Page 80 of Trapping His Darling

My confusion was palpable as I stared at her. “Tiffany, how did you-”

She interrupted me with a dismissive wave of her hand, her voice dripping with amusement. “Oh, Viktor, it wasn’t all that difficult. Roger underestimated me.”

I sank into a nearby chair, my exhaustion momentarily overshadowed by the sheer astonishment of her reappearance. “But… where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for days.”

Her smirk widened as she leaned forward, her gaze fixed on mine. “Let me tell you a little story, Viktor, about my escape from Roger.”

And so, she began her tale, recounting the events that had transpired during her captivity, and her subsequent escape. Her words painted a vivid picture of cunning and resourcefulness, of a woman determined to outwit her captor and find her way back to safety.

She described how she had seized an opportunity when Roger had let his guard down, how she had used hersurroundings to her advantage, navigating the treacherous paths of Italy’s underbelly with a single-minded purpose.

But it was the revelation that followed, that sent a shiver down my spine. As she concluded her account, she leaned in closer, her eyes locked onto mine, her voice a soft, chilling whisper.

“Viktor,” she said softly, “there’s something you should know about me. I’m a serial killer.”

I blinked, acting caught off guard by her words. “What?”

Her smirk returned, her voice sweet like honey. “I collect their genitals in jars, Viktor.”

A chill ran down my spine as her words hung in the air. She finally told me, and I was seeing the darkness inside of her. It was a macabre confession, one that should have sent shockwaves through my senses. But I knew mymilyywell, and all I saw was the woman I had fallen for, the woman I believed was too sweet to be capable of such darkness.

“You can’t be serious,” I finally managed to say, my disbelief evident.

It was one thing to know her secret, but for her to tell me so blatantly? She had more balls than most men in the Brotherhood. Which made her an excellent queen.

Tiffany’s smirk grew, and she chuckled softly. “Oh, Viktor, let me show you something when we return home.”

I made sure Tiffany’s revelation had left me looking in a state of disarray, torn between the woman I had come to love, and the dark secrets she claimed to harbor. It was a storm of emotions that raged within me, and I couldn’t shake the need to uncover the truth.

The reality was far different. My love wanted to live in a world of her own making. A fantasy in which she was a sleuthy killer, with a darkness to match my own. I would allow her to keep her notions.

As days passed, I found myself drawn to Tiffany’s enigmatic persona, curious about the darkness she had hinted at, trying to see it all instead of realizing after the fact that she had a hand in it. She sensed my internal struggle, and one evening, she led me to the deepest, most secluded part of our compound; the one place I hadn’t ever seen her go in until now.

The room was dimly lit, its walls adorned with an eerie collection of jars, each containing something macabre. My heart quickened as I took in the grotesque display. It was a chilling testament to Tiffany’s words; a collection of her past deeds.

How the hell did she get all these in here without anyone noticing?

I had my suspicions and, the more I thought back, the more I realized, I’d missed a lot. The red flags of our marriage raced through my mind as the pieces fell into place. I knew she had a hand in these deaths, but not that she was actively killing people.

“My soldier?”

“Dead by my hands,” she whispered.

“My ex-fiance?”

“Also me.” She shrugged.

“My father?” I held my breath. I hoped she had a hand in his illness, it would be her ultimate declaration of love.

“I don’t need to swallow poison to know that it’s toxic.” Her glare chilled me to the core. “If I could do it again, I would make it hurt more.”

I shuddered, desire running through my body.

Tiffany watched me closely, her eyes filled with a mixture of trepidation and defiance. She had brought me here to prove her claim, to show me the darkness that lurked within her.

That we were one and the same.

I approached one of the jars cautiously, its contents obscured by a thick, murky liquid. My hand trembling, I reached forthe lid and twisted it open. The pungent scent that wafted out churned my stomach.

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