The word tears out of her like a sob. Tears spill down her cheeks, silent and devastating. She looks at me like I'm a monster.
Because I am.
This is what I do. What I've always done. I see weakness and I exploit it. I find the softest, most vulnerable spot and I press until people break or bend to my will.
I just never hated myself for it before.
Kristen's tears keep falling. She doesn't wipe them away. Doesn't look away from me either. Her eyes hold mine, and in them I see it. The exact moment whatever fragile thing existed between us shatters completely.
She's not just scared of me now.
She's broken.
And I did that. I broke her on purpose because I was scared of wanting to kiss her.
Coward. Fucking coward.
"The room is yours for the night," I say. My voice sounds wrong. Hollow. "Lily too. We'll discuss logistics tomorrow."
I turn and walk out of the living room.
I don't look back.
Behind me, I hear a single, shattered sob.
It follows me all the way to my office, where I pour three fingers of whiskey and drink it like water. Then another. Then another.
The alcohol doesn't help.
Nothing helps.
At 3 AM, I'm still sitting in the dark, replaying the exact moment Kristen's eyes went dead. Memorizing it alongside every other piece of evidence that proves what I've always known.
Love is a liability.
And I just proved exactly why I should never, ever let myself feel it.
Kristen
I watch Lily's chest rise and fall, the steady rhythm that used to be my only peace. Now it feels like a countdown.
Thirty days.
I press my back against the headboard, knees pulled to my chest like I'm trying to make myself smaller. Invisible. The way Jack always wanted me.
Nico's words replay in my head like a horror movie I can't pause.
My stomach lurches. I press my fist against my mouth to keep from making a sound that might wake Lily.
I'm such a fool.
The signs were everywhere. Guards, guns, security protocol rules I've learned since day one. The contract saying that I wasn't allowed to share nothing that has to do with the family to other people out of the compound.
I saw it all and convinced myself it was just... rich people stuff. Eccentric billionaire behavior. White-collar crimes at worst.
Because you wanted it to be true, that cruel voice in my head whispers. Because you were desperate.
Desperate and stupid. Story of my life.
