She looks away in defeat, and I smirk. Breaking her spirit is half the fun. “COO of Windsor Finance and The Windsor Bank? She didn’t even ask any questions — she just got it done. Three days, and he’d tragically become bankrupt because he’d invested in all the wrong companies against her advice. Turns out he’d allegedly heard rumors from his friends about an exciting new investment. Funny, that. I wonder where all of those rumors came from.”
I glance at Silas and Xavier. “What shall we do with her?” I murmur, offering Silas my scalpel. “You wanna have a go while I mull it over? I know you were pissed about what she did to Raven.”
He seems to think it over before shaking his head. “No, I can’t get my clothes dirty. My wife picked this outfit for me this morning, and if I come home with blood on me, I’ll have to explain why. I love her, but I don’t trust that she won’t go to Raven straight away to gloat about what we’ve done, and I know you don’t want Rave to know.”
Xavier groans. “So just change?” he mutters.
Silas chuckles. “If I come home wearing a different outfit, you might as well put that scalpel to my throat yourself. My little psycho will definitely demand an explanation if I do something as stupid as that.”
I raise a brow and glance at Xavier. “Do you have a vial of that stuff I like?” I murmur.
He nods and reaches for his inside pocket, taking a small bottle out. He hands it to me, and I stare at it for a moment. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” I tell Hannah. “You can either drink the poison in this bottle and end things now.” She begins to cry, and I grit my teeth. I really do fucking hate it when they cry. “But I’m not entirely heartless, so I’ll give you an easy reprieve on account of your ties to my sister-in-law. I’m highly concerned that she’d blame herself for anything that I might do to you, so I’m reluctant to do permanent damage. I don’t give a fuck about you, but I absolutely cannot risk hurting Raven any further.”
I glance back at Xavier, and his expression falls. “No,” he says. “Whatever you—”
I grin and cut him off. “The Kingstons are looking for a new maid,” I lie. “Work for them for five years, serving every one of those people you thought you were better than.” She doesn’t need to ask me why five years — she knows how many years of happiness she stole away from Raven.
“We’ll put you in a pretty maid costume, and you can serve drinks and dinner at every big event that everyone you know will be present at. I’ll have you clear their plates and take their coats, and we’ll even pay you a little salary. No more luxury escapes, no more pretending you simply retired. I’m going to ensure you get the attention you always wanted.”
Hannah looks horrified, and I catch her steal a glance at the poison in my hands. Seriously? She’d rather end her life than work a service job for a few years? I guess the humiliation is too much for her, but then again, that’s why I chose this as punishment. I doubt she even realizes that I’m letting her get off incredibly easy. I’m giving her a chance. If she keeps her head down and suffers through the excessive humiliation I’m about to make her endure, I’ll let her go in five years. If not… then I suppose an incredibly unfortunate tragic accident awaits her, perhaps one that severely injures her but doesn’t quite kill her. I’ll just make her wish she was dead while taking away any means of ending her life.
“I… I’ll do it,” she says, her tone defeated. “I’ll work for the Kingstons.”
There’s a slight glimmer of hope in her eyes, as though she thinks she can escape her fate. That hope will only make her fall more painful. “It’s so cute,” I whisper, “that you think you had a choice.”
Chapter Eleven
Dion
“What’s bothering you, honey?” Mom asks, her thumb pressing between my brows to keep me from frowning.
My heart instantly overflows with longing at the sight of her, and I inhale sharply. I reach for her, scared she’ll disappear the moment my fingers touch her face, but she doesn’t. She really is here with me.
I exhale slowly when she leans into my touch, her cheek pressed against the palm of my hand. “Mom,” I murmur, my voice breaking. “I miss you so much, every single day. We all do.” My words tumble out in a rush, for fear I won’t get another chance to say them.
“You’re all grown up,” she says, her voice filled with sorrow. “Ares and Luca are married now, and soon you will be too. I wish I could’ve been there to watch your brothers say I do.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “You’d love Raven and Val. They’ve become family, and I just know you’d love them like they’re your own daughters.”
She places her hand over mine, keeping my palm pressed against her cheek. “You know it’s your fault, right? It’s your fault I didn’t get to see any of you grow up. It’s your fault that the only time you get to see me is in your dreams.”
My heart wrenches painfully, and my words lodge in my throat. “Forgive me,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I regret it more than you’ll ever know.”
She shakes her head, her expression filled with hatred. “You’re a monster,” she murmurs. “You know that, don’t you? It’s why you held back with Hannah. You’re scared Raven will find out, and she’ll stop looking at you like you’re the brother she never had. You didn’t show Hannah mercy because you felt sorry for her — you have no remorse. You did it in a misguided attempt to prove to yourself that you’re not vicious. It’s laughable, really.”
“Mom,” I whisper, my voice breaking. I so badly want to refute her words, but I can’t, because she’s right. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“What will Faye think when she discovers who you truly are?” she ponders, cutting me off, a cruel smile on her face. “You tried to stay away from her for years because you were scared that if you let her in, she’d hate what she’d find as much as I do. Your time is up, Dion.”
Mom gently pats my cheek, her sweet touch jarring. “If you’d been a better person, perhaps she might one day have forgiven you for what you did to her mother, Dad, and me. But you’re not repentant, are you? You’re worse now than you were then. Soon, she’ll realize that, and then she won’t even give you those fake smiles of hers. I hope you drown in an ocean of her tears.”
I gasp as I’m startled awake by the force of my pain. I groan and bury my face in my hands, my breathing ragged. My chest feels hollow, and the wounds suddenly feel fresh.
Years of therapy, and one single dream still makes me second-guess everything. I stare up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing.
I’ve gone over the records countless times, and I’ve spoken to every person involved in the investigation. There was nothing wrong with my parents’ plane, and there’s no explanation for their crash. Logically, I know I wasn’t entirely to blame. Or at least, that’s what my therapist would like me to believe.
According to her, I was simply a child eager for my parents to come home, and that’s all it was. She’s been trying to convince me that asking them to return early didn’t crash their plane, but some days, it’s harder to believe that than most. Especially with Faye re-entering my life, the guilt increasingly evolves into a vicious monster, hitting me when I least expect it. Her mother was on that plane, after all, right alongside mine. The truth is, if I hadn’t made that request, they wouldn’t have been on the flight at all.
I sit up with a sigh, giving up on sleep entirely. I don’t have these kinds of dreams as often anymore, but every time I do, I’m brought back to the past. For years, I obsessively studied the case files, and I’ve only just about learned to let it go. Tonight feels like a step back when I can least afford it. Between the relocation of the company and Faye, there’s no time to obsess over things I can’t fix. I can’t afford to lose myself in the past and the guilt that accompanies it, not again.
I can pretty much guess what brought this on. Each time I see Faye, I’m hit with another dream. This one was long overdue. It’s almost as though I’m not allowed to forget that I don’t deserve her, that I played a role in her loss — however small it may have been.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way she felt against me when I kneeled in front of her in my hotel room, her thighs wrapped around my waist. I keep imagining what she’ll look like as I push deep inside her in that exact same position, how she’ll sound with my name on her lips.
For years, she unknowingly kept chipping away at my defenses each time I saw her, until she finally obliterated them entirely that day in my suite a few weeks ago. There’s no point in denying it any longer — I want Faye, and not just physically. Seeing two of my brothers happily married made me want things I know I don’t deserve. Not with Faye, at least.