Chapter Sixteen
He stood by the window, staring down at the street below. The houses across the way were dark and silent as a tomb. Streetlights cast long charcoal shadows across the asphalt. No cars. No footsteps. Only the stillness of the night.
A muffled grunt dragged him back to the room, and to the woman tied spread-eagle on the bed. Panic twisted on her face, and her eyes, wide and wet, fixed on him. He’d almost forgotten she was there.
He’d first noticed her at the bakery the week before, while he waited to buy a blueberry-filled Bismarck dusted with sugar.
Her beautiful dark hair had caught his eyes, and he loved the way it spilled in waves down her back.
Mesmerized by the movement, he’d almost forgotten why he was in line in the first place.
When he picked up the small white bag, he’d caught her laughing with the clerk and ordering the same donut.
In that moment, something about her had felt familiar, even comforting.
His sister used to love those jam-filled donuts, too.
When they were kids, they’d sit on the back porch and devour them together on the rare occasion their mother brought any home.
Afterward, his sister always had jam smeared across her cheeks, and he’d dip his napkin in water and gently wipe it away.
His sister was so pretty… so fragile… The memories skittered away as his gaze returned to the woman bound to the bed.
A frown creased his brow as frustration clawed up his spine.
When she’d ordered the same donut, he thought and hoped she may be the one.
His perfect one.
But now, looking at her trembling and ruined, disappointment soured his stomach. His jaw tightened.
How could he have thought she was right?
She wasn’t. No. Not at all.
She could never be his princess.
He walked closer, studying her face. Nothing in her expression sparked the perfection he needed—no softness, no glow, none of the flawless features his princess should have.
He turned away and exhaled slowly, forcing calm into his lungs. Another mistake. Another waste. His mind no longer lingered on the terrified woman behind him. She already began to fade into the background—unimportant and no longer any use to him.
In the midst of all the gloom that occupied his mind most of the time, there was only one woman who had that soft smile, those dark eyes that warmed him, and a face that made all the shadows retreat to the corners of his mind. She had been there all along.
Casey.
His perfect princess.
His light in all the darkness.
Clarity swept through him, clean and complete.
All was right again.
Relief flooded through him as he approached the bed.
The woman shook her head violently, gagged against the panties in her mouth, but he barely noticed.
Casey’s smiling face filled his mind as he wrapped his hands around the woman’s throat.
He squeezed until her body stopped twitching and went still.
He released her and stepped back, pulse steady, breath calm. She was already dissipating in his mind. He moved with practiced care, wiping surfaces, straightening what he had disturbed, restoring the room to the illusion of peace, except for the body on the bed growing cold.
He didn’t give a backward glance as he stepped out.
The stairwell door closed behind him with the softest click. Outside, the cold air wrapped around him. The street was still empty and dark.
His footsteps made no sound as he walked down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, the tree shadows swallowing him whole.
By the time he reached his car a few blocks away, soft euphoria slipped through him.
No more mistakes. No more hopes dashed. He knew exactly who his perfect princess was now.
Casey.
He drove away from the curb, waiting until he cleared the neighborhood before switching on the headlights. The street returned to stillness, untouched by his presence.
It was as if he’d never been there at all.