Oh, God.
No.
Her lips curve up into a sneer, her eyes drifting over me with apparent disdain. “If it isn’t the cunt who shouldn’t be a queen. Wow, you really squeezed all your fat into that dress? A bit tight, don’t you think?”
This isn’t happening.
My muscles freeze for a precious second, and it’s all it takes for Irene to lurch at me. Her hand connects with the side of my head, and I’m slammed against the mirror.
Glass splinters.
My scalp burns and stings.
The door shuts, and the air’s sucked out of the small space, my lungs instantly seizing to work.
Disorientated from the sudden attack, Irene has the upper hand as she fists my hair and slams the side of my head against the broken mirror again.
Warmth floods the right side of my face as I slump to the floor, then a kick collides with ribs, sending a wave of excruciating pain through my chest.
Somehow I manage to curl up against the wall, my mind fuzzy, the world spinning in and out of focus.
Apprehension and terror overwhelm me, making it impossible to think. Only one word comes to mind – Nikolas.
There’s another brutal kick to my lower back, and all I can do is whimper, years of conditioning keeping me imprisoned to the floor.
“You think you’re better than me because you married Nikolas Stathoulis?” Irene laughs manically. “Think again, cunt. He’ll grow bored of you soon enough and then look for a real woman, one who’s not fat as fuck.”
Her words cut through me, airing all my insecurities and pain.
I don’t even realize Irene leaves, my strangled breaths are the only sound I can hear. Flashes of the past mix with the present, forming an endless loop of horror.
My insecurities and trauma form a thick cloud around me, making it even harder to breathe.
I was fat, but after my growth spurt, I was left with a curvy body – one I accepted. Nikolas made me feel like a real woman, one he desired and couldn’t get enough of, and it made me learn to love myself.
And Irene just obliterated it all.
Now I feel stupid for thinking I could look anything more than ridiculous in a tight dress.
A pain-filled groan escapes me as I try to lean back against the wall. My breaths are still coming too fast, and I struggle to reach for my purse, my left side, lower back, and head aching with an all too familiar pain. Finally, I manage to take the Xanax bottle out but opening the lid, the pills scatter over the floor from the intense trembling in my hands.
It feels like my lungs fall flat, my heart threatening to hammer right through my ribs.
Instinctively, I curl into a small ball, sobs strangeling the little air I have left from me. Nauseating dizziness spins in my head, making it hard to focus.
The door slams open, missing my head by an inch.
“She’s here!”
Andreas is a blur, then he moves out of the way, and Nikolas appears. After that, everything becomes flashes as my mind keeps checking out of reality.
Nikolas’ enraged face.
“Who did this to you?”
He drops to his knees in front of me.
My sight focus on his chest, and using the little strength I have left, I grab hold of his jacket and pull myself against him. I curl into him, and then horrible sobs tear through me.
It’s okay. Calm down.
Nikolas is here.
You’re safe.
Calm down.
Try to breathe.
“Tess… Theresa… Baby.”
Chapter 31
Nikolas
The moment I lay eyes on Tess, and I take in the blood on the right side of her face, the broken mirror, her in a small bundle – murderous rage rips the air from my lungs.
Jesus Christ.
I dart forward, dropping to my knees in front of her. “Who did this to you?” is all I can think to ask, wanting to kill whoever dared touch my wife.
Tess’ breaths are too fast, some strangled by sobs, then she grabs hold of my jacket and pulls her body up against mine. When she buries her face against my chest, her sobs turn to agonizing cries, her body jerking uncontrollably.
Something shifts inside me.
It’s dark and lethal.
I wrap my arms around her, but her breathing grows too shallow. “Tess.” Taking hold of her chin, some blood smearing on my fingers, I try to look at her face. She’s so fucking pale, her eyes drifting shut and hiding the unadulterated terror. “Theresa!” I snap, panic flooding my veins. She loses consciousness, and a hellish fear explodes in my chest. Pushing my arms beneath her body, I lift her to my chest as I climb to my feet. “Baby,” I groan, holding her as close to me as I can while rushing out of the restroom.
Andreas shoots past me, his features tight with worry.
Guests spill out of the entrance hall.
I hear Helena’s concerned questions.
But I don’t stop. I run out the front door, my wife’s limp body in my arms, sending fresh waves of fear through me with every step I take.