Page 105 of Sinful Bride

She tries to tackle me, but I throw my weight against her so I roll more on top of her than under her. We both topple to the ground; she takes most of the scrapes while I take her vicious scratching as she flails at me.

Once I’m able to untangle myself, I do my best to shove her away and put some distance between us. It only lasts for a few seconds before she lunges at me again.

“I’m gonna kill you!”

I swat her claws away and jab her in the nose. Blood starts trickling from one nostril as she flails to protect her face.

She needs to stop. That’s the only reason why I swipe a leg under hers, slam my fist in her chest, and use the momentum to knock her to the ground.

This is getting ridiculous.

“How did you track me down?” I ask with a calmness that surprises even me. “You don’t have my number.”

“I’m not telling you shit, you bitch—aahh!”

She clenches her teeth and hisses in pain when I press my foot to the side of her ribs. I must have busted something with that last move. Things move beneath my sole that aren’t supposed to move.

I press my foot against that wound a little harder. “I asked, How did you track me down?”

“Your idiot husband!” Brittany smacks my leg.

I ignore the sudden flip my stomach does. Pasha is no traitor, especially not to me. “Explain.”

“Get off!”

“Tell me, and I might let you up.”

If looks could kill, her glare would have me in a heap. “Pasha owns everything, yeah? Through his company. The same one my family worked for.”

I frown. “As consultants.”

“Yeah. Security development consultants.” For some reason, she thinks this is actually funny and starts to laugh. “Your dumbass husband forgot about the systems my family put in place in all his fronts. I have the codes to everything. And he can’t kick me out because?—”

“Your family built the systems.”

I keep my word and remove my foot from her ribs. It’s a lot to take in—realizing that the woman who’s hated me since high school is using Pasha to hunt me down and ruin my life. Maybe even take it.

And that’s when it occurs to me.

When the pieces of this fucked up puzzle suddenly click together.

Brittany screams in genuine pain when I kick her—hard—in those same ribs I already cracked.

“You knew all along!” I don’t bother asking. Why bother? We both know the answer. “You knew exactly what Conrad was doing! You helped him!”

She opens her mouth to retort, but I don’t let her. I just kick her in the stomach and relish the way she heaves and curls up in pain.

“You fucking bitch.” Now, I’m the one seething. “You let him in. You told him where to find me. Here you are, playing the victim, when you’re the one who’s been trying to ruin my life from the start.” I scoff. “You even roped my own parents into it. Fucking incredible.”

No words from her, for once. She’s too busy coughing and wiping blood from her face.

I crouch down so she can hear me loud and clear. “You wanna know the fucked-up part? He’d be alive if it weren’t for you. Conrad would probably be home in your arms if you weren’t such a vindictive bitch.”

Brittany coughs and wheezes some more. “Wh…where is he?”

“Fuck if I know. Even if I did know, it would probably only be a piece of him.”

Her glare wavers. For once, there’s actual fear in her eyes.

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