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The fact Theo and Xander had only made one or two passing comments about my choice of body-covering clothing in the middle of a heatwave in Boston meant they suspected.
Who the fuck was I kidding? They knew. Their eyes gave it away. They watched me, scrutinized my moods, and analyzed my words.
Plus, they’d gone beyond the standard protocol of cleaning up the scene and making it seem like Andraius passed in his sleep. Instead, they’d restaged his body at another location far from the house and passed it off as a hit.
Were they waiting for me to broach the subject with them?
Outside of the comments from the night of Andraius’s death, they hadn’t mentioned anything regarding my involvement.
What would I say to them?
My husband threatened to put me in a coma and impregnate me, so I gutted him.
Out of nowhere, dizziness rushed through my head and bile rose in my throat, nearly choking me.
I doubled over, the towel tumbling from my hair, and purged my stomach into the sink as I realized what he had planned as my future washed over me. He would have destroyed me to have a baby. A child he’d never view with love, only as a commodity.
He planned to steal my life, my legacy, everything from me.
It was all for money.
He deserved to die by my hands. Why had I waited so damn long?
Once I had nothing left inside me, I lifted my head. Tears flowed freely from my eyes, and the color of my skin looked pale and so lifeless.
He had destroyed me.
A hiccup escaped my lips, and I slowly cleaned up my mess in the sink, brushed my teeth, and washed my face. I continued to cry for the broken woman I refused to be anymore.
I’d spent the last four days in a haze, going through the motions, numb and emotionless. But maybe that’s what I needed to make all the decisions, take on my new role, and deal with the attention of other “well-meaning” families.
As if I needed any of them to come to rescue me when not a single one of them stepped in to help me when the fucker destroyed my family.
Fuck all of them.
It was time to use my lady balls and take on that role Papa wanted me to fill but I no longer desired.
I desperately needed his guidance, and it wasn’t possible.
I missed the numbness that had washed over me after Andraius’s death.
Now the floodgates were open, and the pain, the heartache of everything I’d endured overwhelmed me. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, and I had no one to share it with.
One thing I had no problems admitting.
I felt not an ounce of guilt for killing Andraius.
No. Guilt. Whatsoever. He deserved to die.
“I don’t regret it,” I whispered. “I don’t regret it.”
I stared at my face in the mirror again just as a laugh bubbled up, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, “I’m glad you’re dead, you fucking bastard. I don’t regret it.”
I screamed even louder, “I hope you burn in hell. You deserved ten times worse than you got. I fucking hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.”
Suddenly, loud banging vibrated through the bedroom door, along with shouts.
First, it was Theo. “Nerine. Open the fucking door.”
