For the past four years, Cleo gave me that and so much more. It was enough. . . until Marcus entered the equation.
I don’t back away when challenged, but he wasn’t just threatening to call “checkmate.” He tried to swipe all the pieces from the chessboard. That is when my game plan changed. My interest in Cleo switched to something greater than revenge. We reached a mutual understanding. We connected. We were more than strangers. But Marcus destroyed any possibility of us finding our happily ever after. He tainted her with lies, made her a woman undeserving of love. He ruined her. I tried to save her from the madness. She didn’t listen.
She still isn’t listening.
“After everything I did for you, you still want to have his bastard child?” I eat my words twice, the violence of their delivery bouncing off Cleo’s tearstained face before ramming back down my throat.
Clearly brainwashed, Cleo nods, which is virtually impossible with how hard I am clutching her chin. My grip on her face doubles as anger envelops me. Just like Stephen, I consider snapping her neck now, making her death clean and painless. Unfortunately for them both, my father never taught me leniency.
Stephen betrayed me. He paid for his stupidity with his life.
When Cleo betrayed me, I gave her my forgiveness.
I will not make the same mistake twice.
“No, please, no.” Cleo’s lips tremble as she tries to pull away from me. I’m not going to kiss her as her eyes are begging me to do. I’m going to issue her one final promise, one I intend to keep—even if it kills me.
The hairs on her neck prickle when I snarl, “I saved your child from the depths of hell by stopping it from turning out like him—and perhaps even a little like me.” The smile that arrives with my last sentence doesn’t suit the callousness of my words.
Cleo’s breaths quiver on my neck when I press my lips in close to her ear. My smile is so broad, my teeth graze her earlobe sufficiently enough for the seductive scent of her blood to linger in my nostrils. “I promise to save any future children you have as well. We don’t want any misfit bastards left lying around.”
I only see the quickest flare of alarm dart through Cleo’s eyes before a strike to the back of my head forces me to succumb to blackness, but it is more than enough. It will feed my appetite for revenge for the next several years, only growing in intensity for every year we spend apart.
The weak request forgiveness.
The strong seek revenge.
I’m the strongest I’ve ever been.
