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“What are you doing to yourself, Julianna?” he sighed, suddenly looking more weary than ever.
I gestured around the room and then to myself. “This is my atonement.”
“How cruel,” he said, repeating my own words.
“You have to go; don’t come to see me again,” I said, my voice shaking and thick with unshed tears. “Stop tormenting yourself.”
Simon gave me a long stare and I could almost see him debating with himself, trying to find the right words to pacify me. To make it better. But really, there was nothing he could say that would change the past.
All it took was a single second.
One very impulsive decision.
And here I was.
Watching the aftermath – the destruction – of my mistakes.
Simon finally nodded, sharply. I watched him walk away, taking with him the last bit of Gracelynn that I carried in my bloodied hands.
The bodice of my gown felt too tight around my chest, pinching me until I couldn’t really breathe. I released a harsh exhale, puffing and dragging a desperate breath into my lungs.
I closed my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palm. It stung, like thorns pricking my flesh. I dug my nails deeper, cutting through my skin. I barely winced.
The pain started with a pinch, almost unnoticeable, before it flared up. The harder I pushed my nails into the cut I had made, the burning sensation intensified. My palm throbbed.
It distracted me.
I opened my hand, utterly mesmerized by the sight of blood staining my palm.
It hurt.
But I liked the pain.
I needed it.
It called to me.
Pain soothed me and I submerged myself in it.
Killian
“I want to wait… for our wedding night. For it to be special.”
My fingers clenched around the whiskey glass, fury coursing through my veins. Hot and burning. With a loud bellow, I tossed the glass across the room. It crashed into the wall, breaking into tiny pieces and scattering around the room. The whiskey soaked the carpet while staining the wallpaper, a dark brown.
When I was fourteen years old and I had realized the truth behind my parents’ marriage, I had vowed to myself that I would never settle for less than true love.
I had thought I found that with Gracelynn.
I had to hand it to my dead lover, though. She played me so fucking well, and I fell for it, like a fool I was. So blindly in love with her that I didn’t see her betrayal.
All this time, I thought Julianna was the villain. But it was Gracelynn who had managed to break me, to crack me open completely.
The woman I mourned for three years cheated on me. The woman I was meant to marry was carrying another man’s child.
How fucking pathetic.
Julianna knew. She fucking knew. Her sister was a cheater and a traitor, and while I mourned her, my wife didn’t even bother to tell me. Both Romano sisters played me well, it seemed.
No more.
I was done.
Done being played.
Done being the fool that I was for the wrong women.
My father was right when he said I had to figure out my priorities. It was about fucking time I did so. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey, I bolted out of my room and blindly followed the path to the East wing.
My body was tensed with supressed anger. The poison of it ate at my flesh, sinking into my bones, into the marrow of me until I became one with it.
My fury churned within, hungry for destruction. It hovered over me like a morning fog, clouding my judgment. Rage was deceitful, but goddamn it, right now – it tasted so fucking sweet on my tongue.
In the back of my head, warning bells sounded. The maddening ghost on my shoulder hissed, telling me to stop. Urging me to think. Screaming at me that once the rage dissipated, I would be left with more regret than I could bear.
But I wasn’t listening.
I was beyond that.
“I want to wait… for our wedding night. For it to be special.”
I laughed, without any humor, but my laughter sounded just as mad as I felt. My legs carried me to my destination.
I stalked inside Julianna’s room, her door slamming into the wall next to it. Julianna jumped, her hand going to her chest frantically. Her eyes darted around her room until they landed on me. She was still dressed in her wine-red gown, her masquerade mask hiding her face from me.
“What are–”
“Do you consent?” I asked, practically snarling the words. I kicked the door close with my foot.
Her eyes widened. “You – I mean, tonight?”
I brought the bottle of whiskey to my mouth and took a huge gulp, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat and that was the only thing keeping me somewhat sane. “Yes, tonight. Right now. Get fucking undressed, Julianna.”
Her hand fluttered over her chest and she looked left and right, seeking some kind of answer from the boring walls. And when she couldn’t find any, her gaze landed on mine again.
