Page 11 of Hunted Vengeance

I’m the one who brought her here, but I also didn’t make her feel welcome—except in bed. She was and is always welcome in my bed and in my life. Hell, I think I even miss her there.

Chapter Four

COLETTE

My father leaves justa few minutes after the wedding planner gives us her presentation. She’s all cleavage and fluttering eyelashes as she talks to him, and I feel secondhand embarrassment for her because I already know that she’s going to get rejected.

“Do you have any other ideas you’d like me to add to your vision board?” she chirps.

My eyes widen at her words. Then I blink a few times. I’m not sure what to say exactly. I don’t have a vision board. And if I did, I’m sure this girl who is all rainbows and sunshine would not like it very much.

Because my vision board would be pain and suffering. It would be black. It would be darkness to the depths of eternity. It would be hell. That’s where I’m at right now. That is my life—hell.

I experienced only a brief moment of somewhat rainbows and sunshine, but it was in all muted colors. There was nothing bright and happy about it. Even though it was the happiest day of my life, it wasn’t perfect by any means. I was still alone—I just didn’t sleep alone.

I want Merrick back.

I should have fought harder for him, to stay with him, but I knew he didn’t really want me there. Giving him his life back while destroying my own was a nightmare. I deserved it, though.

I tried to take something that wasn’t mine. I tried to keep him even when I knew I was the absolute last thing he wanted in his life. And here I am, planning a wedding to some guy I don’t know, some guy who is probably going to do something disgusting to me.

“I don’t have anything else to add. Everything sounds amazing,” I say, half-lying.

I don’t have anything to add. That part is the truth. But everything she showed me is so opposite of what I would want. And there’s so much shit on her vision board that I don’t think she could add even one more thing.

She beams up at me as she gathers her things. I watch her move around and then stand before she makes her way toward the door. She looks back at me from over her shoulder, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip before she speaks.

“When you see your father, will you let him know that I’ve left?” she asks.

I almost laugh at her, but I don’t because I kind of feel sorry for her. Instead, I tell her that I’ll let him know and then watch as she moves through the dining room and out the front door. I let out a heavy sigh and close my eyes.

It’s seriously the most depressing meeting of my life. I don’t want to do any of this, and I am pissed off at myself for not being stronger. Maybe if I stand up to my father, he can just kill me and get my miserable existence over with once and for all.

“You look like you’re a lamb being led to slaughter,” Marcello announces from the doorway.

As much as I want to ignore him, he’s the only person, aside from my father, who has spoken to me since I was dragged back here. Opening my eyes, I force myself to stand, straightening my knees when I do.

“Aren’t I just that?” I ask.

He frowns, then looks down at his feet before he drags his gaze back up to meet my own. “Worse things to be in this world than someone’s owned cunt.”

I almost laugh in his face. If I thought he wouldn’t slap me across the room, I just might. Instead, I ignore him and brush past him as I make my way back to my bedroom. I’m hungry, but I don’t bother asking for lunch. I’ll just wait for dinner. I don’t want to be in the house with my father’s men walking around freely anyway, especially Marcello.

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I lock it and walk over to my bed. Falling backward, I stare at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh. The world continues to move, and the people in it move on whether I’m here or not.

The only way I’m going to be able to make a change in my life is if I try to do it myself—again.

Third time is the charm, right?

Because I know, without a doubt, that no man will be coming to save me. It’s time I stop standing on the sidelines, stop watching everyone live their lives, stop allowing every single person around me to control me.

It’s time I try to take control myself—even if it kills me.

At least that’s what I tell myself. I’m not even sure that I believe my own internal thoughts. They seem completely out of this world—even to me.

MERRICK

Vaughn can’t tellme who took the proposal of marriage to Colette. He's given me everything he can on it, which isn’t much. I’m not sure if I’m going to figure anything out without going there myself.

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