His Revenge In My Bed

24. Josie

The sound stopped outside the door, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. For one horrible second, I thought it would be him. I thought I would see those empty blue eyes staring at me from the darkness.

But instead, Aisling stepped inside.

Relief hit me so fast my knees nearly buckled. She wore dark clothes today, soft black pants and a fitted sweater. Her hair was tied back neatly, and her face looked calm as always. Her eyes flicked over me once.

"You're awake," she said simply.

I nodded too quickly, "Yes," I whispered immediately. "Yes, I'm awake."

Aisling closed the door behind herself and walked toward me. The key ring hanging from her fingers jingled softly. I stared at it. My stomach twisted. She crouched beside the chain without saying anything else. The cold metal clicked loudly as she unlocked it from the ring bolted into the wall.

For a second, I just stared. I could move... really move.

Aisling stood again, "Alex wants you downstairs."

I blinked at her, "What?"

"He wants you to eat dinner with us."

Dinner.

My mouth parted slightly, "Oh."

Aisling watched me quietly for a moment, "Well?" she asked flatly. "Come on."

I moved before she could say anything else, "Yes," I blurted quickly, "Okay. I'll-I'll come."

The chain still remained around my ankle, but without the wall holding it, it hung loose and heavy against my leg. I barely noticed the weight anymore.

My thoughts were moving too fast.

Dinner.

He wanted me downstairs.

That had to mean something.

Right?

Maybe he was calmer now.

Maybe this was my chance.

Maybe if I apologized properly-my chest tightened painfully with hope. I followed Aisling out of the room immediately. The mansion was quiet except for the soft sound of my chain dragging behind me.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

I kept my eyes lowered as we moved through the hallways.

What do I say first?

Sorry?

No, that sounded too small.

Thank you for feeding me?

My stomach twisted harder.

No.

No, that sounded insane.

I rubbed my sweaty palms against the soft fabric of my pajama pants. Maybe I should just tell him the truth. Tell him I remembered everything. Tell him I understood now.

Tell him he didn't need to punish me anymore because I finally understood how much he suffered. The thoughts tangled together so badly my head hurt.

"Aisling?" I whispered suddenly.

She didn't stop walking, "What?"

I swallowed hard, "Is he..." my voice shook. "Is he angry?"

Aisling glanced at me once over her shoulder, "When is he not angry?"

I stayed quiet after that. We walked down the giant staircase slowly. The shadows stretched long across the marble floors. Lamps glowed softly against black stone walls. The closer we got to the dining room, the stronger the smell became.

Food.

Something rich and savory that made my stomach clench painfully. I hadn't realized how starving I truly was until that moment.

My mouth watered instantly. Humiliation burned through me just as fast. I followed Aisling into the dining room and stopped.

Alexander was already sitting there.

He sat at the head of the table in a black button-down shirt, one arm resting lazily against the armrest of his chair. The warm lighting softened nothing about him.

His eyes lifted slowly toward me. I immediately looked down.

My pulse started racing again. The table between us was covered in food.

Steam curled from roasted meat glazed in butter and herbs.

Bowls of potatoes. Fresh bread still warm enough for the butter beside it to melt.

Bright vegetables. Thick creamy pasta. A plate of sliced fruit.

The smell hit me so hard my knees felt weak.

My stomach cramped painfully. I couldn't stop staring.

Aisling pulled out a chair near the middle of the table.

"Sit," she said.

I moved toward it automatically, my chain softly dragging across the marble floor. My hands trembled as I sat down. The chair felt too soft beneath me. I kept my eyes lowered toward the table because I didn't know where else to look.

The food sat right in front of me. Close enough to touch but I didn't dare move without permission.

I looked up carefully. Alexander was already watching me. Heat rushed into my face and I lowered my eyes again.

"Thank you," I whispered quickly.

My voice sounded scratchy from crying earlier. I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep going.

"Thank you for... this."

I glanced at the table again.

"The food," I added softly. "And the clothes. And the blanket."

The words stumbled out awkwardly. Humiliation burned through me with every sentence, but I couldn't stop. I needed him to understand I wasn't going to fight anymore.

I needed him calm, needed him reasonable, needed him human, if I wanted to leave this place alive. My hands twisted together tightly under the table.

"I know I don't deserve it," I whispered, "I remembered."

Aisling glanced between us once before calmly reaching for her wine glass.

My throat tightened, "The shed. The cage."

Saying the words out loud made nausea twist through my stomach again.

"I remember what I did to you."

The shame hit so hard I had to look down at my lap again. My fingers were trembling badly now.

"I didn't know," I rushed out quickly. "I mean-I knew what I was doing but I didn't understand it. I was little and my mother-"

I stopped to swallow hard.

"She made it feel normal," I looked at him again desperately, "But I know now," I whispered. "I understand now."

Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair. His face looked almost empty. That frightened me more than anger would have. I pushed forward anyway.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, "I'm so sorry. I think about it now and I-I feel sick. I can still hear you... crying. I didn't remember before. I swear I didn't. They told me none of it was real and I believed them."

I wiped quickly at my eyes before the tears could fully fall.

"I would never do that now," I said quickly, "Never. I'm not her."

The second the words left my mouth, guilt twisted through me because part of me was her.

That was the horrible part.

I looked down at the table again because I couldn't bear his eyes anymore.

"I know you probably hate me," I whispered.

Alexander finally moved. Slowly, he reached for his glass. The ice inside clinked softly as he lifted it.

"I don't hate you, Josephine," he said calmly before taking a sip.

The words should have comforted me. Instead they made coldness spread through my chest. Because he said it so easily like hate would require too much energy.

"I just..." My voice shook again. "I just want this to stop."

There.

The truth.

I gripped the edge of the chair tighter.

"I can't do this anymore."

The room blurred slightly through my tears.

"I know I hurt you," I whispered. "I know I can't take it back. I know sorry probably means nothing to you but I am sorry."

Alexander set his glass down carefully. The soft click against the table sounded too loud in the quiet room. I watched his hands.

"I'll do whatever you want," I said quickly.

Aisling's eyes lifted slightly at that.

"I mean it," I rushed on, "If you want money, I'll give it to you. If you want me to testify against my mother, I will. If you want me gone forever, I'll disappear."

My breathing started getting uneven again.

"But please," I whispered, "Please don't keep me here. I can't breathe in this house anymore."

A tear slipped down my cheek, then another as I looked at him through blurred vision.

"You said you don't want to hurt me," I whispered weakly. "So please... please don't do this anymore."

Alexander's face remained unreadable. He looked at me for so long that my skin started feeling too tight. Then finally, his gaze dropped briefly toward the plate in front of me.

"You should eat before it gets cold," he said quietly.

That was all.

Eat before it gets cold.

My throat tightened painfully. I stared at him for another second, waiting for more words that never came. Then slowly, shakily, I reached for the bread.

It was still warm. The butter melted instantly when I spread it across the soft center, soaking into the bread until it glistened under the chandelier light.

I stared at it for a second too long. Something about it almost made me cry again. Normal people ate dinner like this every day. Normal people sat at tables under warm lights and reached for bread without fear sitting in their stomachs like poison.

My throat tightened. I lifted the bread slowly and took a bite. The taste hit me instantly. A broken sound almost left my throat. I lowered the bread quickly and pressed my lips together hard.

Don't cry.

Don't cry over bread.

But my body betrayed me anyway.

My stomach cramped with hunger the second food touched it. I took another bite too fast, then another, almost embarrassed by how desperate I suddenly felt.

I could feel Alexander watching me from across the table. Heat crawled up my neck but I tried to slow down.

I reached shakily for the potatoes next, scooping a small amount onto my plate. The smell alone made my mouth water painfully. Butter. Garlic. Rosemary.

I ate carefully at first, then less carefully. My body had stopped listening to pride. Every bite made the ache in my stomach ease just a little more. Warmth slowly spread through me for the first time in days, and somehow that only made the tears worse.

Because kindness felt cruel now.

The food tasted too good inside a house where I wore chains. A tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it. I lowered my head quickly, chewing hard while more tears blurred my vision.

The fork trembled in my hand.

I hated this.

I hated eating in front of them like this.

Starving enough to feel grateful.

Weak enough to cry over potatoes.

I wiped at my face quickly with the sleeve of my shirt.

"I'm sorry," I whispered hoarsely, though I didn't even know what I was apologizing for anymore.

For crying.

For eating too fast.

For existing.

Aisling ate calmly beside me like this was any normal dinner. Alexander barely touched his plate. I could feel him looking at me most of the time. Every time I noticed, my stomach tightened again. I forced myself to keep eating anyway because I knew better now.

Food could disappear.

Warmth could disappear.

Privileges.

That was the word he used.

Privileges could be taken away.

I swallowed another bite slowly.

Then another.

The knot in my chest loosened just enough for thoughts to start creeping back in.

Ugly thoughts.

Confusing thoughts.

I stared down at my plate.

Van Alen.

The name echoed strangely in my head now. My fork slowly lowered onto the plate. My appetite faded all at once. I stared at the tablecloth while my chest started tightening again.

Who was I?

The question had been growing quietly inside me since the memory came back. It sat there like something rotten. I swallowed hard and finally looked up.

Alexander's eyes met mine immediately like he had been waiting for it.

My voice came out small, "Who am I?"

The words hung awkwardly in the room. Aisling glanced toward me briefly. My fingers curled tightly around the fork.

"You said..." I swallowed again. "You said I'm not your sister. You said I'm not a Van Alen."

The words made my chest ache.

I shook my head slightly, "Then who am I?"

Nobody answered immediately. The silence stretched long enough to hurt. I looked down again, staring blindly at my untouched food.

"My whole life..." I whispered weakly, "everything was built around that name."

Van Alen.

Money.

Legacy.

Power.

Mother's voice.

A Van Alen doesn't beg.

A Van Alen takes.

The chain around my ankle suddenly felt colder.

"None of it was real?" I whispered.

My eyes burned again.

"I don't even know what parts of my life are true anymore."

The words started spilling out again before I could stop them.

"I thought I knew who my father was. I thought I knew why my mother hated me sometimes and loved me other times. I thought I knew why people looked at me the way they did."

I laughed once softly, the sound came out broken.

"But now..." I shook my head, "Now I feel like I was dropped into somebody else's life."

Alexander's expression flickered slightly at that, barely noticeable but I saw it. I leaned forward a little without realizing it.

"So tell me," I whispered desperately, "Please. Who am I really?"

Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair. His gaze stayed fixed on me. And for the first time since entering the room, something almost human moved through his face. He stared at me for so long that my heartbeat became loud in my own ears.

"Matthias Nicholson," he said quietly. "Does that name mean anything to you?"

The blood drained from my face so fast it made me dizzy. My fingers tightened around the fork.

"What?" I whispered.

Alexander didn't look away from me, "Matthias Nicholson," he repeated, "... is your father."

The room tilted.

"No," I breathed immediately, shaking my head, "No, my father was Thomas Van Alen."

He narrowed his eyes at me but there was this certain dark amusement in his eyes that chilled me to the bone, "Thomas Van Alen was my father, Josephine."

I stared at him. My chest stopped moving for a second. Aisling lowered her glass slowly onto the table. I looked back at Alexander, waiting for him to laugh. Waiting for him to say this was another game. Another punishment but he didn't smile.

And suddenly I couldn't breathe properly anymore because deep down, some horrible part of me already knew he was telling the truth.

How were you even supposed to react to something like this?

How do you sit there calmly while someone rips your entire life apart sentence by sentence?

"Your real name," he said calmly, "is Josephine Nicholson."

Something inside me cracked. Actually cracked. Because the second he said it, the name didn't feel wrong. It felt buried and forgotten. It was like hearing a song you haven't heard since childhood and somehow still knowing every word.

Tears burned instantly behind my eyes. After years of being Josephine Van Alen. After years of mourning Thomas Van Alen like he was my father. My brain refused to accept it. So I shook my head harder, "No," I whispered again. "No, no-That's not true."

"It is."

I gripped the edge of the table hard enough to hurt my fingers.

"Your mother was with Matthias first," Alexander continued, "Long before my father. They were together for years. She got pregnant with you. You were Josephine Nicholson before you were anything else."

A sob caught in my throat so suddenly it hurt, "No..."

But memories were already slipping through the cracks now.

Little things. Matthias lifting me onto his shoulders.

Matthias teaching me how to tie my shoes.

Matthias kissing my forehead while my mother screamed somewhere upstairs.

I remembered calling him Dad once and I remembered Helena slapping me so hard my ears rang.

My chest caved inward, "Oh my God..."

I pressed both hands against my mouth, shaking violently now. My shoulders started shaking harder and harder.

Everything felt fake. My childhood. My name. My face. I looked down at my trembling hands like they belonged to someone else. After a long time, I dragged shaking hands away from my face.

"Why?" I whispered weakly.

Alexander's jaw tightened slightly, "Because your mother wanted more," he said flatly. "More money. More power. More status. Matthias couldn't give her any of that. But Thomas Van Alen could."

Fresh horror spread through me. I shook my head slowly, "I don't understand..."

"But you have to," he replied.

"So she just... What? Pretended my father didn't exist?"

I felt sick.

Actually sick.

I pressed a trembling hand against my mouth, staring blindly at the tablecloth while my whole world twisted into something ugly and unfamiliar.

All those years.

All those lessons.

All those stupid rules about legacy and blood and carrying the Van Alen name with pride, none of it was even mine. A broken laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. It sounded awful. Tears spilled faster down my cheeks.

"I'm not even a Van Alen," I whispered.

The sentence shattered something inside me. I started crying harder immediately. I wiped at my face quickly, embarrassed, but it didn't help. More tears kept coming anyway.

I sat there bent over the table, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest while my whole identity collapsed around me. Nobody spoke, not Aisling, not Zane.

The room stayed painfully quiet except for the sound of my broken breathing and the occasional soft clink of silverware shifting when my trembling hands brushed the table.

I didn't even know how long I stayed like that.

Then finally, through the mess of tears and shaking breaths, I whispered, "Thank you."

Alexander blinked once. I looked at him through wet lashes.

"For telling me," I whispered shakily, "Even if it hurts. Even after... everything."

The shed flashed through my head again. The cage. The stick. I looked away immediately.

"I didn't deserve for you to tell me the truth after what I did to you."

Alexander's expression hardened slightly, "You were five."

"I still did it."

"You were raised inside a sick house."

"I still hurt you."

The words came out louder this time because that was the part nobody could undo. I dragged a shaky breath into my lungs and stared down at my hands.

"I keep remembering things," I admitted quietly. "Little pieces. And every time I do, I feel worse. I don't even know what memories are real anymore. I don't know what parts of me are actually mine and what parts came from my therapist."

Then Alexander spoke again, calmer this time, "As I said... you were a child."

I looked back at him. At the man sitting across from me carrying scars I helped put there. Hope started building inside my chest before I could stop it.

"Would you ever forgive me?" I asked softly, "For all of it. For what I did to you back then."

Aisling's eyes lifted briefly from beside us. Alexander glanced toward her for half a second before looking back at me.

His face looked unreadable again, "There's nothing to forgive."

The words hit me strangely because he said them like the damage was already too old to matter anymore. I swallowed hard, trying to understand him, trying to understand this entire nightmare.

"Then why won't you let me go?" I whispered.

"I can't do that, Josephine. You are here to stay... maybe for the rest of your life."

For a second, I genuinely thought I had stopped hearing properly.

The room went strangely muffled around me, like I had been shoved underwater.

Rest of your life. The words kept bouncing around inside my skull over and over again until they stopped sounding real.

My stomach twisted so hard it hurt. I was five years old.

Five. I had been a stupid little girl following her mother around like she hung the moon, and he was going to bury me alive for it.

Something dark started spreading through my chest then.

It was not fear this time, not guilt, it was something far uglier.

He sat there talking calmly while my entire life burned down around me.

He had chained me up, starved me, humiliated me, made me crawl across floors like an animal, and now he was telling me I would die here like it was a completely normal thing to say over dinner.

I hated him.

The realization hit me so suddenly my breathing turned shaky.

I hated the way he looked at me. I hated his voice.

I hated the way he kept acting gentle after destroying me.

Every horrible thing in my life had started the moment he walked into it.

Before him, I had a name, a future, friends, sunlight, freedom.

Now all I had were chains and locked doors and nightmares that never seemed to end.

My eyes drifted downward without meaning to.

Toward the center of the table.

Toward the long carving knife resting beside the turkey. The silver gleamed under the chandelier light.

Slowly, my gaze lifted back to Alexander.

My breathing became shallow.

Aisling noticed first. I saw her eyes narrow slightly from across the table, her fingers tightening around her wine glass, but she didn't say anything. Neither of them moved. The room felt painfully still.

I pushed my chair back slowly.

The legs scraped softly against the floor.

The chain around my ankle clinked as I stood up on weak legs. My body felt hollow, like there was nothing left inside me except panic and exhaustion and this horrible growing hatred clawing up my throat.

Maybe I could still fix this.

Maybe if I begged enough.

Maybe if I apologized enough.

Maybe if I became small enough.

Alexander watched me carefully as I walked around the table. My knees were shaking so badly I almost stumbled over the chain.

Then I dropped suddenly onto my knees beside his chair.

The impact shot painfully through my bones.

"Please," I sobbed immediately. I grabbed his arm with both hands, "Please don't do this to me. I can't stay here," I cried. "Please, Zane, please-"

He exhaled slowly, "Josephine-"

"I'll do anything," I choked out desperately, "Anything you want. I'll disappear forever. I'll never tell anyone about this. I swear. Please let me go..."

His face tightened slightly for the first time that night, "Josephine..."

I shook my head violently, "Please..."

"I'm not going to hurt you anymore," he added softly, "You're not the person I'm mad at."

The words made me freeze. Then why? Why are you keeping me here, you psycho piece of shit! Slowly, I looked up at him through tears.

"I mean it," he said softly, "No more chains inside the house. No more starving you. None of it.

My chest shook with sobs, "Then let me leave," I whispered.

Pain flickered across his face but was gone so fast I almost convinced myself I imagined it, "I can't. I can't let you go," he repeated quietly, "I'm sorry..."

Fresh panic clawed up my throat instantly, I grabbed his hand desperately, "No- Please-"

"Get up," he murmured gently, "Josephine-"

"No!"

I was crying so hard I could barely see anymore, "I can't live like this!"

"You'll adjust."

The words hit me hard. Adjust. Fucking adjust?! Like this was a life?! Like this was survivable?! My eyes flicked toward the knife again, then back to him, then the knife.

Alexander was still reaching toward me carefully, trying to pull me upright, "Come on," he said quietly. "Get off the floor."

Suddenly, I moved fast. I lunged across the table. Aisling shouted something. My fingers wrapped around the knife handle.

Alexander's eyes widened for the first time, "Josephine-"

I screamed and drove the knife straight into his heart.