then I told him about Marketa and how happy you were but I could still see the sadness in your eyes.”
“Morgan,” I whispered, shocked at what I was hearing.
“Yes.”
My head whipped around.
Cathy looked back at the screen. “Watch and you’ll understand.” She turned up the volume, worrying her hands in her lap.
My voice pumped through the speakers.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Angry. Loud. I was upset. “I’m not yours. I never have been.”
“What do you want, Morgan? You already got everything you can from me. You destroyed me. What more can you take from me?” I was shouting at Morgan but no one was in the room except for me. I saw myself rip my dress shirt in half, screaming out in agony. “Stop!” I yelled, gripping my hair. “Stop talking about her. Leave me the fuck alone.” I lost it.
What the hell was I was watching? My heart raced. My blood ringing in my ears. The video version of me thrashed around the room, falling to the floor and crying out in pain. And then I saw her. Emily. She appeared on screen and attacked me, scratching and clawing at my back. Her long nails dug into my skin making me think I had been whipped but I saw it was at the hands of a possessive woman.
“Stop,” I pleaded. “No more.”
When the video ended, Cathy ejected it from the computer. “I am so sorry I had to show you that.”
“I…” I couldn’t process. And then it clicked. I was yelling at Morgan but she wasn’t there. It was Emily Griffin. My mind had conjured up images of Morgan, thinking it was her lashing out at me. Thinking it was her men who attacked me. Even though it had been years, the pain was fresh, I could still feel them forcing me to my knees. It was never Morgan. Never. But all this time, after everything, Morgan still succeeded in destroying me.
“Do you remember?” Cathy asked gently.
Memories rushed into my mind. An elation of relief soared through me.
I killed Morgan. Years ago. But she still came at me like a monster under my bed. The darkness in the corners of my room. The mind was a funny thing.
A slow grin spread on my face. Oh I definitely remembered.
Mae
The darkness took over, swallowing me into the ultimate pit of hell. Walls closed in and around me, suffocating me until I could no longer breathe. Shadows passed in front of my eyes but I couldn’t make them out. A voice, high pitched and feminine moved around me.
My muscles twitched, creaking over my bones. Every inch of me ached. The tiny fibers of hair on my body tingled with anxiety.
“Marketa,” the female voice whispered across my skin.
I groaned, struggling against the binds that held me restrained. Disorientated and unsure, I couldn’t remember what had happened.
My heart sped up. I tried opening my eyes but I still only saw black. “Where…” I croaked, licking my parched lips. “Where am I?” Suddenly, light shone in my eyes, blinding me. I blinked past the burning.
“There you are, pretty girl.” Morgan came into my field of vision, cupping my face. “How do you feel?”
“Restrained,” I bit out, struggling to get free.
She smiled, taking a step back. “You’ll only be restrained for a little bit. We have to wait for Matteo to come home.”
“Home?” I looked around me. “I’m…” I was in Matteo’s dungeon. Morgan had me captive in his room. A room we played in. Bile rose to my throat. I struggled against the binds, trying to break free.
“Hey. Hey. Calm down.” Morgan pinned me down. “It won’t be much longer now.”
“What do you want?” I asked, breathing past the impending panic attack.
“I want…” Morgan tapped her chin. “What do I want?” She walked back and forth in front of me. “Do you know who I am?” She laughed. “Of course you do. Matteo must have told you so much about me. We’re in love you know.”
“That’s not what I heard,” I bit out.
“Oh poo.” She waved her hand in front of her. “Matteo likes to play games. He truly does love me.”
“You are delusional.”
“Did Matteo tell you that we’re getting married?” She flashed her hand in front of me, her finger sporting the ring that should have been on my finger. “I know he likes to tell stories. Silly boy. All those lies he had been spreading over the years, telling people how