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Chapter 3
Lennox
I hear footsteps—her footsteps.
She’s still wearing heels, and they click against the floor as she approaches me.
She’s alone.
Finally, we’re alone.
But I can’t lift my head. I can barely open my eyes. My shoulders and wrists are numb from being over my head for so long. Blood oozes down my back. And the pain has overwhelmed my senses to the point that I don’t even feel it anymore. I’m not sure I can feel anything anymore.
That is until she walks closer, and my heart flips in my chest. It has a reason to pump again. As it beats, the pain in the rest of my body returns, and I start to fight again, remembering what I’m fighting for: her.
Rialta stops right in front of me.
My heart goes into overdrive, and I hope the blood through my body gives me enough strength to lift my head and look at her. But it’s a useless endeavor—I’m too weak.
Suddenly, her fingers thread through my hair, and I gasp. It feels fucking incredible, and it gives me hope.
And then her fingers dig into my scalp, and she grips my hair, yanking my head up until I’m face to face with her. The move is a sharp contrast to the gentle touch she displayed just a second earlier.
Rialta’s expression is blank and unreadable, but it doesn’t stop me from grinning at her. I can’t help it. No matter the reason for her visit, I’m happy that she’s here. I get to see her again.
We stare at each other, neither of us speaking. But the longer I study her, the more I realize that she’s changed. She’s as far as she can get from the girl I first met. The girl I hated. The girl who seemed naive and overly protected. The girl who seemed selfish, incapable of putting others before herself.
I couldn’t have been more wrong about her. But now that I’m in love with her, am I still blinded to her true self?
Who is Rialta Corsi?
The corner of her lip lifts into a vicious snarl as if reading my mind and answering.
Has she been this wicked, divine creature this whole time?
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip.
“Don’t do that,” she says.
“Do what?” my voice is soft and joking.
“That,” she hisses as I rake my teeth over my bottom lip again.
I chuckle. “Why? What does it make you feel, wifey?”
“Don’t call me that. I hate that I have to be married to you.”
“Do you now? I’m pretty sure you love being my wife. You love how cruel I can be. And you especially love the things I do to you in bed.”
“I hate you. You killed Kit. I’ll never love you. I’ll always hate you. There is nothing you could do that could ever make me forgive you.”
“Hmm.”
She glares at me, and that’s when I spot the shiny metal in her hand.
“Since when did you learn how to hold a gun?”
She grinds her teeth together. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
