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“No. I don’t want her dead.”
“I should’ve known it was a woman,” Cristian muttered. “They know how to cut the deepest.”
I laughed at the insight. “Women are the most dangerous creatures to walk this earth.”
Cristian’s expression turned grave. “I’m well aware of that.”
My heart thundered.
“It was Pete’s mother,” I blurted, leaning over to grab the wine from the nightstand. “She wanted to punish me for what I did to her son. Breaking his heart and all that,” I scoffed.
Cristian glowered. “I wish I made his death last longer.”
I pursed my lips, agreeing with him silently. “Will they ever find his body?” I asked because I was curious, not worried. I wanted to know the way they did things here.
“No,” he said simply. “No one ever finds the bodies. For this, I am glad. She will never find peace.”
Despite the situation, I smiled in wicked satisfaction. It comforted me to know, and that made me evil but I didn’t much mind at this moment.
Cristian continued to stare, and I sipped my wine to distract myself from the weight of his gaze. “What did she say? To pierce my woman’s thick skin.”
I should’ve known he’d ask this question. Cristian might’ve admitted his feelings toward me, but that didn’t mean he had promised me a lifetime of kindness. He wanted to know my weak points, whether or not to exploit them or help me protect them, I wasn’t sure.
I could stay silent. Refuse to tell him. Though that would do little good.
“My mother.” I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I’m sure you know that she died of ovarian cancer three years ago.”
Cristian didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. He knew. He knew everything there was to know about me.
“She didn’t have health insurance,” I continued. “She didn’t have anything. Life wasn’t kind to her, and she continued to expect others to save her.” I adjusted the sheet around my waist before I continued. “Despite what life had taken from her, she always clung to a happy ending. She got an ending. Painful. Long and without dignity.” I drained the wine. “But she got it in the best hospital in the city, with all the drugs money can buy. Though money can’t buy an honorable death. Such a thing doesn’t exist.” I sighed. There was no emotion in my voice. I didn’t feel any now. My shields were back up. “Pete paid all of her medical bills. And her funeral costs.”
“Which was why you agreed to marry him,” Cristian guessed.
I smiled. “Yes.”
“It’s a good thing I came along and saved you from a terrible fate,” Cristian’s tone was light, almost teasing.
“A good thing,” I agreed, my tone matching his. “Though I thought you told me that you weren’t going to save me?”
Cristian moved quickly so he was on top of me, bracing himself on his elbows so he didn’t give me his full weight. “No, Sienna, I won’t save you. Not when you’re quite capable of saving yourself.” His eyes danced with something. “Even from me, if you chose to.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he kissed me. Despite how intoxicating that kiss was, I couldn’t help thinking it sounded like he knew I had evidence to use against him.
Surely not. If he knew that, I’d be dead.
Chapter Eighteen
Two Weeks Later
I didn’t pick out my wedding dress.
It made sense, considering I didn’t pick my groom.
Though the groom in question had given me the option. I’d refused out of spite. It happened early on, mere days after I’d moved in here. When I was full of fury and hate.
My measurements had been taken the morning after, under my protest, of course. But everything about this had been under my protest.
That night, I’d been so sure of what I wanted. What I didn’t want. Now everything was mixed. Warped beyond belief.
I didn’t want to open the garment bag. I should’ve tossed it from my window. Should’ve found a pack of matches and set it on fire, poured red wine all over it, shredded it with a pair of scissors. There were countless acts of defiance that would’ve been appropriate for this situation. That would’ve been sane. Escape, of course, was the sanest. But my mind was still on the threat from the first night. Jessica and Eli.
He was capable of that, I knew. I knew Cristian was capable of ordering the deaths of the two most important people in my world, yet I still went to his bed.
I was so fucked-up.
And in keeping with how fucked-up I was, I didn’t destroy the dress, didn’t shove it in the garbage bin outside. No, I took it out of the bag.
Though I had been engaged for almost a year to Pete, I had not put one ounce of thought into my wedding dress. Or my wedding. Such things should’ve served as red flags, but I’d brushed them off since we were both busy. The truth was, I never gave it much thought because then the reality of the decision I made would’ve confined me like shackles.
