Chapter 62
Sabine
I’m staringout the rain-slicked window with my arms crossed over my chest. The landscape behind the glass is a distorted prism of bleak colors, swirling together in chaos.
It’s exactly how I feel inside.
Yesterday, the view was pristine. Perfect. Today, everything is still there, but now it’s all running together in blurred confusion, and like the rain, I can’t control it.
Just like that, everything has come tumbling down.
I’m accompanying Astor to “save” his wife. Okay. Do I just wait in the damn car? Then what? What the hell does he think is going to happen when the three of us are together?
How is he going to introduce me to her? Or is he going to introduce me at all? Am I going to be discarded at the nearest bus stop? Because I sure as hell know that he will not discard her. Not with the guilt that plagues him.
For Astor’s demeanor to shift so drastically—in an instant, from declaring his love for me to vowing to save her—shows how much he cares about his wife. To not save Valerie wasn’t even considered. And I’m a total bitch for even thinking that, I know.
Maybe I shouldn’t go. Maybe I should leave now and tell him to call me when it’s all sorted out. Or how about don’t call me at all. After all, he’s married.
Holy shit—he’s married.
I’ve slept with a married man. Told a married man I love him.
I am not Astor’s woman. I am his mistress.
Sabine, the mistress.
I choke on the word when the air around me shifts. All at once, my body jolts to alertness, my senses piquing.
I am not alone.
Before I can turn around, a hand covers my mouth and the tip of a blade presses into my lower back, piercing the skin.
“Not a word,” Prishna hisses in my ear.
She jerks my head, presses the knife deeper into my flesh, and like a bridle on a horse, she guides me out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
My gaze frantically darts for Astor, but I know he’s still in his office, at the opposite end of the house.
Adrenaline surges through my veins.
I thrust my elbow backward, connecting with Prishna’s stomach. She grunts, relaxing her hold just enough for me to lunge forward.
“Astor!” I scream but my throat is too constricted. His name comes out in nothing more than a desperate squeak.
Prishna tackles me from behind, knocking the air out of my lungs.
We tumble to the floor, me at a disadvantage because I fall facedown. I try to twist, try to fight, but she grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my face into the hardwood floor. Fireworks burst behind my eyes. A blinding pain ricochets through my head, followed by a dropping feeling in my stomach.
The prick of a needle barely registers before everything goes black.