A/N Since ABC heartlessly cancelled Red Widow, I decided to write a conclusion. I might add more chapters depending on reviews. Please R&R. I really hope you enjoy. Feedback is much appriciated!
"Natalie No!" Marta screamed, racing towards her daughter. Natalie turned to face her. Her lips trembled and tears gathered in her eyes. She pointed the gun. And was prepared to shoot.
Her Grandfather hadn't kept his promise. He told her he would kill Schiller and he didn't. She had to take things into her own hands.
"I have to Mom. He killed Dad." She said, turning to Schiller and aiming the gun at him once more.
"No baby," Marta whispered, inching towards her daughter and prying the gun from her hands.
"He didn't. But he helped me find who did."
"Is that true?" Natalie asked, staring at the man who she thought had murdered her father.
"I did not kill your father, Miss Walraven. And if you're done trying to kill me, I'd like to talk to your mother about that very subject."
Natalie sent her mother a panicked look, but Marta smiled and placed a hand on her daughters shoulder.
"Go home Baby. Boris is waiting for you to read to him."
Reluctantly Natalie left her mother and Schiller alone.
"Follow me." He said, turning and heading back into his building. The ride up in the elevator was an intense one. The silence that filled the air was so uncomfortable for both of them, that both had thoughts of fleeing.
After what seemed like forever, they reached his floor.
He walked over to the bar and poured both of them glasses of wine.
"By the looks of it, you know who killed your husband." He said placing the wine glasses on the table in front of the couch. Marta didn't sit. She just stood there trembling.
"A childhood friend... Someone I considered my brother. And all by the bidding of my father."
She couldn't hold the tears back now. Regretting crying in front of him she tried to stop. She had always been so strong. Always.
Schiller moved towards her slowly, and brushed a piece of blonde hair from her face.
"You can cry." He whispered.
"You no longer work for me. You don't have to pretend to be strong anymore."
She let a sob escape her lips as she buried her face in his chest and let him wrap his arms around her.
"Nicholae." She sobbed. He stroked her hair and let her cry.
Love was weakness. His father had always told him so. But this woman had delved into the very depths of his soul. She had touched his heart like no one had before and he couldn't pretend that he didn't care for her. From the very beginning he had been protecting her even when he himself had not realized it.
He, Nicholae Schiller the impenetrable, was in love.
"I'm sorry. For everything. You've been there for me. And even though most of the time you infuriate me, you also infatuate me. My husband was just murdered and I... Nicholae I'm so confused by my feelings for you-"
He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, running his fingers through her blonde hair like he had been imagining doing for weeks now.
"Marta..." He breathed. "Marta. I love you."
She pulled away and stared him, her heart hammering against her rib cage.
"Don't." She said. "Don't play with my emotions Nicholae. I know you. You don't love me... You couldn't".
"And yet I do."
"But what about 'love is weakness' I know you believe that with every ounce of your being."
In a flash he remembered his father's words. "That Petrov woman makes you weak."
He stared into her blue eyes for a moment before speaking.
"Marta, one must have weakness in order to have strength. You gave me a reason to be strong. You made me feel things that I never felt before. You ignited some sort of fire in my heart that made me love you. It made me want to protect you, and not just you but also your family. I tried to convince myself that the reasons I was fighting so hard was because I wanted my merchandise back. I tried to convince myself of that. But eventually I realized...it was because I am in love with you."
~ () ~
"James?" Caterina called, knocking on the door of his home.
"James are you home? I need to talk to you."
She knocked a few times before the door eventually opened. And standing there was not James.
"Eva." She said, recovering from the shock.
"I. Uh. I thought you were in rehab."
"I was. But uh let's just say I got let out early, huh?" She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms.
"Who are you and why are you looking for my husband?"
Cat blushed and grasped her purse a little tighter.
"I'm. I'm Marta Walraven's sister. Cat. Your husband's been working on her case and I needed to talk to him."
Eva seemed to find this excuse acceptable, because she uncrossed her arms.
"We'll you ain't gonna find him here. I kicked him out last night." She said.
"Check back in a week or so. I'm sure he'll come crawling back. He always does."
Cat was about to leave, but she turned back around and looked at Eva.
"James really loves you, you know. He'd do anything for you."
"How would you know?" Eva asked, the anger creeping back into her voice.
"Oh believe me." Cat muttered.
She climbed back into her car, breathing deeply to calm herself.
What was she going to do?
Her heart wanted to be with James. She was falling for him and she knew it. But they were both married and it was wrong. So, so very wrong.
~ () ~
Marta stared at Nicholae. His eyes searched her face.
"I love you too." She whispered. "But things are so complicated right now. What will I tell my children? My sister?"
He wanted to make a snide remark about her sister not being one to judge since she was having an affair with an FBI agent, but he decided against it.
"It will all come together in time. For now, let us just enjoy each others company, hmm?"
She smiled faintly and let him encircle her in his arms.
She awoke the next morning on Nicholae's couch, her head resting on his chest. She looked at her watch. 8:00.
She sat up, panicked and began gathering her things.
Nicholae woke up with a start and stood up. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go. My kids are late for school." She ran a hand through her hair and tried to make herself look presentable.
"I'll drive you home." He said, pulling his jacket on. It was then that she remembered she had walked here.
"Thank you." She said, touching his cheek. They stood there for a moment before he cleared his throat and led her to the elevator.
Forgetting that the Walraven's still held a bit of a grudge against him, he rushed inside the house with Marta.
They were met by Cat washing the breakfast dishes. There were no kids in sight.
"Hey Marta." She said, flashing a sweet smile. "The kids are already at school. I told them you were taking care of some business and you'd be home tonight. I'm guessing you were with him?" She asked, tilting her head towards Schiller.
"I. Uh. Yeah. I went over there... And we talked. It was late and I ended up falling asleep on his couch. " Marta said, examining her red nails.
"I see." Cat replied, turning back to the dishes.
"How is Agent Ramos?" Schiller asked, receiving a withering look from Marta.
Cat'a hand froze in the middle of washing a dish. Slowly she put it down and turned to Schiller.
"That's none of your business."
She dried off her hands on a kitchen towel and started to leave.
"I'll be back later Marta." She called behind her back.
"After your... "Friend" leaves. And Marta, be careful." With that she gave Schiller a look of disgust and left the house.
Eva sat on the couch with James, watching TV as he drifted in and out of sleep. He had come back that night and made dinner, pretending that the massive fight they'd had the night before had never happened.
"James," she said, kissing his face and taking his hand lacing his fingers in hers. "James baby get up. You don't want to sleep on the couch you have work tomorrow. Come to bed."
He groaned and rolled over. "Cat please, sweetheart. I'm too tired to move". He muttered.
Eva dropped his hand and stared at him. Cat. Wasn't that the name of the woman who had come looking for him earlier? Suddenly the pieces fit together.
Her husband was cheating on her. She covered her mouth in shock and began to sob. James didn't love her anymore. She knew this was going to happen. Her addiction drove them apart.
Standing up she made her way to the bathroom. If he found refuge in the arms of another woman, she would find refuge in her heroin.
The next morning James was late for work again. He had discovered Eva doing drugs again, and the morning had been spent arguing about taking her back to rehab. He didn't even want to know what she did to make them let her out early. She wasn't ready. She needed treatment. She needed to go back.
As he walked to his desk and poured himself a cup of coffee he received pitying looks from his coworkers which he tried to ignore. These people had no idea what his life was like. Sometimes he wished he never married Eva. Not sometimes, most of the time. But then he remembered when she had been his Evie. The beautiful, radiant FBI agent that he loved. Back before her injury and her addiction.
He shook his head and sat down in his chair, leafing through some paperwork and sipping his coffee. He caught sight of one paper and picked it up. It was something not related to any case. It was divorce papers.
He sighed. Eva was playing her games with him again. He stared at the papers for a few moments. Normally he would put them away, go back home and apologize to his wife, even though he wasn't the one who was wrong. He passed his hand over his face. Maybe this was his way out. He loved Eva, but he couldn't be married to her anymore. All he did was worry about her. She put him through torture everyday wondering if she had over dosed and was lying dead somewhere.
He sipped his coffee again and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Divorcing her wasn't going to stop him from worrying about her and her heroin addiction, but it would give him a guilt free pass to be with Cat. The guilt he'd been carrying around was almost too much. Everyt ime he looked at her, he was ashamed of what he had done. Her issues didn't allow him to void their vows. But he cared about Cat. He wanted to be with her, but he couldn't continue their relationship while they were both still married.