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PROLOGUE
Giselle
The wall clock ticked loudly, marking each second that passed by as I closed my eyes and counted with the sound, hoping it would all be over soon.
The curtain of perfection I’d carefully constructed and presented to the world was tearing, and there wasn’t a thread strong enough to stitch it back together and fix my brokenness. Not after …
No one knew the dark secrets I hid. The ones ripping me to shreds from the inside out. As hard as I’d tried to escape, the monsters hunted me down, clawing at my soul.
I lay still on the mattress in the guest bedroom of the home I shared with my husband, Ander, wiggling my numbing fingers while I listened to the soothing classical music from the string quartet downstairs. Staring at the stark white ceiling as my vision blurred in and out, I swallowed hard as I prayed to a God I no longer believed in. My hand wrapped around the half-empty fifth of vodka as a single sleeping pill wobbled on the nightstand. The rest of the medication had traveled down my throat and into my stomach an hour ago.
A tear streamed down my cheek as I closed my eyes, releasing all the pain, frustration, and fear that had chained me to this world. Once I’d finally made the decision to end my life, in that split second, I’d had peace for the first time in years.
My ears perked up at the sound of my phone ringing. I suspected it was my husband since I was supposed to meet him for our anniversary party downstairs instead of lying here dying.
My stomach churned as Ander’s words from earlier ricocheted in my mind.You’re a no-good little bitch. Maybe I was. But what I needed to do had become crystal clear. There was no other escape—this was my only option. Soon, I would be free forever.
I softly chuckled as the childhood memory of my mother kneading dough flashed through my groggy brain. Flour dotted her nose and sharp cheekbones, giving her a gentle appearance. The aroma of sweet baked goods invaded my senses as if it were still that day.
“Giselle, wedding rings are the world’s smallest handcuffs.”Her face turned grim as she continued telling me about all the tragedies of marriage and how a woman was subjected to the will of the man in his role as the head of the household. It didn't matter if those handcuffs are diamond encrusted.
A dull ache spread through me at the memory. At the time, I’d been young enough to think her words were a joke. But not anymore. The only key I could find to release me from Ander's chains was at the bottom of a pill container and a fifth of Absolut.
The glass bottle slipped from my fingers, and I blinked as it shattered against the hardwood floor. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply as the fatal combination of pills and vodka infiltrated every cell of my being, then began counting backward from one hundred. Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven … and with every number, the darkness of death began to tease me with its presence.
Suddenly, my body revolted. Rolling to the edge of the bed, I searched for the trashcan to empty the contents of my stomach. I blinked rapidly, willing the drugs to stay in my system, to take effect faster.
The room tilted on its side, and I gasped for air. I grabbed the nightstand and stood on wobbly legs, needing to be anywhere else other than here. Unable to think clearly, I staggered into the hall.People. Oh, God. They are everywhere.
Keeping my eyes trained on the bathroom door, I attempted to make my way through the groups of people laughing and drinking politely while they waited to use the restroom. If they only knew there was nothing in this house to be happy about.
“Excuse me,” I slurred, somehow managing to tap a lady on the shoulder after the second try. “I need the restroom.” I stumbled, nearly face-planting. Fortunately, a gentlemen caught my fall and helped me locate my balance again.
“Oh, hon, are you all right? You don’t look well at all,” he said. Turning to the small crowd, he asked, “Can we please let this lady use the facilities first?”
People parted, allowing me to approach. My palm smacked the doorframe, the sting zipping up my arm as I hurried inside. Somehow, I managed to have the sense to lock it behind me. A cold sweat beaded my forehead as I collapsed to the marble floor. I sucked in a shaky breath and crawled my way to the toilet. With a trembling hand, I flipped up the seat and leaned against the wall. I wiped my forehead with my palm and willed myself not to vomit.
“Please. Please let me die,” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Maybe seconds. Maybe minutes. The pounding in my head had calmed, and I no longer felt nauseous. I grabbed the toilet and pulled myself off the floor. Ander would not be happy if I appeared in a wrinkled dress that he’d spent ten grand on. My brow furrowed. Fuck Ander. He was the reason I was starring in this horror movie in the first place.
I leaned on the counter and stood in front of the mirror. My hazel eyes were usually light and flecked with gold, but now they were also empty, haunted, and I no longer recognized the woman who stared back at me. I’d said goodbye to her when I was just an innocent kid, and a stranger took her place.
Swaying, I attempted to smooth my long black hair before I joined the party. Losing my balance, I gripped the counter and steadied myself as my vision blurred and thethump thumpof my heartbeat in my ears. Ander would be pissed if I wasn’t by his side soon. I was mad, too, but not because I was late for the celebration. I was furious and terrified that my suicide attempt had failed. Next time …
Before I lost my nerve, I flung the door open, and my brows shot up. My hand flew to my chest as my attention landed on the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. It wasn’t just the rare color. It was the story they hid in their depths. The man with dark blonde hair and piercing green eyes commanded power and exuded a strong gentleness all at the same time. Before I could say a word, my world turned black, and peace cloaked me as I tumbled to the floor.
1
One Year Later ~Zayne
Vaughn Reddington, a co-worker and one of my best friends, plopped into the brown leather recliner in our boss’s living room. He offered me a lopsided grin as he trained his eyes—one blue and one brown—on me. “What’s up, motherfucker?”
I rubbed my chin, giving him a pointed look from the couch as he grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and turned on the television.
“Sutton and Pierce don’t have any work for you to do around here?” Vaughn stifled a yawn.
I grinned at him. Pierce and Sutton were our longtime friends, and they also owned and ran Westbrook Security, where we all worked.
