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Imogen betrayed me. She married a Russian and they are laughing at me. Always laughing at me. I saw the amusement on their faces as they stood before me, hand in hand and I will never recover from the sight of my wife touching another man.
Images of them fucking in my bed are haunting me and there is nothing I can do about it.
All I can do is imagine what I will do to them when the doctors find a cure for this devastating condition Winter inflicted on me.
She is no better. Openly kissing her lover before me, tainting my beautiful doll. It appears she lost her memory. That’s something at least. Maybe she will never remember she has a son.
The regret deepens when I think about the perfect human created for my pleasure. He will never receive my love. Never experience what it’s like to be the object of my affection. I had such a promising future planned for us both. He would fall in love with me. We would be happy.
The aircraft lands and the medics enter, grabbing the handles of my wheelchair and saying in excruciating cheerful voices, “Here he is. Not long now and we’ll have you safely home where you belong.”
Home! For a moment, I imagine they have found a cure. I will be free. I will get my revenge on them all and make their pain and suffering last a lifetime.
My heart lifts at the thought of being released from my prison and as I’m pushed down a ramp into a waiting ambulance, I almost expect the driver to head to my mansion.
I will instruct my men to round up my enemies. To bring them to my dungeons, where I will have them dismembered before my eyes. My loyal servants will do whatever I ask. I will reign supreme, and everything will be just as I had planned.
All of them. The men who brought me down and the women who let them. My darling Imogen will laugh and clap her hands in delight when I spill the Russian’s organs from his body and serve them to her to dine on and drink his blood. They will all pay. I will make certain of that. Portia, Don Majerio, and his bastard grandson. Winter and her brother, Angelo. Louisa and her husband who played their part in this. They will all suffer because I am the most astute player in the game. I am Massimo Delauren, and nothing will ever bring me down.
When the ambulance stops, I imagine seeing the familiar façade of my home. What I see is very different.
I know this place.
The screaming starts in my head but remains there because I have no outlet to release it. They must be wrong. I don’t belong here. Not here–anywhere but here.
As I’m pushed down the familiar sterile corridors, I pray that I’m not heading where I think I am, but as we take the usual elevator and spill out into the long white corridor, I understand exactly what they have planned.
“Here you go, Massimo buddy. We’ve found you a place next to a familiar face.”
As the door opens those malevolent eyes glare at me from her position by the window. Disapproving, chilling and disappointed. Always disappointed in me and I can almost feel the pain when she slapped me around the ears and caned me into submission.
I want to run, I want to leave, I want to be anywhere but here with her. She will ruin me, destroy me and she will make my life hell just like she did all those years ago.
“I know, I’ll position you facing one another, won’t that be lovely?”
The cheery nurse says with false optimism.
As I come eye to eye with the woman who drove me to a chilling place in my head, I cower before her angry gaze and the panic wraps me in bitterness and fear as my nanny, Iris Young, stares malevolently into my eyes.
Somehow, through the madness, I see them all laughing at me. My father, my mother and my brother. Every single person I have ever met has played a part in this madness and as I face the rest of my days staring into the sadistic eyes of the one I fear the most, I suffer the crushing realization of defeat.
EPILOGUE
MALIK
The small house set in a suburban street looks so normal it brings a rare smile to my face. If the neighbors knew who was hiding inside, they would lock their doors and wait for the storm to pass. I note them going about their daily chores, living the kind of life I could never imagine.
A dog barks and I hear a baby cry and my ears prick up as I sense my journey may be over before it’s even begun.
“Everyone is in place, sir.”
Ali, my trusted soldier, growls from his position beside me and I dust an imaginary speck of dust from my lap.
As I stare at the front door with interest, I’m surprised when it opens and a young woman steps out, looking around her with a guarded expression, almost as if she knows what’s about to happen.
“Do you want us to strike, sir?”
Ali sounds as if we’re out for a stroll in the park and, as always, nothing troubles him.
