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“What happened, Jonathan?”
“Why do you want to know?” He narrows his eyes on me. “So you can engrave me in your head as your sister’s killer?”
It’s the exact opposite. Despite hearing Alicia’s message, a rebellious part of me refuses to believe Jonathan hurt her or would hurt me. That’s why I want him to talk, so that I’ll be able to murder that part of me.
“I told you my side of the story. It’s your turn, Jonathan.”
“Is that why you ran away and tried to escape?”
I bite my bottom lip.
“You don’t trust me?” Though his voice is calm, there’s an angry undertone to it.
“I trust my sister.”
“You shouldn’t. At least not blindly. She was mentally unwell.”
I puff my chest. “My sister was not crazy.”
His mouth twitches at the corner. “And you wonder why I call you wild one. You look the part right now.”
“If you expect me to stay still while you badmouth my sister, you have another thing coming.”
“I’m not badmouthing her. I’m stating facts that she tried her hardest to hide from you and the world.”
I inch closer to him until my thigh nearly touches his. “What do you mean?”
“Alicia’s father was the King family’s arch enemy. Lord Sterling was out to destroy my father and any legacy he left behind because my mother didn’t choose him. After my parents’ deaths, I decided to destroy him.”
I gasp. “Is that why you married Alicia? For revenge?”
“Yes.”
“How could you do that to her? You tyrant! Brute!” I curl my palm to punch him.
Jonathan cuts me a sharp glare. “Reopen your wounds and I’m tying you the fuck up, Aurora. I meant it earlier.”
The thought of being helpless causes a shudder to overtake me. I let my palms fall to my sides, but he doesn’t stop glaring at me, the sense of injustice on my sister’s behalf enveloping me whole. “Why would you do that to her?”
“She knew.”
“W-what?”
“I told her about my reasons from the start.”
“And…she agreed?”
“Indeed.”
“But why did she?”
“Because she hated her father for your mother’s death and wanted to bring him down. She didn’t have enough power to accomplish that, so I lent her that power and gave her the ability to see her father on his knees. He came to our doorstep, begging us to loan him money to save his business. I made sure no one else would, so his only solution was us.”
“And?” I scoot over, and this time, my thigh touches his. I want to watch his expression closely as he tells me about the past. But it doesn’t change much, except the part where he seems trapped in another timeline.
“She gave him money.”
“Oh.”
