CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
BURKE’S POV
“I messed up, and I’m an asshole, but Please, you can’t leave me; fight me when I go wrong, yell at me when I hurt you, but don’t leave Cathie,” I said, still on my knees, because Catherine hasn’t told me to stand up yet.
She looked down at me; her anger had reduced.
“You messed up, Burke. You said my kids and I aren’t family; I won’t forgive that,” She stated, and I knew I had a long way to go in begging her; she’s a hard nut to crack.
I didn’t mean anything I said; my anger takes the better part of me most times, and I hate myself for it, for hurting Catherine.
“Come on, Catherine, you know I didn’t mean it; I’m sorry, I won’t be able to survive if you leave me for another man, Catherine, please,” I pleaded, holding one of her legs.
“Fuck it, stand to your feet,” She said, helping me to my feet.
In my life, I have never thought that I’d be on my knees begging a woman, but Catherine has brought out a different part of me.
“I’ll stay on only one condition,” She said, looking at me sternly, I knew she had something that would hurt me.
“What’s the condition?” I asked, ready to take any chance as long as she didn’t leave for Chicago without the intention of coming back.
“I won’t leave with you in this Mansion,” She said, and I sat on the bed, unable to say a thing.
“Catherine I said I’m sorry,” I reminded her, pretending I didn’t hear her previous request.
“I know that Burke, but I can’t be leaving with you when we aren’t formally married; that’s why you get to disrespect me at times,” She scolded, sitting beside me on the bed.
What she said was not true, though; I would never disrespect Catherine; I was just too angry that she tried to blame my sister for the murder of Jack.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll arrange a conducive house for you and the kids, although I would love it if you stay,” I said and she smiled at me.
“I’ll love that too,” She said, giving me a quick kiss on the lips.
“One more thing, Catherine, I need you to make a promise,” I told her, lifting her chin up, so I could look her in the eyes.
Her big round eyes stared at me in confusion.
“What promise is that?” She asked, confused.
“You must promise not to leave me after a fight. Couples fight a lot, but they get to settle it; that’s what brings them closer,” I replied to her question, making her giggle loudly.
“I promise to talk things out with you when we fight,” She said, raising her pinky finger to my face.
“It’s a pinky promise,” She continued and we intertwined our pinky toward, sealing the promise with a kiss.
I lifted her to my lap as I deepened the kiss, earning a moan from her.
Suddenly the knock at the door distracted us.
“They keep doing this shit,” I complained, breaking the kiss.
“I’ll go get it,” Catherine said, getting off my lap, and walking towards the door.
“Good day Catherine,” I heard Emma’s voice from where I was seated.
“Good day, Emma. Is there a problem?” Catherine asked politely.
“If there isn’t, would I be here?” Emma replied to Catherine’s with a rhetorical question, returning Catherine’s politeness with rudeness. I wanted to get angry but I held my cool, remembering Emma was still grieving.
“I’m sorry, that was a silly question to ask,” Catherine said, after clearing her throat.
“Of course, it was, silly you,” Emma said, pushing Catherine off the doorway and entering my room uninvited.
Emma looked tattered; she had lost more than a pound in less than a month, and her once long hair was now reaching her face, and eye bags were present below her eyes due to lack of sleep or crying too much; she didn’t take Jack’s death lightly.
“Hi Emma, what’s the problem?” I asked as Catherine shut the door; she didn’t look offended by Emma’s rude behavior; Catherine understood she was still in her grieving era.
“Firstly, my husband died in Chicago without saying goodbye, and I got this letter from the killer, who you all claimed to be Harley,” she said, handing a letter over to me.
I collected it and ripped it open, it read;
“Harley didn’t kill her husband, I did. And Catherine knows who I am, do you think she’s my accomplice,”
“How are we certain this is the killer, there is no proof that this person is correct,” I said, laughing sarcastically and giving Catherine the letter.
“Check inside the envelope,” Emma said, resting herself on the wall.
I did as instructed and to my surprise, Ethan’s blond hair was inside, with his pinky finger that was missing when we took his body.
“So you killed my husband,” Emma said, looking at Catherine angrily.
“Of course, I didn’t; this person plans to turn you against your Alpha and implicate me,” Catherine said with confidence, and I knew she didn’t kill him.
“Although I saw Harley in our bedroom when I came to get my jewelry before Burke arrived. She came through the window,”. Catherine said, and I looked at her in surprise.
“She said she wasn’t the killer though, but I asked if it was her accomplice, and she didn’t reply before running off, I couldn’t ring the bell because she ran fast,” she explained further, I believed her except for the last line, which felt like a lie because she won’t be able to run that far, my guards are faster.
“Harley is playing games on us, she wants us against each other, that’s why she sent a letter to Emma and came to Harley,” I said, but Emma wasn’t listening.
“If you aren’t an accomplice, you would have called the guards, rang a bell, made an alarm because she a fucking murderer,” Emma yelled.
“All this time, I thought that is what I would do if I saw Harley, she almost killed my son, But…” Catherine said, without completing her statement.
“But want?” I asked, confused.
“I felt a bond with her,” She said, looking into my eyes.
“Which fucking bond can you feel with a murderer if you aren’t one as well,” Emma retorted, but Catherine ignored her rude comment.
“I feel a family bond,” Catherine replied to her question, leaving us in shock.