Did they leave him alone? He often got cold easily. So did they wrap him well?
My sobs echoed in the room, turning into struggling gasps as an invisible hand tightened around my neck, grief caging me, weaving into my veins and twisting into something hot and dark.
I shot to my feet, my vision blurred with tears and fury as I ran for the door, yanking at the handle. But it was locked. The door was locked. Like a prisoner, he actually locked me up.
“No!” I screamed, pounding my fist against the polished wood with every little energy I had left in me. “Open the door! Let me out!”
I didn’t care that my fingers were beginning to bruise. I didn’t care for my knuckles that were splitting open as my blood smeared the door. I just kept on knocking, wailing, thrashing…again and again.
I only stopped when exhaustion dug its claws into my bones, my sobs and wails quieted into shaky and ragged gasps. And the only memory that kept replaying in my head was Kenzo’s body.
Then, in the quiet of the moment, I heard footsteps just beyond the door, then murmurs, the sound of boots scraping against the floor.
I arched my back off the door immediately, bolting to my feet. I took a step away when the knob twisted with a silent click. And a few seconds later, as if the person was taking their time, the door finally made a low whine as it was pushed open.
Zaghan stepped in.
The sheer sight of him sent violent tremors through my body, the rage in my veins so hot it could have melted steel.
He stood adorned with his expensive pants and dress shirt, covered in his signature cologne that often made me dizzy and sway. But this time, all I saw was blood, Kenzo’s blood.
The man before me wasn’t the one who often kissed me with quiet possession, the one who liked to murmur low threats against my lips just to make me shiver.
This one here was the monster who took everything away from me in one night. Everything. All of it.
Rage reignited in my chest, so raw and so consuming it stripped away the last of my restraint. And I charged at him,fist flying, hands clawing at his chest and face, nails digging into skin, scream raw and broken.
I wanted death, and I wanted it now. But before that, I would kill him first.
“I’ll kill you!” My screams were mixed with broken sobs as tears ran down my cheeks. “I-I’ll fucking kill you. I swear to god, I’ll kill you!”
And as if finally bored with my tantrums, he lazily lifted his hand, catching my wrist with ease and yanking me off him as if I was nothing more than a mere inconvenience.
And that….that made me snap.
I turned away from him and charged to the room, weaving my way frantically to my section of the walk-in closet. I latched onto the handle of one of the drawers, pulling it open. I flung out underwear until silver catches the light.
My hand trembled as I lifted the dagger into my hand, standing up without hesitation.
When I dashed back out, he was still standing in the same spot, hands tucked in his pocket, lazy eyes on me, waiting, daring.
He didn’t flinch when his gaze caught the dagger. If anything, a flicker of amusement passed his expression. That only fuelled my rage.
When I charged at him, he didn’t dodge the attack, didn’t even move a muscle when I pressed the silver to his throat. Not even a little gasp of breath when it opened the skin over his Adam’s apple and a thin line of red surfaced.
His lips curled slowly, then a quiet chuckle devoid of mirth, singing of something deeply rooted in vice, broke out.
The mockery in his eyes was a blade slicing through me like an open wound. As if he knew I couldn’t do it. As if he knew I was weak and pathetic. A fucking fool who couldn’t protect theone thing that kept her company even when she was broken and undesirable.
Blood for blood. An eye for an eye. Death for death. That was the rule, right? The law. Yet I just stood there, my hand trembling, leaving him to keep breathing when a little pressure could have taken away his life just the way he took Kenzo’s away.
Slowly, dark gaze trapping me in place, his hand lifted, covering mine that still held the dagger to his throat, pressing hard against it. Then in a voice low and cold, he said. “The next time you put a blade to my throat, dig deeper, make bleed or I swear, I’ll fuck all your holes with it, Elizabeth.”
I gasped softly, the grave look in his eyes sending a chill down my spine. My grip on the dagger loosened as I staggered backwards, the blade clattering to the floor with a resounding thud.
I really was nothing against him. His life was literally just in my hand. A little pressure would have ended him. But I stood there and made a fool out of myself.
“Why?” I whispered, the silent tears tracking down my cheeks.“Why did you kill him?”
