Chapter 50 #2
Her eyes blaze. “I loved your Father and he still chose your Mother.” Her voice cracks. “I hated her for it. I hated you for looking like him. And I hated Selene most of all because she was mine until she looked at you and chose you instead.”
My cold eyes meet hers. “You drugged your daughter because she loved the son of the man you fucked while he had a wife and you had a husband? Is this how you rationalize it? By playing a fucking victim?”
“So, what if I drugged her? I made her forget. I faked my death. I buried her where no one would ever find her and fed her lie after lie until she believed every one of them.”
Her chin lifts. “I gave her to Adrian because he was controllable.”
A bitter laugh tears out of her. “And when she remembered you, when she cried for you every night, I let her. Because I loved knowing that every pain you caused me, I was inflicting on the woman you loved.”
My hands shake, and the beep, beep, beep of the tracker pounds in my ears.
“She was pregnant when you caused that accident.” I don’t even register moving until Hannah’s back slams into the wall. The gun jerks between us as my hand closes around her wrist.
It takes every ounce of restraint in my body not to snap the bone. Every last fucking thread.
Because all I can see, all I can fucking hear is her. Curled on cold marble.
Hands shaking. Those nightmares.
Blood between her thighs. Calling for me.
Screaming my name while this woman stood there and watched. While my child, my child, died before ever taking a breath.
Something tears inside my chest. My vision clouds. Rain mixes with blood on my face. And for one brutal second, I understand why men lose their minds. Why they black out. Why bodies are found in pieces, and no one asks questions.
Because I want to hurt her. I want every scream she ripped from Selene shoved back down her throat.
I want her terrified. Helpless.
Crying.
I want her begging, and I want her to know exactly why mercy never comes for people like her. Why God created men like me to bring justice to this world. Because it needs it. The cleansing act.
“You held her down?” The words scrape out of me.
“She begged for help…” My grip tightens harder.
“And you looked at her.” Hannah sucks in air.
I can barely hear it over the roaring in my ears.
“You watched my wife bleed.” My forehead nearly touches hers.
“You listened to her scream my name.” My lip curls. “And you touched her.”
My shoulder burns as blood keeps spilling, but I don’t feel any of it. Pain is nothing. This… however, is something else.
This is a darkness so deep it feels holy. Like every violent instinct I’ve ever buried has finally been handed permission.
Hannah trembles for the first time since I saw her walking through the gates of our mansion.
I enjoy the fear on her face. Her pulse jumps against my fingers.
I do what any sane man would do: I smile.
“You should pray she never hears every detail.” Her breath catches.
“Because if Selene ever finds out exactly what you did to her,” I lean closer, whisper in her ear, “I won’t have to touch you. ”
My chest rises hard. “She’ll destroy you herself.” The tracker screams in my hand.
Closer. So close.
And beneath the rage, under all of it, there’s grief. A sharp, vicious thing lodged so deep it feels permanent.
I should’ve been there. Should’ve protected her. Should’ve known.
Should’ve burned the world sooner.
Should’ve killed everyone before any of this reached her.
My child.
My wife was forced to carry pain she never deserved.
And this woman standing here, breathing all those years while watching my world crumble from afar.
My hand twitches, and I almost break her wrist.
But Hannah laughs. And every murderous instinct inside me rises higher. Because I know exactly what I want now.
I want Selene safe.
I want her in my arms.
And then, I want every lie Hannah built dragged into the light while she watches it burn.
I want her alive long enough to feel every piece collapse. To see Selene look at her and choose someone else.
To understand what losing everything actually feels like. To know helplessness.
To taste it.
And then, only then, I’ll decide whether death is enough. “You weren’t done with her.”
Her laughter falters at my words. I feel it, the tiny fracture as my thumb digs harder into her wrist. “You had her drugged again, didn’t you?”
Hannah lifts her chin. Trying to gather whatever courage she thinks she has. Trying to put the mask back on.
I tilt my head. “And Vane.” I hold her stare. “You had ties with him long before Selene.” Her eyes flash as I continue. “Years.” My smile widens. “My Father was convenient, but Vane was useful.” She says nothing, which is answer enough. I lean closer as my voice drops.
“So, tell me.” My forehead brushes hers. “What was the plan? Another dose?”
Her jaw clenches.
“You were going to wipe me out of her head again?” Still silence. “Give her back to Vane?” Her breathing sharpens. “Marry her to his dead son?” A muscle jumps in her throat. I laugh under my breath. “Or were you planning something cleaner?” My voice goes quieter. “A coffin this time?”
That does it.
“Shut up.”
“No?”
“Shut up!”
I smile wider. “Come on, Hannah.”