"STAY BACK!" Leah shrieks, her voice a shrill, ugly thing. She's using Della as a shield, holding her flush against her body.
I watch, my vision narrowing to a single point, as a small, hot drop of red blood trickles from where the glass presses tracing a line down her pale skin until it hits the ruby at her throat. My ruby.
The rage I felt vanishes, replaced by an ice so cold it burns.
"Leah," I say, my voice a low, dangerous growl as I look straight her in the eyes. "Let. Her. Go."
"You came," she pants, half-laughing, half-sobbing. "You actually came. For her?" She presses the glass even harder.
Della flinches, and for a second, I swear something shatters inside me. My hands curl into fists, nails digging hard into my skin.
Wait. Wait. Wait.
"Don't you see, Dorian?" Leah’s voice goes wild, almost desperate. "She's a mistake! She doesn’t deserve you. I made you what you are. When I married you, you were a passionate, insecure boy."
Somewhere behind us, I catch the sound—someone hits the ground hard. David’s loose now. But right now, it doesn’t change a thing. The glass is still pressed against Della’s throat.
"I broke you to forge you into a king!" Leah continues, her monologue desperate and manic. "I am the woman you need, Dorian! We are a power together; we can have everything. Let’s get rid of her... and we can—"
"You're right." My voice cuts through her rant, flat and dead. I drop my hands to my sides, relaxing my posture, forcing the predator inside me to hold.
Leah blinks, confused. "What?"
"You're right about one thing," I say, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. The ice in my eyes is absolute. "I was a boy. A fool. Because I never saw who you really are."
"Dorian, I'm offering you—"
"You're a sickness, Leah," I state, as if discussing the weather. "You're a poison. You didn't mold me. You only ever cared about yourself, you betrayed and you manipulated. And now, you're done."
"I'll kill her!" she shrieks, her hand shaking so hard the glass rattles. "I'll do it, Dorian, I swear I will!"
"No, you won't," I say, taking another step. I don’t look away. My eyes lock on hers—hunting for that split second, she’ll crumble. I push every ounce of control I have at her, all the anger too, but my entire universe is focused on the periphery: the hand that's shaking, the jagged glass, the frantic pulse I can see beating in Della's throat.
"Because you're a coward," I continue. "You only attack the weak. The unarmed. The ones who can't fight back."
Leah’s voice is changing to a sweeter manipulative note. A small, knowing, vile laugh escapes her. “Oh, Dorian. You have no idea... the things I did for you, for us—”
"You are DEAD to me, Leah."
The words echo in the vast, dead air, cutting her off before she can finish her poison. That hint—that dark, all-knowing tone—it's the last mistake she'll ever make.
I take another step. I'm close now. Dangerously close.
"And I will end you in every possible way," I promise, my voice dropping lower. "I will tear down everything you've ever built. I will make you pay for every tear she shed, for every second you terrified her, for that single drop of blood on her throat."
My entire universe has narrowed to her, to the glass, to her eyes looking for the split second to put her down without hurting Della.
"Now. LET. HER. GO."
I see the shift in her gaze, the realization that she's lost. The manipulative mask falls and a look of pure, nihilistic rage take its place. Her hand tenses on the glass.
“No, Dorian!” she hisses, her voice a venomous promise. "I will end her. Now she dies."
And in that instant, all hell breaks loose.
* * *
Della
