The first honest admission.
But I need more. I need him to say it explicitly, to confess to hiring the arsonists, to acknowledge the deaths.
“How did you—” I start, then stop, like I’m afraid to ask. “How did you even arrange something like that?”
Derek’s smile turns predatory. “You’d be amazed at what money can buy, Marley. A couple of shell companies, some cash transactions, and suddenly you have very motivated contractors who don’t ask questions.” He examines his manicured nails with casual indifference. “The fire was supposed to be controlled. Just enough to send a message, destroy some property, make that asshole suffer a little.”
“But people died,” I murmur, genuine horror coloring my voice because I don’t have to fake this reaction—innocent older people.
Derek waves a hand dismissively. “Collateral damage. Not my problem. If that retirement village had proper fire suppression systems and proper evacuation protocols, those people would’ve been fine. Really, if you think about it, it’s the facility’s fault for cutting corners.”
The casualness of what he is saying steals my breath.
He’s not just admitting to arson, he’s justifying murder and blaming the victims. He is showing absolutely no remorse for destroying lives because his ego couldn’t handle being rejected, even though he rejected me. It seems his mind has twisted what actually went down when he dumped me. But I get on with it, because rehashing what happened isn’t going to get this job done.
“You hired people,” I say slowly, making sure the wire catches every word. “To set the fire. At Sunset Manor. Where Nitro’s grandmother was.”
“Obviously.” Derek rolls his eyes as if I’m being deliberately slow. “What? You think I did it myself?Please.I’m not getting my hands dirty with that kind of shit. That’s what desperate people are for. People who need money badly enough that they’ll do anything. It’s actually fascinating how easy it is to find someone willing to commit a felony for the right price.”
My hands ball into fists under the table. “And the people who died? The people who are still recovering? That doesn’t bother you at all?”
“Why would it?” Derek leans back, supremely confident. “They’re all old, Marley. They would’ve died soon enough anyway. I just… accelerated the timeline. Besides, this isn’t about them. This is about teaching your biker boyfriend that there are consequences for stepping out of his lane.”
I shake my head, completely and utterly confused, because before all this craziness started, Derek broke up withme.He didn’t wantme.So, what the hell is this even about anyway?
“I don’t even understand what this is all for, Derek? We broke up because you were ashamed of me. You didn’t want me. Hell, I’m not sure if you even liked me in the end. So why are you going after Nitro if you don’t want me? It makes no sense?”
He laughs.
Not loud.
Not amused.
Just a low, bitter exhale that twists my stomach. “You really don’t get it, Marley.”
His eyes lift to mine, cold, assessing, like I’m not a person but a piece of inventory he’s evaluating. “I didn’t break up with you. I released you.” The words hit like a slap. “I was done,” he continues, shrugging as if this is all perfectly reasonable. “You stopped being useful. You stopped being… manageable. But that didn’t make you notmineanymore.” A sick chill crawls down my spine. “You were stillmine. My failure. My project. My reminder of everything wrong with me. Everything I didn’t want to look at. And you accepted that. You wore it like a second skin.Thatwas the agreement, Marley.”
My voice comes out as a broken whisper, “Agreement? What agreement?”
“The unspoken one,” he says, his eyes narrowing. “Where you stay small. Where you stay right where I left you. Where you never,ever,rise above the place I put you.”
My breath hitches. “Derek… that’s sick.”
He ignores what I said as if it doesn’t reach him. “But then that asshole walks in…” Derek spits, the mask slipping, his venom finally showing. “He walks in, and suddenly you’re all shiny. Confident. A woman worth wanting. You don’t look broken anymore. You look…” he sneers, “… desirable.”
My throat tightens. “That’s not a crime.”
“It is!”he snaps. “When it makesmelook like a fool. When it makeseveryonethink I let go of something better than me. When he…” he jabs a finger in midair as if he is pointing toward Nitro, though I know he’s not behind me, “… steps in and turns you into some fucking prize.”
I jolt back into the seat, nausea rising up my throat. “So, you tried to ruin him?”
“No,” he says coldly. “I tried to correct the narrative. Someone needed to knock him off that pedestal. Someone needed to remind him, and you,exactlywhere you belong.” His lips lift in a cruel smirk. “And it sure as hell isn’t byhisside.”
And now I see him for what he really is, empty. Hollow. A shell of entitlement and ego with nothing of value inside.
“Derek,” I say carefully, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. “You’re confessing to hiring arsonists. To murder. To—”
“Oh, please!” Derek waves his hand dismissively. “There’s no proof. Shell companies, cash payments, burner phones, I’m not an idiot, Marley. Nobody can trace anything back to me. And even if they could, even if someone tried to say I was involved, it’s my word against some hired thugs who’ll say anything to reduce their sentences.”
