I decided to do this and not let her take part. I hated my weakness and my inability to be the type of person she deserved to have guiding her into adulthood.

With a look that was wise beyond her years, my niece gave me a wobbly smile full of patience and understanding. I was fortunate this young woman was guided by her massive heart, and understood me better than anyone. Even when I was out of line and making moves that wounded her in the name of her own good. She was already a far better human than I’d ever been.

“It’s okay, Aunt Channing. You don’t have to do everything alone all the time anymore. I’m here.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but Winnie seemed like she’d grown and matured in the mere three months I’d been gone. I checked in with her once a week while I was traveling, and I sensed she’d become more reserved and careful with how she spoke. She stayed with my boss, her Uncle Alistair, while her other uncle was in the hospital, but bonding with him and having her father back in her life didn’t stop her from turning into a mini version of Win.

I wanted to apologize, but no words excused me from acting like a child, forcing her to be the grownup in our relationship while I figured my shit out. Thankfully, Winnie’s presence grabbed hold of my spiraling thoughts and dragged my perspective back to where it belonged.

“This isn’t about you or me right now. It’s about my mom.” Winnie let out a soft breath and her wobbly smile solidified. “Uncle Win has my dad on the phone. He agrees this is a better place for Mom to be. Everyone promises not to tell Grandma. No one wants to see her upset. It really is okay, Aunt Channing.”

Taking the teenager’s assurance to heart, all the turmoil that had been eating up my insides settled down. Winnie’s smaller hands squeezed mine as we both said our final farewell and set Willow’s soul free to wander wherever it wanted.

I leaned over to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

“She loved you the most.” I never wanted Winnie to doubt her mother’s devotion.

Winnie embraced me from the side, wrapping her arm around my waist while wiping her wet cheeks with her sleeve. “You too. She loved you a lot, Aunt Channing.” My niece nudged me in the ribs and gave me a knowing look through red, tear-stained eyes. “She’s not the only one who loves you.” She twisted to look over her shoulder where Win was waiting. “I’m sure you know that.”

I refused to turn my head. I could sense Win’s eyes intensely staring at my back. Pretending that I was unaffected was challenging when the man I couldn’t stop thinking about stood a few feet away.

“How did you know where I was?” I’d done my best to keep her updated on my whereabouts so she wouldn’t worry, but I hadn’t considered this beautiful island as my last stop until I overheard a drunk tourist in Rome loudly insisting that it was a must see . I impulsively decided to make the trip based on the vague description the following day. I hadn’t had time to discuss the details with Winnie yet.

The teenager turned and started to drag me toward Win. She laughed softly and asked, “How do you think? I’ve always known exactly where you are.”

Of course she did.

Because I was Win Halliday’s wife — even if I wasn’t sure I wanted to be. And there was no chance he wasn’t tracking me from the moment I left his side.

He controlled things that were way bigger and better than me. He blindly played with people’s lives. I should be just another insignificant bump on his golden pathway, but Win never made me feel that way.

I was supposed to be an accessory he owned, to use as he wanted, to achieve his goal. However, he tried to integrate into my life from the minute I signed the contract agreeing to marry him for two-and-a-half years.

As time went on, it started feeling increasingly like he was the one being owned and manipulated, not me. I wasn’t sure how I ended up with one of the richest men in the world doing his best to work his way into my heart, and I had no clue what to do with him.

We didn’t have any reason to stay married, and there was a literal fortune waiting for me after we went our separate ways.

So why did the idea of leaving this man to decide what he wanted to do with our agreement terrify me to the point I ran to a different continent??

It appeared that the time to answer all the questions between us had finally come.