Nila
SLEEP.
It was the only peace I got these days.
Peace from my fracturing soul. Peace from breaking.
They’d won.
They’d finally broken me. Finally proven that no one had unlimited resources to remain strong. That we all break eventually.
I wasn’t proud of myself.
I hated that I’d lost.
But at least Vaughn was safe. At least I’d done right by him.
I had no weapons to defend myself. No energy to push aside the dresser and protect myself. My belief that I could ruin them disappeared into dust.
Nothingmattered anymore.
I was theirs to do with what they wanted. And my heart was officially empty.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror showed a terrifying transformation. Hollows existed in my cheeks, shadows ringed my eyes, and the blood on my chest glowed with crimson fire.
But it was my missing hair that hurt the most.
Ragged and shorn, my glossy black strands were now in tatters. They hung over my ears, all different lengths, hacked into dysfunction by Daniel’s sheers. I no longer looked like Nila Weaver, daughter of Tex, sister to Vaughn, empress to a company worth millions. I looked like a runaway, a slave, a girl who’d seen death and no longer existed with the living.
I look ready to pay the Final Debt.
I feel ready to pay the final price.
There was no power left inside me.
Staring into my black eyes, I shivered at my listlessness.
They didn’t even let me say goodbye.
The moment the last strand hit the floor, Marquise had marched Vaughn from the room without a backward glance. I’d never seen V so wild or so helpless.
In two seconds, he’d disappeared.
I’d wanted to cry, to sob, to snap.
But I’d just stood there until Cut gave me permission to leave.
I was in a billion pieces.
How can I ever find my way back when I have no more glue to fix myself?
Bowing my head, I hated the unfamiliarity, the frigid breeze whistling around the back of my neck. My head was light as air and heavy with thunderclouds.
I’d lost everything. My backbone. My faith. They’d stolen more from me than just vanity—they’d stolen my right to myself.
I didn’t look away as I washed and tended. I couldn’t stop staring at my new face.
I didn’t have kind words to bolster my courage. I didn’t have hope to patch up my weeping heart. All I had was emptiness and the bone-deep desire to go to sleep and forget.
