I know I need to temper this jealousy so I don't scare her, but when I see her so relaxed, so pleased with everything she managed to pull off with this event, when I see her glowing like that, I don't want anyone else enjoying her this way.
No one deserves her light. Absolutely no one.
Chapter 43
Roxy
We left Marco's party after the cake was served and after Damien insisted we dance to a few more songs. I swear, if he could've branded "PRIVATE PROPERTY" across my forehead, he would have.
"You received a package," Tirana says as we walk into the house.
"Me?" I ask, and dread settles heavily in my chest.
"Yes. At least that's what the courier said."
Damien glares at the package and steps in front of me.
"Get Vasili," he tells her curtly.
Tirana nods once and goes to fetch him.
The box is brown with a large white ribbon on top. There's no note attached, but somehow I know who it's from, and my heart starts hammering against my ribs.
He warned me, didn't he?He warned me what would happen if I went through with this wedding.
And, as if reading my thoughts, Damien makes a frustrated sound and turns to me.
"I'm guessing if I ask you to go upstairs, I'll see steam coming out of your ears?"
"If you don't want to see what I'm really capable of, open the box, Damien."
For a few moments, the world slows down. Then I hear Damien curse. He lunges in front of me to block my view, but he's a fraction of a second too late.
Because I see everything.
Brown hair. Closed eyes. A slightly oval face with a mole above her upper lip. Olive skin with a grayish tint.
I'm going to be sick.
My hand flies to my mouth, but I know I won't make it to the bathroom, and my body heaves at the bottom of the stairs.
Damien's beside me, gathering my hair and rubbing my back gently. I don't know how long it takes me to empty my stomach on the first step, but I know no chemical solution will erase the image of that woman's head resting on bags of ice.
"This is my fault," I tell Damien.
"No, it's his," he replies.
God, that woman is dead because of me. That woman has family who are probably losing their minds right now not knowing where she is.
What have I done?
Damien lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bedroom, where he sets me gently on the bed. I pull my knees to my chest and try desperately to breathe, to keep the panic attack from dragging me under.
What have I done?
"Roxanne, this isn't your fault." His hands cup my face, but I can't tear my eyes away from the spot I'm staring at.
Of course it's my fault. I could've stopped this stupid plan. I could've found another solution.
