Chapter 11
Maya
One text is all it takes to completely shred any hope that I had actually crawled out alive from Graham’s cobweb.
A single sentence from his number:
“Valeria is not doing well.”
Inside my mind, a horde of demons immediately starts fighting.
Not doing well as in what?
What the fuck does “not doing well” mean when it comes to my sister?
The second my dishwasher shift ends, I sprint back to the motel to wash off.
I’m moving so fast that I trip over the frayed carpet in the hallway.
My knee cracks against the floorboards, and I find myself curled on the ground, screeching and blowing on the scraped skin before I can force myself to stand and move on.
I stuff all my valuables—my remaining cash, my paperwork—into my bag. I don’t trust that my things won’t be stolen if I don’t make it back tonight.
Or worse...
If he doesn’t let me leave.
Fuck.
Everything I do seems to be the wrong choice. I tried my absolute best to amend my mistakes with Valeria. I tried to do the right thing by disappearing completely from her life to give her peace.
But it seems like no matter what path I choose, it is never the correct one.
I shouldn’t have even been born.
Valeria probably wouldn’t have turned out like this. She would be sweeter. Successful on her own, without needing a man like Graham.
I hand the cab driver my cash, wincing at how much I just dropped on the ride. I could have walked, but the estate is nearly four hours away on foot. Time is of the essence when Valeria “isn’t doing well.”
My feet instantly stall at the entrance of the mansion. The iron gates are already swinging open for me before I can even knock.
I am walking straight back into Graham.
Graham, who seems to pull me into his gravity every single time through something as simple, as deceptive, as treating me like I am something precious.
My sister’s husband.
And Valeria...
I am walking right back into the house she screamed at me to leave.
But God, I’m worried about her.
At the end of the day, she is still my sister.
My sister who should have confronted me with her issues years ago, before they were left to fester in her heart like an open, rotting wound that constantly leaked pus.
I try to steel myself against the panic, and walk inside.
Standing right at the massive front doors of the mansion is Graham.
His jet-black hair, which he usually keeps perfectly gelled back, is wild. His black eyes appear even darker than usual—like two pools of eternal, bottomless darkness. Like the open, waiting mouth of a predatory spider. And I have just walked right into the center of his web.
The very second I get close enough to touch, his hand wraps roughly around the back of my head. His fingers twist into my hair, using it to plaster my entire body against the hard planes of his.
His lips come crashing down on mine.
Fuck.
He tastes like expensive cigars, dark whiskey, and pure sex. Despite the shame burning my throat, my eyes reflexively close for a second. My tongue tangles with his. This is exactly why I never wanted to come back here.
Come on, Maya. You’re better than this. Stop it.
I slam my palms flat against his chest, trying to push his massive frame away, but it’s like trying to move a wall. He doesn’t budge a millimeter.
I wrench my face to the side, breaking off the kiss.
A wet string of saliva keeps us connected in the space between our lips.
Graham tightens his hold on the roots of my hair, yanking my head back. He forces my face right back up to his. His eyes are unhinged as he hovers inches from my mouth.
God almighty, please help me. Please. I am not strong enough for any of this.
Finally, as if answering my silent prayer, he pulls his lips away from mine, though his fingers remain locked in my hair.
We are both panting.
He tilts his face slightly to the side and lets out a clicking tut of his tongue against his teeth.
“There’s no escape for you in this lifetime, Maya,” he whispers. “Nor the next. Nor the next.”
I choose to completely ignore his words.
But inside my stomach, an awful cocktail of good and bad feelings twists.
“What’s wrong with Valeria?” I gasp out.
Graham’s brows instantly furrow.
“So that’s the only reason you’re here, Maya? Valeria?”
Definitely. Yes.
I didn’t want to come here for him. I don’t want to see him. Because every single time I look at him, something filthy happens inside my body.
My panties get wet.
“What else do I have here but Valeria?”
He uses the leash of my hair to jerk my head forward.
“We both know that’s not true,” he murmurs against my skin.
I bite my lip until it bleeds.
What the fuck does he actually mean by that?
What in this mansion could possibly belong to me?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Even Valeria isn’t truly mine. Our DNA says we are sisters, but she despises the very air I breathe.
Graham’s thumb moves from my brow down to my jawline. It makes me shiver.
“Still confused, Maya?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sigh.
Graham bares his teeth.
“Me, Maya.”
His nose drags along the skin of my cheek, sliding into the crook of my neck. He takes a deep breath, sniffing my skin like an animal, inhaling my cheap soap.
What the actual fuck is happening right now?
This isn’t like anything that has happened between us before.
“No...” I whimper.
I finally manage to gather every ounce of my remaining strength and push him away.
“I’d like to see my sister, please,” I mumble.
The veins in Graham’s neck pull tight beneath his tanned skin. He swings the massive front doors of the mansion wide open.
The entire place is in absolute ruins.
Shards of imported crystal and expensive porcelain are scattered everywhere.
Fuck. Fuck. This is so bad.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Your sister hasn’t been doing well for a week,” Graham says from behind me, his tone devoid of any empathy. His polished shoes crunch against the debris. “She’s been snapping at the staff. Threatening everybody. Breaking everything she could lay her hands on. She completely lost it, Maya.”
“Where is she, Graham? Where is Valeria?”
“I had her committed,” he answers, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “I sent her to a private psychiatric institution this afternoon.”
“What?!” I scream.
I collapse directly onto the floor. The shards slice through the fabric of my pants, cutting into my skin.
“What have you done?” I whisper, looking up at him through a blur of hot tears. “What the fuck have you done?”
A predatory smirk spreads across his wicked face.
“Everything to have you.”