Page 120 of Roman

She laughed, the sound making me shiver. “To draw you out.” She waved the gun in her hand. “I knew you’d be here today.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never did.” She marched toward me, the gun in her hand aimed directly at me. I stood, backing away from Alex. He was dead, his phone lying on the ground beside him, his blood covering it.

“Effie. The perfect little princess,” she ranted. “God, I hated you.”

“Why?” I asked again, desperate to keep her talking. Praying someone had heard the shot and would come investigate.

“My life was great until you showed up. Then it was all about the baby. Effie. I had to share my dad with you. You took my new mother away from me. It was only supposed to be me.”

Even after everything she had done, I was shocked at the hatred in her voice.

“I always loved you.”

She laughed again, coming closer. “You were always an idiot. I’ve been trying to get rid of you my whole life.” She smiled widely. “The incident where your crib railing fell down and you rolled out. That time you fell in the pool and almost drowned. The night that tree limb just missed you. The incident with the poison. I tried so hard, but I always failed. I thought I’d succeeded this time, but you had to fucking get rescued.”

“That…that was you? All those accidents?” I sputtered. I had always thought I was just unlucky. Marianne had been responsible all those times?

“But you saved me.”

Marianne sneered. “Made me look good.”

My God, she wasn’t simply a narcissist: she was psychotic. Deranged.

She tossed her hair. “There is no rescuing for you this time, little sister.”

“If you kill me, Roman will hunt you down.”

She laughed. “I have my own protection now. Roman will join you soon enough.”

I shook my head in disbelief. Roman was too protected. She kept talking, her voice furious and high-pitched. Her eyes were wild, her gaze jumping around.

“How you got him to marry you, I have no idea. It should have been me. He should have seen what I could do for him.”

“He married me because he loves me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Then he’ll pay to get you back. I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to take you, and Roman is going to pay big to get you back. I want his money.” Her smile grew. “He just won’t get back the same little princess I took from him. By then, it’ll be too late.” She chortled in twisted glee. “For both of you.”

My stomach lurched, and I covered my mouth with my hand. “I can get you money, Marianne. Roman has lots. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it. But don’t touch me. Please.”

“Like I believe you.”

I heard the screech of tires and some shouting. Noises I was certain were muffled gunshots. I turned my head, positive it was Roman’s voice I heard. I gasped as Marianne rushed forward, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me toward her.

Roman appeared, racing over the hill, seeing us. He held up his hands as he approached. “Let her go.”

Marianne laughed, the sound crazed. “Not happening.” She aimed her gun at him. “Don’t come any closer.”

I screamed as Roman kept coming, and Marianne shot at him. His body jolted, his arms flying upright, and he stopped, looking down at his shoulder. Blood soaked the material of his suit. But he kept walking. He met my wild, panicked gaze. “It’s going to be fine, Effie.”

He stopped a short distance away.

“Tell me what you want, and let her go,” he demanded.

Marianne shook her head, and I smelled her odor. She was high. Dirty. She reeked of weed and alcohol. And she was frantic. She tightened her grip on my hair.

Roman tried to get her attention. “Timothy is dead, Marianne. I killed him, so your backup is gone. You have two choices. I kill you, or I give you what you want and you give me what I want.”