Page 46 of Grave Intentions

The waiter arrives with their meals, and David immediately digs in, seemingly oblivious to Lena's discomfort. She picks at her food, her appetite clearly diminished by the oppressive atmosphere. I clench my jaw, my fingers itching to reach out and comfort her, to shield her from this nightmare.

As David leans in, his hand reaching across the table to grasp Lena's, I feel a surge of possessive rage. That should be my hand touching her, my fingers intertwined with hers.

Lena flinches away, her eyes wide with fear and revulsion.

Don't worry, princess. I'll free you soon enough.

I grip the table's edge, knuckles turning white as I watch David's hand snake across the table to grasp Lena's. She flinches away from his touch, her eyes sparking with a fear that sets my blood boiling. How dare he touch her like that! How dare he instill that look of terror in her beautiful eyes!

Forcing myself to remain still, to not storm over and rip his throat out right here and now, is one of the greatest challenges I've ever faced. But I know that if I act rashly if I reveal myself before the time is right, it could jeopardize everything. So, with a trembling breath, I tear my gaze away from the sickening sight before me and rise from my seat.

I can't stay here any longer, not without risking exposure. The need to act, to strike, to eliminate this pathetic excuse for a man is clawing at my insides like a rabid animal. If I remain, I may do something reckless that could compromise my carefully laid plans.

No, it's better to retreat, for now, to regroup and strategize. I slip out of the restaurant, my footsteps silent, and melt into the shadows of the night. The crisp evening air does little to cool the fire within me, but it provides clarity, allowing me to focus my thoughts.

As I move through the darkened streets, my mind races, formulating and discarding plans, weighing the risks andrewards of each potential course of action. I need to be smart about this and leave no stone unturned. David must be eliminated, that much is certain, but it needs to be done in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion, that doesn't lead back to me or Lena.

Perhaps a mugging gone wrong? No, too risky, too many variables that could unravel the whole operation. Maybe a tragic accident, a slip and fall that results in a fatal injury? But how to orchestrate such a thing without drawing unwanted attention?

The possibilities swirl through my mind like a tempest, each more twisted and intricate than the last. But through it all, one thought remains constant: Lena. She is the driving force behind every decision, every carefully calculated move.

As I retreat to the shadows, to the secluded sanctuary of my apartment where I can plan and strategize without interruption, I feel a renewed sense of determination coursing through my veins. David's days are numbered, and I will stop at nothing to ensure his permanent removal from Lena's life.

A twisted smile curves my lips as I envision our future, a dark and beautiful tapestry woven from the threads of my devotion. Yes, Lena Graves will be mine, and anyone foolish enough to stand in our way will suffer the consequences.

The game is afoot, and I am the master puppeteer, pulling the strings from the shadows. David's demise is inevitable, a mere formality in the grand scheme. All that remains is to decide how best to orchestrate his downfall.

31

LENA

Ifeel an unseen presence watching me again, prickling the back of my neck, but I can't place the source. The sensation follows me throughout the day, heightening my anxiety. David hovers over me, acting overly kind and solicitous after he raped me the other night. I shudder inwardly, repulsed by his attempt to make amends. His fake concern only serves as a reminder of his true, abusive nature.

As David drives me home from dinner, the tense silence in the car is suffocating. The moment we step inside, his façade crumbles, and he grabs me roughly, pushing me against the wall. "Time to show your gratitude for dinner," he demands.

So much for him attempting to make amends. Is this what I can expect every night from here on out?

I try to push him away, but his grip tightens. "No, I'm not in the mood," I say, hating the tremor in my voice.

David's hands are everywhere.

I struggle, but he's too strong. I can feel his arousal pressing into my thigh, and I know what's coming. "Please... I don't want to," I beg, my voice small and shaking.

"No one asked you," he growls, his breath hot on my neck. I try to twist away, but he slams me back against the wall, hismouth crushing mine in a brutal kiss. My heart sinks as I realize there's no escaping this. Not tonight.

He tears at my clothes, and I sob, turning my face away. I can't bear to look at him. David grabs my hips and pushes me toward my bedroom. His hands are rough as he forces me onto the bed and shoves my thighs apart.

I clench my teeth. I hate this. I hate him. I want to disappear, to be anywhere but here.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I sense something else. A presence. As if someone else is watching in the room with us. But it's too late to stop what's happening.

David climbs onto the bed, covering me with his body. I will myself to disconnect, to leave my body and float above this sordid scene. Just like I did Friday night.

I can't breathe. David's weight crushes me against the bed as he fumbles to get his cock free. Tears stream down my face, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to escape this nightmare.

Suddenly, there's a sickening squelch, and David freezes. His eyes widen in shock as a gurgling sound escapes his lips. Warm liquid splatters my face, and I open my eyes to see a knife protruding from David's throat.

He gapes at me, blood bubbling from his mouth before his body is violently shoved off mine. I try to scream, but a large hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries.

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