Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife #1) - Sienna Blake Page 0,62
bag and something much more important than material goods.
Dimitri’s eyes drop to the bag in my hand. I see the moment when he realises what I’m doing. The anger shatters on his face, his hatred abandons him, revealing the scared little boy underneath. “No.”
“Goodbye, Dimitri.” My voice cracks on his name as I begin to walk, despite my feet feeling like lead. Despite my heart breaking.
For the last time in my life, I leave him.
59
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Dimitri
She’s bluffing.
This is a way to get me to negotiate terms in our marriage contract. Clever girl. It’s what I would have done. Even as Alena passes me, I remain stoic, my mind a fuzzy whirr.
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone in her bedroom. The scent of her sweet almonds and vanilla lingers like a ghost.
I don’t know how long I stand there. Staring at the door. Waiting for her to come back in.
Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
“Goodbye, Dimitri.” Her voice cracks, the anguish leaking from her words…
…is real.
She left.
Something snaps inside me. The part of me that she hadn’t broken now shatters. Now everything that is whole is a cruel mockery. My hand reaches for the closest object. It smashes against the wall in a shower of ceramic before I realise it was a vase. The table is next. I barely feel the weight of the solid wood as I slam it into the floor, pieces snapping off, splinters digging into my palms.
She said she wouldn’t leave me again. She lied.
I throw the record player across the room and smash the vinyl record, our only record, on the floor. That song, our song, was just a lie. Every word from her mouth, a lie.
Nothing is safe from my violent limbs. I break. I smash. I destroy everything I can grab, everything not tied down.
She made me want her again. Devil woman. She made me want her then she threw me aside when she was no longer interested, playing with me like a fucking toy.
The photos of us—of her, of me, of us—set in frames over the rickety mantel get knocked over with one violent sweep. I can’t stand the sight of her smiling at me. The smashing of glass echoes inside my soul.
I tear the sheets off her bed, kicking the mattress at the same time. The bed scrapes across the floor, pillows flying across the room. I tear and tear, feathers scattering from me, every violent rip echoing the sound of my heart in her hands.
I rip open the box containing her birthday present. What a fool I was to think she loved me like I loved her.
I spy the edge of a box under the bed. Something she kept hidden. Something she left behind. I want to rip out her darkest secrets and watch them burn.
I snatch it out and fumble with the lock, my fingers jerking with agitation. It’s fucking locked.
No key.
Where’s the key?
Fuck the key.
I stride over to the marble side table and smash the lock against the corner until it yields.
I shake the box open. The contents tumble out onto the table.
The slip of torn white lace. The shard of vinyl. And a photo of me.
Pieces of the apartment I destroyed in St Petersburg.
Truth spears my heart with cold accuracy. I stumble back from the broken ghosts of my past. She was telling the truth. She did come back all those years ago.
Just because she came back, it doesn’t mean anything. Remember what she said. Remember she chose him.
All strength drains out of my body. I collapse to my knees, heaving in breath. I can’t seem to muster any more anger.
60
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Alena
When I step out the front door of Worthington Manor, Emily and Edgar are standing there clinging to each other. Edgar is so pale and shaky that I think it’s Emily who is holding him up.
The car is waiting for us, Percy standing by the open trunk. “I’m sorry, Miss Alena,” Percy says to me, his voice low.
“Me too, Percy.”
He takes the duffle from my shoulder and places it in the trunk. “The new master has allowed me to drop you off somewhere. Where would you like to go?”
He’s asking me? “I…”
I turn towards Emily and Edgar. They’re both staring at me as if they’re waiting for me to say something. They’re looking to me to figure something out. Me.
Right. I fold my sadness away, like I’m so good at doing. I will deal with it properly when I have a moment. Not now. My family needs me now.