Page 28 of Darkest Deception

He turns and looks ready to walk out, but at the very last minute, he turns his head, letting me have a glimpse of his sharp jaw. And then he is gone.

The fluidity at which he moves, the soundless steps despite his large figure as he rushes off, leaves me breathless.

As soon as I see him jump, I run towards the balcony, shutting the doors and locking them. I slide down the doors to the floor, then pull my knees up to my chest.

He left.

Thank God he left.

I wouldn’t have been able to escape him if he stayed.

My head drops on my knees. Everything is spiralling out of my control.

I am tired of being who I am.

How much do I have to bear while being a puppet to my fear?

To my mother?

To what everyone expects of me?

I wish I could dig into my chest and rip out my heart and let myself be free of this slow, painful demise.

I rise to my feet and walk to the bathroom on unsteady legs, shedding all my clothes on the way. In the shower, I rub at my skin as if the steaming hot water can erase me. I rub, rub, and rub until my skin is red and raw, the scars burning and burning, but I don’t feel satisfied.

A lone tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away.

A monster like me shouldn’t hope for good things. I don’t deserve it when people have suffered because of me.

9

“He was what?” My voice carries pure shock.

Mom’s expression is one of disappointment rather than pity or even sadness.

She just told me she got news that Darci’s best friend has died.

Like… he is dead. Not alive anymore.

Darci has been put under lockdown, and the Antas have called off the engagement. The only heir to the Anta Group won’t be put in danger. He was with him that night, according to Mum, and he could easily have been murdered in his place.

Investigations will now begin.

Could it have been… my stalker?

Did he do it in warning to Darci? Am I being delusional to think he did it because Darci touched me wrong?

Mum doesn’t like this. She’s missed her chance to marry me off to secure her position in society. Isn’t that what Dad did with Aurora? Am I going to be met with a similar fate?

“Mum, aren’t you tired of trying to be somewhere we don’t belong? Look at Aurora. She—”

“Don’t speak her name in this house!” she shrieks.

Red eyes glare at me, stopping me mid-bite. I swallow the avocado toast the cook prepared for us. Toast, fresh jam, green smoothies, pancakes, and so much more food that will be wasted sits on the table. Ever since Mum came back, she has kept up the expenses as if Dad is alive and bringing in money to keep up with them.

I’ve never visited his grave. His funeral was an event for people to play inspector, guessing why and how he died. Mum hid in the four walls of her bedroom for the first couple of days after it, then fled to Glasgow.

“What do you mean? Why can’t I?”

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