Page 1 of Shattered
CHAPTER 1
two weeks earlier
Mel
Champagne toasts should lead to drunken hugs, happy thoughts, and celebration, not to broken promises and death. And had I had a better head on my shoulders, maybe we would have gone down the better route. But I was blinded by the light, knowing that I was finally getting what I wanted: an escape from my enormous debt to the Dahlia District, and a life where I could paint whatever I dreamed of, never caring about what the client wanted from me. All Aldrich wanted was a virgin bride for his third wife. I could pretend. I could lie on the altar. I could spread my legs and put red paint on my thighs and whimper at the pain. As long as I was free from debt, free to create art.
“To our celebration,” I repeated.
Our glasses chimed together and we both tipped back our drinks. The champagne was smooth and sweet, the bubbles swishing in my mouth. Aldrich drank his entire glass in a single gulp, then settled his flute on the nightstand. His cream robe was falling off of his shoulders, exposing his black and gray chest hair. He wasn’t the first club member I had met with outside of the Dahlia District, an elite entertainment club for billionaires, but hewasthe wealthiest. At least, he had been, before he lost everything.
A knife gleamed on the dresser, shining like the filmy surface of an eye. A hook curved on one end, making the weapon seem more malicious than a simple tool. I had experienced more than enough at the hands of abusive men; a club member with a knife obsession didn’t scare me.
“We’ll get to that,” he purred, tracking my eyes. I took another sip. He pushed back the cardigan on my shoulders, his fingertips gentle on my skin for once, and I let him. This was more clothing than I typically wore when he saw me at the Dahlia District, and there was no reason to protest. He stared down at my breasts and didn’t pretend to hide his gaze. I was a pure object in that moment.
“I was thinking of getting a tattoo,” I said. I traced a finger along my cleavage. “Right here.”
He stared closely, but his expression didn’t change.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” he said. “Tattoos symbolize maturity. I’d prefer to keep your innocence intact for as long as we can manage.”
Innocence. That was what Aldrich wanted. The dream that I was a virgin that had saved myself for him, all of these twenty-three years.
If that was what he wanted, then I could give up tattoos. Marking my body as I pleased was hardly a concession if I had a new life without debt or painting restrictions.
He stood and picked up the knife, bringing it to the bed. “Lie down,” he said. I laid back, tempted to close my eyes and forget, to let whatever was coming come quickly, and come now.
But I didn’t have to be defenseless.
I sat up quickly. He tucked the knife under his arm.
“If I do this,” I said, “You’ll keep up your end of the agreement?”
“What agreement?”
My chest tightened. “My freedom,” I said, “from the Dahlia District. Our marriage. And Haley.” I paused, watching for his reaction as I said her name. It was a delicate balance to negotiate and still play by his rules. Haley had introduced me to Aldrich, but they were no longer on speaking terms. She gave her virginity to someone else, a prize which Aldrich thought was his to own. “I ridiculed and threatened her in front of everyone, just like you asked me to. I even said the exact words you wanted. And you said you would leave her alone.”
His eyes didn’t move from mine, as if he had become an unblinking statue. Then he placed the knife on top of the dresser once again.
I had crossed too far by mentioning her name, hadn’t I?
“What you bring up is a complicated situation,” he said. He slid open the top drawer. “You’re right about one part, Mel. We made a deal and I always keep my word. But only when it comes to an honest deal. An agreement saturated in truth.”
“Truth?”
He turned sharply toward me. “If you were a virgin like you claimed, I would have kept my end of the bargain. But we both know we’ve been playing charades. I was willing to keep up false pretenses, as long as you were. But pushing and pushing and pushing foryourend of the deal, when you simply cannot keep promises of your own? Why, that’s unfair, isn’t it?”
My stomach rolled. He had been my regular club member at the Dahlia District for weeks now. He had known the entire time that I wasn’t a virgin?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, though I know my eyes betrayed me.
He grabbed a new knife out of the drawer, a long thin one, and dropped his grip to his side. “You must think I’m stupid, but I know more than you realize. You haven’t been a virgin since you stepped foot into that forsaken club. But youcanact, can’t you? You’re a damn prize when it comes to pretending to be something you’re not.” He sneered, his upper lip curling. “It would almost be admirable if it wasn’t infuriating.”
He relaxed his shoulders then, peering over the room.
“As for the marriage,” he said, “I’ve had too many dead wives to be interested now. They’re a bit of a nuisance, if you ask me. It would have to be a fine specimen to make me change my mind. Atruevirgin.” I sucked in a breath. “And Haley isn’t your concern. It’s commendable that you’d want to save her, but she’s dug her own grave. Let her die in it.”
Adrenaline rattled inside of me, aching at those words. “What do you mean, dug her own grave?”
