"Don't you think the AC in here is too cold, Elias?" Kathleen's voice cut through my thoughts. She squirmed on her stool, deliberately hiking up her skirt. I looked away in disgust.
Why did these women think such cheap tricks would work on me?
None of them could compare to Serenity.
I had to admit the pull of a fated mate. I could never quite refuse her. Even when I was supposed to hate her, my mind kept returning to her tender care during our time together, her thoughtfulness, her beautiful smile.
More than once, I had wondered: was the warmth she showed me real? Or just a carefully crafted performance to lower my guard?
When had she started betraying me?
The alcohol burned my throat but couldn't untangle the mess of questions in my head.
"Why won't you talk to me, Elias?" Kathleen's hand landed on my thigh. She leaned in as if to whisper something, but her lips angled strangely.
Staged.
I saw through it immediately. From a distance, this angle would look like a passionate kiss.
Behind me, I heard the faintclickof a camera. I scanned the room and spotted the paparazzo in a booth.
Damn.Those photos would get out. Serenity might even see them?—
At that thought, my breath caught for a moment.
"Why don't we go upstairs? I have a hotel room." Kathleen pressed her luck, draping herself across me with bedroom eyes.
"Get lost."
I used an Alpha command. Dominance washed over her like a tide. Her face went white, and she slid off the stool, falling to her knees. She trembled violently.
"I—I?—"
"I saidget lost!"
She scrambled away, along with her hired photographer.
My mood was ruined. I threw down some cash and walked out of that place reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume. The night wind was cold, but it couldn't clear my head. I had come here to drink away my troubles, only to leave more frustrated than before.
I walked to the parking garage and found my car. After the paparazzi incident, my first instinct was to go home to Serenity. But when I opened the door and saw the bouquet of white roses on the passenger seat—the ones I'd bought for Liv—I froze.
Today was Liv's birthday.
Six months. She had been in that cold ocean for six months.
And all this time, even knowing who killed her, I still hadn't avenged her. Sometimes when I came home and found Serenity asleep on the couch waiting for me, I couldn't help but drape a blanket over her to keep her warm. Then I'd catch myself, hate that I'd done it, and flee in guilt.
I could never forget Serenity kneeling at my feet, crying, swearing she'd never touched Liv. Her tears were so clear, so pure. Watching them roll down her face had made my own heart ache.
"Believe me, Elias. I'm innocent."
Because she said that, I believed her. Even though I'd arrived at the cliff just in time to see her push Liv into the sea.
And what was the result?
The team I sent out never recovered Liv's body, but they did find her phone. It contained the last message she ever received—an invitation to meet at the cliffs. From Serenity.
She had lied to me.
