- 13.
Julian’s leave ended. After his confession, his aloof facade crumbled. He’d cling to me,
refusing to go to work, calling it “recharging.” “Fully charged! I’m off to work.” “I’ll take you somewhere special after.” My eyes lit up. I had a hunch about his plans, a flutter of excitement
in my chest. If he confessed again, my answer
might be different. After he left, as I closed the
door, an arm shot through the gap, blocking the
lock. Ethan’s eyes glared at me through the
crack. I was paralyzed with fear as he pushed
the door open. A predatory smile twisted his
lips. “Do you know how frantic I’ve been
looking for you?” “I wondered where you’d
disappeared to. So, you hooked up with him?” I
struggled to breathe, typing quickly: “How did
you find me? Who told you where I lived?” If I
could speak, my voice would be as cold and
unforgiving as my gaze. I tried to push him out,
but he grabbed my wrists. His eyes turned.
cruel. “You’re fighting me? For him?” He
shoved me onto the sofa. “You’re driving me
insane, Amelia.” He jabbed a finger at his
<
chest. “Do you know how much this hurts? He’ll
pay for this.” Was he threatening Julian?
Desperate, I forced out the words, my vocal
cords straining. “What… do… you… mean?” A
chilling smile spread across his face. “What do
you think? Putting a hole in his chest. How does
that sound?” My last shred of sanity snapped. I
bit into his shoulder, wanting to draw blood. He
was even more unhinged. He ripped at my
clothes. “Amelia, you’re mine. I won’t let you
betray me.” I fought back, tearing a chunk of
flesh from his shoulder. “Get… off… me…” The
sound of ripping fabric stopped him. Trembling,
his gaze fell on the scars that littered my body.
“Who did this? Amelia, who did this?” Rage
surged through me. Ignoring the pain in my
throat, I poured out my hatred. “Who do you
think? My dear brother. The man I once loved.”
“This scar, from a knife when I first arrived.”
“This one, from a branding iron.” “This one,
from falling on broken glass. A shard went
straight through me.” “And this…” I traced the
thin scar on my abdomen, meeting his gaze.
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“Did you know we had a child? They ripped my
womb out as punishment.” How could I not hate
him? His eyes were vacant, bordering on
madness. He mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.
I’m sorry.” “Your apologies are worthless.” He
collapsed, defeated, his eyes filled with despair.
He finally understood. There was no going back.
Nausea surged. My throat burned. I vomited
blood, staining his jacket. Under his horrified
gaze, I fainted again.