“Noa,” he said, voice hoarse. “Are you okay? I came back as fast as I could—I’m sorry—”
He reached for me like he expected me to collapse into his arms.
And then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he added—
“I had to get Harper back to the mansion first. If anything happened to her, my nephew would blame me.”
The real reason. The same goddamn excuse he always had tucked up his sleeve.
I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Shut up.”
I didn’t want to hear it. Not one more word.
…
Back at the mansion, Elias played the concerned husband again.
He even called the family doctor to examine me, hovering while they checked the swelling on my face and the bruises blooming down my arms.
Afterward, he knelt by my bedside, brushing my hair back like we were still something.
“My wedding to Harper is tomorrow,” he said softly, like that should somehow comfort me. “Just wait a little longer. After that… everything will be better.”
Better.
Yes, it would. But not in the way he thought.
I smiled at him sweetly—the first real smile I’d given him in a long, long time. “Then there is more reasons that you shouldn’t keep your bride waiting,” I said, my voice a blade wrapped in velvet. “Go, rest early and prepare yourself for tomorrow’s wedding.”
Elias smiled back, relieved, the fool.
After he left, I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Jose,” I said when he answered. “I’m ready. Have the people and the car here tomorrow morning. Eight sharp.”
Tomorrow, when Elias said “I do”— I’d already be gone.
And he’d never see me—or my twins—ever again.
