“I’ll get you another drink,” I said smoothly, folding the papers and tucking them away inside my jacket. Close and protected.
I stood, taking a second to look at her. That smug, gleaming look on her face. Like she’d won something.
“What course is Everly studying again?” I asked casually.
She shrugged without missing a beat. “Don’t know. She’s finished or finishing. I can’t remember.”
Not even a flicker of interest. Not a second of hesitation to admit she didn’t care.
I turned and walked to the bar, thanking every goddamn power in the universe that I’d never procreated with that vile woman.
This was on me. My blind spot. I’d been too focused building my empire to realise the rot festering in my own home.
It was a mistake I’d never make again.
Chapter 3
Silas
It would be so easy to place my hands around her slim throat and squeeze the life out of her.
Instead, I helped her wash up, change, and tucked her into our bed like the dutiful husband I’d pretended to be for eleven years.
She was damn lucky I was disease-free.
My lip curled remembering her dropping to her knees, thinking she deserved my cock in that wretched mouth. I rubbed my thumb over my wedding ring. I wanted to rip it off. Not yet. It wasn’t time for the reveal. It wasn’t time to end the facade.
I switched the lamp off before I gave in and killed the foul bitch.
Envelope in hand, I took it straight to my safe. I slipped it inside, then paused, fingers brushing the heavier envelope.
Everly Mehta.
Another victim of Eris… or another carbon copy?
From memory, she’d leaned more toward her Indian heritage—dark eyes, sharper features. Quiet. Hard to read. Eleven years ago I’d dismissed her as collateral damage.
Now she was a variable.
With a sigh, I set her envelope back and took out my phone.
Conrad picked up on the second ring.
“It’s done,” I said. “I’ll drop the papers at your house in the morning. Six a.m.”
“Damn. It worked.”
“I just counted on her greed,” I said flatly. “Thanks, Conrad.”
“Always,” he replied. “I’ve got you.”
The call ended.
By next week, my house would be clean.
?? ?? ??
The perfume I once admired now choked me, thick and cloying in my lungs. It clung to everything—my clothes, the air, the memory of better illusions.
