Page 84 of Marriage of Revenge

“I don’t believe your act,” I snarl. “Because you knew. Guilt may fucking eat you alive. I don’t care.”

If she feels guilt now, it's because the truth's finally caught up. Because she knows exactly whose death warrant she signed with her silence.

“You killed her.”

I release her chin but she holds my gaze - defiant even naked, even breaking. Fucking typical. "You showed him the letter."

"I didn't." Her protest comes weak as her excuses. A laugh tears from my throat like broken glass - always the innocent princess, the precious ballerina. Too pure to get her hands dirty, preferring to dance away from ugly truths.

But I lived in that truth. Breathed it. Bathed in flame until it forged me into something stronger. Something that could rise from the ashes she helped create. Something that could make her pay.

Without her betrayal, my mother would still be breathing.

Isabella might not have pulled the trigger, but her hands drip just as red. She knew exactly what choosing daddy's side would cost - knew the price would be paid in my mother's blood.

"Read it." My voice comes quiet as an executioner's blade. Precise. Final.

Because the Beast remembers everything.

Every reason she needs to burn.

Isabella wraps herself in sheets that still smell like us - like every lie I whispered against her skin last night. When she shivers again, something in me wants to grab that fallen blanket, cover her like I did after making her come apart in my arms. Fucking weakness. Last night... christ, last night I let myself forget. Let the Beast believe in redemption while I was buried inside her, while she was crying my name like a prayer. For one stupid moment, I actually thought maybe...

"Read it." My voice carries ice now, not heat. "Or are you too much of a coward? Too much your father's daughter?"

The words burn my tongue like acid. Yeah, I fucked her. Made it good enough to ruin her for anyone else. But that was strategy, wasn't it? The higher they climb, the harder they fall. Last night wasn't about pleasure - wasn't about how perfect she felt under me, how she made the Beast forget about revenge. It was about making sure she can't escape this marriage. Can't run from what's coming. I'm going to tear her father's empire apart brick by bloody brick, and she's going to help me do it. Then I'll lock her away in this fortress's forgotten wing, let her rot in a cage less golden than daddy's mansion.

But first, she needs to read those words out loud. Shit, I'll even hear whatever bullshit story she must have told herself to sleep at night. Whatever lies make her feel innocent of my mother's blood.

Because I know what my mother whispered before she died.

Her name.

Isabella.

And the truth that's going to break us both.

She. Fucking. Killed. Her.

No matter what she says.

My mother knew exactly what world she was dancing in. Wasn't some evil stepmother from Isabella's precious fairy tales - she was a warrior who saw through Moretti's mask. The onlyone who ever tried to protect us both. Taught me piano to keep me safe, taught Isabella grace to give her armor. Did everything she could to give us both a shot at freedom.

And what did she get? Bruises. Broken bones. A bullet. A grave. All because daddy's perfect princess couldn't keep one fucking secret.

And Isabella's about to learn exactly what that lesson cost.

CHAPTER 44—ISABELLA

"Read. It. Now." Hissnarl hits like chemo in my veins. He towers over me, face twisted with the kind of disgust that makes my insides turn to ice. Pain and terror and shame flood my system hotter than any fever - or maybe that's just guilt finally burning through my carefully constructed walls.

I try wiping away tears that won't stop falling, each one feeding the Beast's rage like blood in water. The crater in my chest widens with every breath.

His eyes burn with hatred now, those same eyes that watched me like I was something precious just hours ago. His hands clench into fists - god, those hands that mapped every inch of me with such care, that held me like I wasn't broken. The way he growled my name like salvation, like something he'd been starving for. How he took control but kept me safe, made me believe we could rewrite our story.

That we weren't destined to end in tragedy.

I was such a fool.

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