Something in his tone and the quirk of his brow makes me think he is amused by my admitted weakness when it comes to her.

"It is only because she is beautiful that I have hesitated."

My words aren't convincing, even to me. But I am certain with time, I will be able to fulfill this silent promise to myself. When the moment is right, I will execute the plan as intended.

"Regardless of whether she is scarred yet, I can assure you, she will suffer."

"I'm sure she is already," he muses. "Of that, I have no doubt."

His words settle over us, and we finish off our drinks in silence. I need to ask something of him, which is a part of the purpose of our meeting this afternoon. Ideally, I should have asked him before the wedding, but I was busy dealing with Abel.

"Any news on her father?" he asks.

"No. Nothing new anyway. My men are still investigating, but there has been no new information. I have a meeting with the Tribunal to discuss the progress on the investigation at the beginning of the month."

Judge is quiet and thoughtful before he glances at me with an intensity that makes him a formidable opponent to weaker men than me. "And have you considered that there may never be more information? What then?"

"I have considered it." I shrug. "But I won't accept it."

"Well, that may be the case. But it is about as useful as a man telling Mother Nature he will not accept her storm."

Ignoring his obvious point is the only option I have at this stage. I can't accept that I may never truly have one hundred percent certainty or evidence of Eli's guilt. It is something I have considered from every angle. And I only know the obvious, what I feel deep in my gut. He is responsible, and I refuse to believe otherwise until there is undeniable proof.

"There is another reason I asked you here," I tell Judge. "Apart from the philosophical musings of my revenge."

"I suspected as much." He chuckles.

"I have a request to make." I clear my throat and feel oddly out of place. "I would like to invoke the sacred pact. For my wife, I would like to grant you the customary rite should anything happen to me."

"I trust that nothing will happen to you," Judge answers quietly, "but I accept your grant of the rite to me."

Some of the tension dissolves from my shoulders, and I retrieve an additional portfolio from my drawer, sliding it over to him. "My wishes are all documented there. Every last detail of what should happen to Ivy and her family in my absence."

He nods, eyes drifting to the portrait of my sister on the wall. "I am becoming quite the collector of responsibilities. First Mercedes, and now your wife."