Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,60

have done this for me. I don’t want this, no matter how badly he treats me.”

His eyes narrow. “I did this for me.”

I must find a crack in his defences, a chink in his armour. I know Dimitri isn’t heartless like this. Not truly. “What about Emily? She’s done nothing to you except love you.”

Dimitri’s lip presses just a touch. “She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t know me.”

“She doesn’t deserve to be kicked out of her childhood home without a place to go.”

“It’s nothing personal with her. She just got caught up in the sins of the people around her.”

My heart stabs. Dimitri has not forgiven me. Yesterday as he was taking me, even as he was giving me the most intense pleasure of my life, he was still punishing me. Would he ever stop punishing me?

“Hurting Emily is unfortunate but necessary,” he says with such coldness, it pierces my heart.

“It is not necessary.”

“It is.” His fist slams down on the desk. “My heart—my fucking world—was shattered five years ago. Someone must pay.” His eyes glitter with madness. “They will pay. I will have my restitution.”

All my hopes turn to ash in my mouth. I’ve failed. He will not listen to me. He can barely hold my gaze without scowling.

He slides a pile of papers across the desk towards me.

“What’s this?”

“For you.”

Me? Dread fills my stomach with bile. I pick up the papers, my eyes scanning across the black ink. I didn’t think my heart could drop any further. I didn’t think my world could crumble any further.

I was wrong.

“You said you’d never leave me,” Dimitri says. “Forgive me if I don’t take your word on it.”

My visions blurs. It’s a contract. Dimitri has drawn up a contract for me, a marriage contract. It binds me to him forever. No divorce. No release clauses. No loopholes.

He wants to make sure I never leave him.

56

____________

Alena

I float aimlessly down the corridors, the folded marriage contract burning a hole in my pocket. I needed time to read through the pages, I said to Dimitri. I think I said. I’m not sure.

I jerk out of my thoughts when I pass my husband’s bedroom. Through the crack in the door I can hear a voice. And…is that a sob?

I creep closer and press my eye to the gap.

My husband is sitting on the floor with his back to me. In dress slacks. I gape at this alone. So undignified, I can still hear him saying when he found Emily and I lying about on the carpet in her room.

Edgar is muttering something, his voice breaking, to the large framed photo in his hand.

I swallow a gasp. He’s holding a photo of me. One I’ve never seen before. When was that taken? Why is he holding it?

I notice that her hair is straight, the tip of her nose more upturned and her cheeks are a touch softer than mine.

It must be his wife. Elise. The woman whose name he calls sometimes when we are together.

She and I could have passed for sisters.

A piece of the puzzle slots into place and I can see the whole picture. This is why he wanted me. Because I look like Elise. My husband still loves a woman who is dead. Emily’s mother. My heart twists in my chest for him. This is why he is the way he is. Edgar resents me for not being her. He must hate himself for trying to replace her.

My husband’s cold facade shines differently in my mind. For the first time in five years, I see him for who he really is. Not a monster. Not the villain in this story. But a person who lost the love of his life. A person who made poor, grief-fuelled choices.

Not so different from Dimitri.

Or…me.

57

____________

Alena

I stand at Emily’s closed bedroom door, staring at the engravings of choked ivy painted in placid cream. I’ve been here for God knows how long, trying to work up the courage to go in. I’m not sure how many times I lift my hand to push open her door, only to let it drop to my side.

Go to her, Alena. She needs you.

She hates you. She didn’t even say goodbye properly when you left here two days ago.

Regardless of what has happened, regardless of how she feels about me, I cannot just walk away.

I take a deep breath and open her door. Emily is sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out her window. Her face turns towards me as I