When we were alone, Val saw her sister: the woman who longed for the days back at the academy and the simplicity of life. However, never would she know the woman who had signed away her life, the one who was sold to pay a debt she didn’t owe. Just before Val left the penthouse apartment, we hugged, and I vowed to myself that no one—ever—would see that woman again. When Stewart’s body was placed into the incinerator and his flesh peeled from his bones, freedom would be found in the putrid smoke and I would be free.

It wasn’t until I was alone in the upstairs suite that I began to relax.

It was done.

He was gone.

Nine years of hell were over!

In my final act of cleansing, I stepped under the warm spray of the shower and washed away the stench of his decaying body. As I did, the memories of Peppermint Man came back, reminding me that I’d been with him less than fifteen hours ago.

Instead of crying, I laughed. For the first time in years, I laughed. Not just a giggle, my stomach ached at the rolling my emotional swing ensued. I would never endure the warehouse again. As the hot water rained down, I savored the purging fluid. I was Mrs. Victoria Fucking Harrington. I had a few more days to play the grieving wife. It is a new role, but I could do it: shaking hands, smiling sadly, even shedding a tear or two when necessary. After all, the acting wasn’t new. I’ve been doing it my whole life. Only now, the truth I kept buried, the one that ate at me day and night since I was old enough to remember, was a reality. Nevertheless, it was too painful to reveal, too upsetting for those around me. I needed to show them what they wanted, what they needed. They didn’t want to see who I truly was… what I truly was. They didn’t want to know that I’m a killer. But now that I’d done it, I knew without a doubt I could do it again.

The next morning, I awoke with a sense of calm. When I entered the kitchen, Lisa and Kristina, my personal assistant, were waiting. “Mrs. Harrington,” Lisa began. “As you know, Mr. Harrington had prearranged his funeral and cremation plans. If you’ll allow us, we’ll oversee everything and assure that it is all taken care of the way he requested.”

I reached out and squeezed Lisa’s hand. With eyes that brimmed with tears, I replied, “Thank you.”

Kristina said, “Mr. Craven’s assistant called. Mr. Craven would like to meet with you this morning. He suggested his office. I told him it wasn’t a good time. However, he was rather insistent. What would you like me to tell him?”

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I knew what I wanted. I fucking wanted him on my turf, but I knew as a new widow, I should be less decisive. Therefore, I looked earnestly toward Lisa, the woman who’d been so kind to me, and said, “I-I don’t think I should be out.”

“Of course you shouldn’t. I was hoping you would say that.” Her neck stiffened. “I don’t understand why he thinks this needs to be handled now. Doesn’t he understand how distraught you are?”

I nodded toward Kristina. “I think that if he wants to speak to me, he can come here. But I’d prefer he wait until later.” Turning toward Lisa, I asked, “Where is Travis? I need to speak to him first.”

“He’s here. I’ll have him go to your office after you eat.”

I cocked my head to the side, my lips working to not smile. “Mr. Harrington’s office. I believe the important business of this household has always been conducted in the main office. Tell Travis to meet me in there in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lisa said, as she and Kristina exchanged looks.

“And let me know this afternoon the status on all of the arrangements.” My command was met with a round of yes, ma’am and Lisa’s reminder of my waiting breakfast.

I’D ALWAYS ADMIRED the view from Stewart’s office. The ocean and sky filling the full-length windows brought sunlight to his domain. I recalled the first time I’d seen it, the first time I’d seen him. I was so young and naïve, though I thought I was strong and worldly. Thankfully, the injustices I’d experienced from an early age prepared me for what life had in store and gave me the strength I needed to survive. Oh, how wrong Stewart had been when he saw me as nothing more than his whore. With a smirk, I recalled the look of horror in his eyes as he realized that not only was I a worthy opponent, but I was the victor!

Everything he dangled before me was mine—it was all mine, especially and most importantly, my freedom!

The knock at the door caused me to spin away from the vista toward the opening door. Not waiting for my invitation, Travis entered. Our eyes met in a silent contest of wills. We remained mute as he closed the door and walked toward the desk. I took the seat that used to be my husband’s and pointed to the other chair. “Have a seat.”

Slowly, he did, his long legs and powerful body folding into the chair. Still his expression was one of superiority. I leaned forward, my long, unrestrained hair cascading over my shoulders. “Tell me how you did it.”

He casually relaxed his arms on the edge of the chair. “What, Mrs. Harrington, what specifically are you asking me?”

“You fucking know what I’m asking. How did you make me believe it was Stewart? I know it was his goddamned voice. What the fuck did you do?”

“I’ll tell you what I did, if you hear me out.”

“You don’t get to fucking give me ultimatums. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no longer employed by me or by Stewart. I wanted you to come in here this morning so I could tell you to get the fuck out of my home.”




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