Shattered Vows (Midnight Manor Book 2)

Chapter 7

Seven

“You look like the eggs said something to piss you off.”

I glance beside me at Sid. He’s enjoying his fruit, as always, at breakfast.

“Fuck off.” I dig my fork into the eggs and shovel a heap into my mouth.

“It’s not the eggs. It’s Rapsody’s fiancé. He had me look into him yesterday,” Nero says from the other side of the table.

He’s right. I did some digging on Rapsody’s fiancé. In actuality, my youngest brother and computer nerd, Nero, did some digging.

Seems Alistair Lewis is a church-going man who got good grades throughout high school and college and now works as an accountant. He has no criminal history, not even a speeding ticket. He volunteers every week at the local food bank and donates ten percent of his annual salary to the church and various non-profits.

No wonder Rapsody wanted to marry him—he’s a fucking saint.

“You don’t say.” Sid leans back in his seat and studies me in my peripheral vision.

Asher and Anabelle didn’t grace us with their presence at breakfast this morning. They’re likely still in bed fucking each other’s brains out like the nymphos they are now.

“Do tell?” Sid asks Nero.

I block them out while Nero fills him in. I don’t want to think about Rapsody’s fiancé. Don’t want to think about how she abandoned me the day of our wedding and yet seemed ready to marry some other guy. Don’t want to think about how Alistair is the kind of guy who deserves someone like Rapsody, even if she is a deceitful liar.

After Nero finishes, Sid settles his gaze on me. “What’s your plan then?”

He’s right, of course. It’s been days, and though I’m usually always the one with a plan—hell, I usually have a plan, a contingency plan, and then a back-up plan in case all else fails—I’m no closer to deciding what to do with her than I was yesterday.

Stealing her from her wedding proved to be less fulfilling than I expected. I don’t know why. I should be relishing the fact that she’s miserable and crying up in that tower, but I’m not.

A flash of her legs in that tiny towel she wore after her shower flits through my brain. I’d be a liar if I tried to deny the punch of lust that hit my gut when I opened that door, but I quickly shut it down. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going to allow her to have that power over me ever again. There’s no chance my feelings never waned. I’ve spent the past four years cursing the fact that she was ever born.

Maybe I’m unsatisfied because I haven’t dug in deep enough. Maybe I have to wholly ruin her, make her feel what I did before. Then it will feel like enough.

“Well? What are you going to do?” Sid prods.

It’s then that an idea hits me with complete clarity. And I know what I have to do.

“I’m going to go all in.”

Nero’s forehead wrinkles. “What the hell does that mean?”

A slow smirk spreads across my face. “Not for you two to worry about.”

I’m going to make sure she falls in love with me. I’m going to ruin her. Then I’m going to toss her aside and out of my life.

Sid chuckles beside me. “Good luck.”

After I assemblea breakfast plate for Rapsody, I head back to the north wing and tower. As always when I enter, Rapsody is in her bed, facing the glass doors. She doesn’t react to the sound of me moving through the room.

After I place the breakfast tray on the only table in the room, I stride over to the bed and haul back the covers. Her head whips in my direction, eyes narrowed, but she says nothing.

“C’mon, you have to eat.” I nod toward the table in front of the fireplace. “And we have to talk.”

A faint glimmer of hope lights her eyes. Perfect. I barely have to do anything.

If she had no hope, I’d have nothing to destroy, but if I water that hope and let it grow, I’ll have the sweetest pleasure of ripping it all away in one fell swoop. Then I’ll stare down at the devastation left in the aftermath.

I force my voice to soften. “Let’s go, Rapsody. You can’t just waste away.”

She dramatically shifts into a seated position and crawls out of bed. I step back and sit in the same spot I did yesterday.

“Why are you being… nice?” she asks, removing the metal dome from over the plate and setting it aside.

It’s clear nice wasn’t the adjective she wanted to use but chose it anyway. She’s right to be wary. I’m going to have to move slowly so as not to raise her suspicions.

I blow out a breath. “I’m not being nice. I’m being practical. I can’t keep you here forever, despite what you might fear.”

She looks at me cautiously. “Why are you keeping me here at all?”

There’s a plea in her voice that makes my chest tighten, but I shut that shit down and answer her question honestly. “Because we were supposed to be married, and you left me on our wedding day without an explanation, and you disappeared. You made me think that you loved me and wanted to spend your life with me.” I let some of the anger and betrayal seep into my voice.

Her gaze falls to the plate of food, but she says nothing.

I remember the first time I saw her in that hospital cafeteria. She was like a beaming ray of sunshine. It was as if the world knew that, because the light coming through the window glistened against her long blonde hair. She glowed from the inside out, so when that empty water bottle rolled my way, it was the opening I needed.

I didn’t woo women. When I was enlisted, I got laid as the opportunity arose, but I’ve never been drawn to anyone like I was with Rapsody. After only a few minutes of conversation, it was obvious how sweet and sheltered she was. Something about her innocence drew me in, and not because I wanted to destroy it, but because I wanted to preserve it. But she’d played me for the fool. And now she’ll end up as the fool.

“Why did you do it, Rapsody?”

She says nothing, staring at her plate.

Anger boils inside me. After all these years, she doesn’t even deem me worthy enough to know the truth about why she ran out on me?

“Why?” I slam my hand on the table, and she flinches. “Was it just a ploy to get at my money, and then you couldn’t go through with it? Are you just a cruel, heartless bitch who gets off on ruining people’s lives? Are you a con artist? Were you sent from one of my family’s enemies to try to bring me down? Why did you pretend to love me?” The last question slips out, and I hate the desperation in my tone.

She bolts up from the chair. “I loved you! I didn’t pretend anything. You’re the liar!”

I bite back my grin. Finally, she speaks.