I’m drenched in blood.Hisblood. My hands are shaking from rage and pain. The room stinks of iron, sweat, and the aftermath of cruelty. And she’s seeing it all—seeingme, the version I’ve always kept behind walls for her sake. The version that tortures, breaks, executes without hesitation.
And for the first time since I found her, I’m afraid.
Because this might be the moment she sees the monster I really am.
“Ava, princess…” My voice cracks slightly. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes flick between me and George. Once. Twice. And then again. Her expression is unreadable—until George, with what little air he has, speaks.
“This is what you chose,” he slurs. “A monster. A murderer. Look at him, Ava. Look at what he really is…”
The words are mangled, barely coherent—but the meaning lands.
And for a heartbeat, I hold my breath.
But something changes in her. I see it in her shoulders first—squared, steady. In her chin, lifted. In her eyes, no longer glassy with fear but clear, sharp, resolute.
Step by step, she walks toward me.
Then past me.
She turns to face George, who looks at her through swollen, blood-crusted eyes.
Ava turns to me, eyes glowing with something fierce and unshakable. And then she says it. Calm. Clear. Final.
“Finish as soon as possible, please. I need you, Daddy. I love you.”
The world tilts. My heart stutters.
She rises onto her toes and kisses me. Short. Sweet. Solid.
And just like that, George’s fate is sealed.
“I love you too, baby girl,” I whisper, unable to hide the smile that breaks across my face. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
I kiss her again. A promise, a vow.
Like the obedient little princess she is. She nods, turns around, and walks out.
Behind her, George begins screaming—broken cries and desperate curses that she will never hear again.
Because I’m going to make sure the last thing this bastard ever knows...
...is that she choseme.
Ava
When I walked down those stairs, I never imagined what I was going to see.
But there he was.
The love of my life—covered in the blood of my ex-husband.
The man who’d toyed with my mind from the moment I met him. The one who slipped poison into every word, every gesture, every shadow. The man who tore through my life with threats and notes, who shattered the peace I fought so hard to build. Who destroyed my store—my safe haven—and made me feel like prey in my own skin.
And now, he was paying for every single one of those sins.
Should I be afraid? Disgusted? Should I flinch at the sight of Elijah like this—bloodstained, brutal, the executioner I never truly imagined he could be?
