Piper
Being in London had been a nightmare.
I hate this city.
It holds too many unpleasant memories, so many that at some point they drowned out the good ones until those disappeared altogether.
But sitting in this hospital room beside my unconscious friend somehow makes it even worse.
Ophelia had a car accident.
And now she’s in a coma.
My throat tightens as silent tears fall down my cheeks, and Hunter’s hand finds mine and squeezes gently.
He hasn’t stopped touching me since we arrived.
Small gestures of comfort that I don’t quite know what to do with.
I don’t even know why he’s here.
I understand why Adelaide, Eleanor, Octavia and I are here.
But the men from the Ferrum Syndicate?
That part surprises me.
Then again, Arlo hasn’t left Ophelia’s bedside for a second.
And the way he looks at her...
It’s as if she’s the only person left on this planet.
He looks terrible too.
His usual composed demeanour is nowhere to be found, and for perhaps the first time since I’ve known him, he looks, distressed.
And I suppose I understand Milo’s presence as well.
That man is permanently attached to Octavia, as though she holds his entire world together.
But Hunter shouldn’t be here for me.
Not after everything.
Now more than ever, we should be keeping our distance.
But he seems determined to make sure I get a divorce, kill my husband, find the person who hurt me, and somehow give us the happy ending he believes we’re meant to have.
But that’s an illusion.
It isn’t possible.
His obsession with me won’t last.
Especially not when he believes I’m a cheat and a dozen other horrible things.
He’ll resent me for the rest of our lives, even if he doesn’t realise it yet.
Isaak stands beside Adelaide, and when I look at the distant expression on Eleanor’s face, I notice Ido behind her.
Ido Reinford.
The missing fifth member of the Ferrum Syndicate.
The moment Eleanor returned, he seemed to appear out of nowhere as well.
The man is impossible to read. You’d think he was a robot.
His face rarely betrays a single emotion.
The only crack appears when he looks at Eleanor.
There’s wonder in his eyes, longing too, but also confusion, as if he can’t quite make sense of her and yet can’t look away either.
He hasn’t looked in anyone else’s direction once since he arrived.
My phone continues to vibrate inside my bag by my feet, but I ignore it.
I was supposed to be home yesterday.
Instead, I’m still here.
I can’t bring myself to leave Ophelia’s side.
But sooner or later, I’ll have to.
I can’t avoid my own reality forever.
Ophelia is stable, and I know she’ll pull through this. She’s the strongest and most compassionate person I know.
She doesn’t deserve any of this.
After I fainted a few days ago, Hunter barely left my side.
The problem was that he was too close.
I was terrified he would discover things he wasn’t supposed to, so I spent most of my time asleep or pretending to be, with my back turned to him.
The man ran hot and cold to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore.
One moment he was worried.
The next he was almost gentle.
Then he would remember he hated me, and the cold would return, along with words that somehow managed to break my heart even more.
Which they had no right to do.
I deserve it.
I should never have slept with him that first night, and I definitely shouldn’t have kept repeating the mistake until I fell into an abyss that’s become impossible to climb out of.
Eventually, I made him leave.
And somehow that hurt even more.
Which again, had no right.
No right at all.
Before he left, he threatened me, kissed the life out of me, and promised he’d deliver the person who’s hurting me on a spike.
I stay a few more hours, and when the constant buzzing of my phone becomes impossible to ignore, I press a kiss to Ophelia’s cheek and leave the room after making Octavia promise to keep me updated.
I barely make it two steps into the corridor before a hand closes around my arm and stops me short.
My breath catches.
Slowly, I turn my head.
And meet Hunter’s amber eyes.
“Hunter.”
He looks at me, too many emotions warring over his face.
“Are you going to him?”
I swallow.
The question is delivered without emotion, and that should reassure me.
Instead, it does the opposite.
Because beneath that calm exterior, I can see the threat.
The madness he doesn’t bother hide.
“You know I have to.”
“Do I?”
He takes a step closer.
Then another.
His hand closes around my throat.
“Do I?”
“We’re impossible, and you know it.”
His grip tightens slightly.
“We were doomed from the beginning.”
“I won’t allow it. I won’t allow him to have you. You don’t love him, which means you’re trapped in a loveless marriage. You should be glad to get rid of him.”
He holds my eyes.
“Or did you lie about that too?”
When I don’t answer, his grip tightens.
“Did you lie? Do you actually love your husband and you’re just a cheat who can’t keep herself from climbing into another man’s bed?”
His words hurt.
But I suppose that’s the picture I’ve painted of myself for him.
And he’s not entirely wrong.
I have been unfaithful to my husband.
A storm brews behind Hunter’s eyes.
“Am I your only affair, or are there more?”
My stomach twists.
“Answer me,” he demands.
I stay quiet, and whatever control Hunter had left seems to vanish into the depths of the Thames.
He’s seething now.
Absolutely furious.
His mouth claims mine, and even though every sensible part of me screams that we’re standing in the middle of a busy London hospital rather than hidden away on Elaris Isle, I can’t bring myself to stop it.
When it comes to this man, self-preservation seems to abandon me entirely.
I keep making the same mistakes.
Over and over again.
His kiss is all anger, frustration and desperation, and I hate myself for how quickly I melt into it.
His cologne floods my senses, and the scrape of his stubble only makes me more aware of him.
“You are mine.” Bite. “This cunt is mine,” he growls as his hand cups my pussy.
That finally makes me shove him away.
He looks furious, turned on and deeply hurt all at the same time.
I look around, my cheeks so hot I can feel them burning.
The knot in my chest loosens when I realise the corridor is empty.
Arlo must have cleared this entire hospital wing.
Thank God.
Only a few nurses remain, and they’re all suddenly very interested in their paperwork.
I look back at Hunter, and I swear my heart breaks a little more.
The hurt on his face, the betrayal.
I thought my heart had already shattered beyond repair, but it seems even broken pieces can break again.
Shocking.
Really.
“Goodbye, Hunter.”
He narrows his eyes. “Have lunch with me.”
I swear, the man gives me a kind of mental whiplash.
I shake my head, attempting to form some semblance of a reply, but he speaks over me.
“If that gave the impression of a question, allow me to correct it. It was not. I am not asking, but rather demanding.”
“Hunter.”
“Have lunch with me, or I’ll bulldoze my way into your father’s house and find out who’s hurting you. I’ll find out who this husband of yours is, and if he refuses to talk, I’m not above destroying his empire or smashing his head in until he does.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, anger rising in my chest.
“Don’t call my bluff, Miss Ashthorne.” His eyes darken. “Or should I say Mrs Ashthorne?”
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be. You have to let me go.”
“That’s never going to happen. Sorry to disappoint.”
He takes another step towards me.
He brushes my hair over my shoulder before bending closer.
“Let me tell you how this is going to go. We’re going to have lunch like two civilised adults, and you’re going to start talking.
You’re going to give me more details. You’re going to tell me who’s hurting you and whether it’s your husband.
You’re going to give me names. Then I’ll deal with it.
I’ll erase them from your life, ban them from the country, do whatever I see fit.
And when it’s over, I’ll put my ring on your finger. Because you’re fucking mine.”
“I thought you said you weren’t capable of love. That relationships weren’t for you, and that marriage, children and everything that comes with them held no appeal whatsoever.”
“I’m not. And don’t fool yourself into believing that’s changed. But you’re mine. We don’t need feelings. We certainly don’t need love. People marry for that nonsense every day and look where it gets them. This is much simpler. You. Are. Mine.”
“And if I say no?”
“You won’t.” His expression doesn’t change.
“I’ll uncover your secrets regardless. The only difference is whether you choose to make this easy on yourself or force my hand.
I’m offering you a courtesy, Piper. One I rarely extend.
Refuse it, and the next time we have this conversation, it’ll be at your father’s funeral. ”
I jab a finger into his chest.
“Do not,” jab, “threaten my father,” jab, “ever again.”
He takes my hand and doesn’t let go as he turns and heads towards the exit, leaving me little choice but to follow.
He presses the button for the lift, and more than a few nurses openly stare at him as we step inside before making our way to the car already waiting outside.
Of course.
This is his territory.
People here treat Mr Wardgrave as though he belongs to the royal family.
I’m telling you, he doesn’t.
All I can do is hope my husband never finds out about this and decides once and for all that I’m not worth the trouble.
I can already picture the headlines.
Piper Ashthorne Pronounced Dead at the Scene. Authorities Suspect Domestic Dispute.
A bitter laugh almost escapes me.
Because that’s not what the headlines would say at all.
Not with my husband’s influence.
No.
They’d read something more like…
Piper Ashthorne Tragically Takes Her Own Life. Husband Discovers Heartbreaking Letter.
The grieving husband would receive sympathy, condolences. And nobody would question the bruises covering my body.
And if someone did, enough money would change hands for them to call it suicide anyway.