A single tear slid down his face.
I gasped, pressing a hand to my mouth.
“She was the love of my life.” His eyes darkened, lost in something far away. “She was my everything.”
His throat bobbed.
“In the end…” His voice broke.
“I killed her.”
An inhale lodged in my chest.
Malik. Killed Isabelle.
Who was she?
Why had he?—
And then—he was in front of me again.
One hand pressed against the wall over my head, caging me in. The other, soft, deliberate, brushed through my hair and traced the lines of my face.
His voice was low, a murmur laced with something I couldn’t decipher.
“Life works in mysterious ways.”
I hated how he soothed me.
One second, he confessed to killing someone he had loved.
The next, his touch was lulling me into submission, wrapping me in his presence like a silken noose.
His effect on me was maddening.
I loathed it.
And I craved it—all in the same breath.
Then, just like that, his demeanor shifted.
Cool. Polite. Butler-like.
“I’m so sorry to have disrupted your sleep,” he said smoothly, inclining his head.
Then—
He was gone.
I blinked.
I hadn’t seen him leave.
I hadn’t heard the door open.
I hadn’t felt the air shift.
One moment he was there—the next, nothing.
