Page 29 of Seduce & Destroy

“…her joy brought smiles to the saddest sods,” Tilly’s husband murmured through his speech. “But she is brightest when she is in front of Georgia. God, her eyes glazed over when she was in sight. My baby…”

Tears streamed, and through my blurred eyes, I saw a darkened figure sit down beside me and placed a black handkerchief on my lap, each corner inscribed with a decorative ‘K’. I blinked a few times, and I was grateful for the momentary distraction, but then I examined the hand that now gripped my knee in comfort, it made me shiver. I knew that hand and I loathed it.

It belonged to Logan Novelli. My ex-husband.

I sniffed aggressively in the most unladylike way and shifted to be closer to Father.

“The girl over there told me to give this to you. You looked like you needed it.” He said in a tone the least bit appropriate for a funeral. Did he even know her?

But then he pointed at the girl where she sat in the back corner of the Church by the entrance. Kenna. She came.

“I’m sorry about Tilly, she was a nice girl.” Logan had very little empathy, a quality that Father admired about him, but I despised.

I tried to focus on the service, but Logan continued to whisper in my ear. He was a physically powerful man, six foot four, athletic and trigger-happy as an ex-military man who was discharged for unlawful roughness. “Did you miss me? I bet–”

“SSHHH!”

Heads turned toward me, my cheeks blushed but anger surged into me when I saw the smug and confident refrain on Logan’s face. I wanted to slap him. Time and place, Laney. Time and place.

Maybe I didn’t want to sit here and succumb to my grief in front of the entire estate and my family, but I certainly will not allow Logan Novelli to ruin the remembrance of my dearest companion and cousin. It should only be a shame on him for his behaviour. However, in my world, a woman’s moral character was dictated by the value they have to the men that surround them. I will not be held accountable to the assholery of this man due to our prior arrangement.

I felt the anger heaving and boiling over, but my face remained still. I learnt that from Father. In fact, I mimicked him now as he blankly stared ahead, unaware or inconsiderate to the vile man that he let into my life.

Logan fisted my dress between his fingers, lifting it with it. I attempted to lean away from him, but my leg was already pressed against Father’s.

I was stuck. Still, I yanked my dress from his grip, but stilled when I saw the rose quartz encrusted band that sat on his finger—our wedding ring. I threw mine in a lake years ago. Why did he still have it on?

The Novelli Dynasty was an infamous Italian mafia family that resided on the Southernly coast of England. They played a vital part in Ravencroft victory against the Karsteins after the fissure as our silent partner. It was pure strategy to wed the two of us, but we never consummated the marriage. Not for lack of trying on his part.

It’s a loss that I’m not certain Father has recovered from and was likely the reason he didn’t seem to care about Logan’s handsy pandering now.

“Get. Off.” I grit out.

He returned a coy smirk. His grip tightened on my leg.

“Are you done pissing me off?” I asked.

“Never.”

Quickly, I reached into my sock to retrieve a little knife and stabbed it into his hand atop my knee. His blood dripped onto my dress as the funeral service was playing its last song. Thank fuck, I’m wearing black.

“Bitch,” He cursed, but still didn’t move his hand.

I moved to stab him again. But he grabbed my wrist, blood trickling down his arm and smeared on mine.

“Do not.” He warned. If the wound hurt, he didn’t let it show, but returned his arm to his lap, mopping up the blood with his black pocket square.

The last note of the song marked the end of the service. Quiet chatter filled the room again as most people got up to leave. I was so occupied with Logan’s unexpected presence that I hadn’t noticed Tilly’s family in front of me, huddled together, exchanging hugs and kisses now as tears still readily flowed.

I went to stand too, but Logan blocked my way, turning his entire chest to face me. Anger reignited in my heart, and I shoved at his shoulder, kicked his legs and did everything besides yelling in his ear. I wanted to slap him.

So, I did. Well, I tried to.

In that moment, Logan was pulled back on the pew roughly and a fist entered his face.

I flinched, but not in fear. I looked up to see the attacker had long dark brown, almost black, hair that shimmered brown in certain lights and fell to just below her shoulders. A smile appeared on my face without thought. Seeing Logan get punched was the best moment of my life, I’m not even sad that I wasn’t the one who threw it.

My smile turned into a full on anxiety laugh as Kenna offered an extended hand to help me step over Logan who had crumpled to the floor from the weight of the punch—total smackdown. I’m impressed.

---