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Prologue
ANONYMOUS
Itwirl the bloody penknife in my hand as I stare down at the man with disgust.
Weak.
That’s exactly how he looks, lying at my feet with his sightless eyes staring at nothing, his mouth parted on a silent scream. The pathetic wimp barely even put up a fight. It wassofucking easy to kill him.
It just proves that I was right. Heisn’tgood enough for her. No one is.
Only me.
I’m the only one who truly cares for her. The only one who sees who she really is. Everyone else thinks they know her, but they only see what she wants them to.I’mthe only one who can see past the lies. See through the deception.
He thought she was happy with him? Wrong!
She’s been slowly dying inside, and he couldn’t even fucking see it!
Yet he had the audacity to think he was worthy of spending the rest of his life with her?
Ha!
Well, I proved him wrong.
I’m the only one worthy of Emilia’s love.
… And she’s the only one worthy of mine.
Chapter1
EMILIA
Pinot Grigio or Merlot.White or red.I glance back and forth between the bottle of wine I’m holding in each hand, indecision warring within me while one of my best friends talks away in my ear.
“Cathy is such a bitch. I swear she makes a point of passing my desk at least four times a day just so she can scowl at me.”
Ah, fuck it. Both it is.
“So just scowl back at her,” I respond as I set both bottles beside my groceries for the week and push the cart down the aisle.
“She’s my boss, Em.” She sighs in exasperation. “I have to play nice.”
I laugh because playing nice is not something Mel is good at. We met on our first day at Halston University four years ago. Both of us were there on a scholarship—me as an English major and her to study finance. We hit it off immediately, and when we graduated last summer, we both moved to the same city.
She got a job in a bank, and from the stories I’ve heard, she has the boss from hell. However, her pain is my endless amusement. Every day there’s a new story.
I hear rustling on the other end of the line, followed by heavy pants. “What are you doing? You sound out of breath.”
“Oh, I’m just taking out the trash.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, are we still on for a girls’ night tomorrow?”
“You know it. Just don’t let me drink too much,” I respond, eyeing up the two bottles of wine in my cart. “Richard’s taking me away for the weekend.”
“Ooh, fancy. Special occasion?”
