I crouched around the corner and waited, heart pounding against my ribs. Sweat dripped into my eyes.
Then, they left. Clipped footsteps retreated toward the elevator. Doors dinged shut.
Now.
I slipped inside.
Her eyes fluttered open when she saw me. Recognition. Fear. I smiled coldly.
She didn’t deserve him. None of them did.
Without hesitation, I grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her mouth.
She fought. Weakly. Pathetically. Her limbs flailed beneath the blanket, her eyes wide with panic.
But I held steady.
And then… stillness.
The silence afterward was deafening.
I stood over her, chest heaving. My pulse thundered in my ears.
Quickly, I scanned the room. No cameras. No witnesses. Nothing to tie me here.
I wiped the doorknob with my sleeve, tossed the pillow back in place, and slipped out into the night.
The cool air hit me like a slap, but I welcomed it. I had done what needed to be done.
No one would ever know.
Or so I thought.
Chapter 35
Balthazar
Hours later, the doctor entered the waiting room, his face drawn and ashen.
My heart dropped.
“She didn’t make it,” he said quietly, his voice thick with regret.
I took a step back, my mind refusing to process his words. “She what?”
“She died, sir. Your wife…” He hesitated, as if hoping to soften the blow. “We don’t know what happened. She was stable—her vitals were strong, and color had returned to her face. The nurse and I stepped into the hallway to confer… and when we returned, she was gone.”
Something inside me snapped.
“What did you do to her?” I lunged, slamming him back against the wall, one hand clutching his coat.
“We tried to save her!” he cried, panicked. “She was going to make it, I swear!”
I ripped my hands from his chest and threw back my head in a scream so raw it seemed to shake the walls.
“Sir! Please—keep your voice down!”
The words meant nothing. I wasn’t listening.
