Page 155 of Tangled Kisses
I march back to the landing, plant myself at the top where the great room unfurls below, glittering with sequins and champagne flutes.
“Hey!” My voice rings through the room, sharp enough to shatter glass. Heads turn. Conversations die. “Since everyone’s been whispering anyway, let me save you the trouble. Yes, I slept with another man. But it wasn’t meaningless. I didn’t pay him. Didn’t use him. I fell in love with him.”
I swipe the tears from my cheeks, knowing full well this is my last stand. But I refuse to let these upscale freaks believe for one second that Griffin wasn’t everything to me.
“He is everything Vander will never be—kind, good, protective. He touched me and I finally knew what it meant to be wanted. To be cherished. For the first time in years, I felt alive.”
“And Vander?” My laugh rips through the silence, jagged and raw. “Don’t waste your pity. He’s been screwing other women for years. In fact,” I flick my gaze to the right, where the redhead still lingers, lipstick smeared. “he was just fuckingheragainst the wallpaper.”
The room goes deathly still.
I grin, bitter and wild. “But that’s how you people do it here, isn’t it? Fuck in the shadows, pretend in the daylight.”
And then Vander’s hand clamps down on my arm, deceptively steady, his grip a noose tightening—reminding me that my outburst is nothing but a death sentence.
This is how I die.
Not in some hospital bed years from now. Not peacefully in my sleep. Here. Tonight. At the hands of the man who once swore he loved me.
And the worst part? They know. The laughter, the music—it’ll cover the sound of his fists and my bones breaking, but they’ll know. Everyone knows what Vander does behind closed doors. They’ll sip their champagne, pop another canapé, and pretend not to notice. Because it’s easier to look away. Because I don’t matter.
No one will stop him. No one will miss me.
I cling to one thought, one image. Griffin. His face, his warmth, the way his arms felt around me. I try to hold it close, press it against the fear that claws at me.
Vander shoves me down the hallway, the laughter of the party fading behind us. He doesn’t stop until the far wing, where the walls are thicker, the doors heavier. He flings me into the library, and I hit the edge of a chair before collapsing onto the carpet. My knee splits open, the hot sting of blood seeping through silk.
“Was it worth it?” His voice slices through me, sharp and merciless. “Was he worth it?”
I press Griffin’s face harder into my mind, as if memory alone could shield me.
“Answer me!” Vander’s roar rattles the shelves.
I push up, legs trembling, but he’s on me in an instant—fists in my hair, dragging me across the rug. My scalp burns, the fibers scraping raw against my skin. Then his shoe connects with my side.
The pain blooms hot and endless—my body already memorizing what it means to break for him.
I crumple against the bookcase, air punched from my lungs.
“Fucking answer me! Was he worth it?”
Blood runs warm down my lip, the copper tang sharp on my tongue. I lift my head, every breath jagged, every bone screaming, and meet his gaze.
“Every second with him,” I whisper, voice cracked but steady. “I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.”
His eyes narrow, black with rage.
I push on, defiant. “I never loved you. But I will love Griffin until the day I die.”
His mouth twists in a cruel snarl. “That day is coming sooner than you think.”
I stutter out a laugh, wiping the blood from my lips. “Better than another day in this hell with you.”
His hand fists in my hair again, jerking my head back, and then—impact.
The world tilts. Books blur. Wood splinters. The sickening crack reverberates through my skull.
I taste blood. And then everything falls dark.
