Page 135 of Darkest Deception

Her eyes are on me. Waiting.

“How did you get the footage then, Ambrose? You surely had to go looking for it, didn’t you? The email that was written? That sounded exactly like you. I have been reading your emails for months.”

She looks away from me, and it gives me my answer.

I grab her throat, twisting the knife so it points right at the jugular vein on her neck.

Her eyes snap to me.

But she doesn’t look away.

My own hand trembles.

What have you done, Ambrose?

“Given your history, I should have known better.”

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Pushing my arm away, she tries to hug me, but I don’t let her.

It hurts.

Fuck, it aches.

“I gave you everything I had,” I grit out, feeling my heart hardening inside of me. Or whatever is left of it.

Tightening my hand around the knife, I dig it into her skin slowly. Her sobs fill the room, my own breaths falling in short pants.

The shaking doesn’t stop.

I can’t do it.

The minute I see a drop of blood, my hand fails.

She shudders and whispers, “Helia, I lo—”

The door bursts open, and people in black uniforms flood the room, filling it with the crackles of the walkie-talkie and masked faces. One after the other, special forces surround me with guns raised.

“Drop your weapon,” the one in front of me warns.

“I didn’t do it…” Ambrose’s voice trails off, and I glance at her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her body falling into my arms, unconscious.

“Him! It was him!” Leysa Torre walks inside, pointing her finger at me, and my heart shatters to the floor.

My eyes trace the red puddle around Ambrose. She must have fallen onto something sharp. I look around the room and spot her smashed laptop. Her bedroom is in complete disarray, and her doorknob is almost broken off. Everything is out of place in this bedroom that belongs to the most tidy woman. The signs of struggle are all around the bedroom. I recall her slurred speech and the shakiness in her body.

As realisation sets in, my heart freezes in my body, not working anymore.

“Drop your weapons. This is your last warning,” the muffled command comes, but my eyes don’t move from Ambrose’s prone figure on the floor.

She… didn’t do it.

“The footage showed him killing my husband…” I don’t hear anything that comes out of Leysa’s mouth after that sentence.

I fucked up.

I fucked up so bad to the point I hurt the only woman who loved me. Who cherished me.

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