EMMIE
He has to be fucking joking.
Right?
Right?
His stare is hard, cold, and determined and tells me everything I need to know.
I can fight all I like, but until I break him, or figure out a way to break out, I’m not going anywhere.
My teeth grind and my nails dig into my palms so hard I’m sure I’ve broken the skin, but I continue holding his eyes.
I will not back down from this prick.
“Fine,” I finally say, “but if you think you’re going to come anywhere fucking near me, marriage certificate or not, then you’ve seriously got another think coming. You don't own me, and I will find a way to get out of this. There is no way in hell I ever want to be connected to you in any way.”
His jaw tics with frustration, but annoyingly he remains silent.
Part of me is glad, but the other, more fucked up part wants him to fight, wants him to shout and scream and prove to me just how wrong I am.
Because we are connected.
We’re connected in a way I never have been with anyone else, and I don’t mean by a bullshit piece of paper that makes us man and wife.
Once I’ve convinced my fickle, stupid heart that he’s not going to fight for me, I turn my back on him and storm down the hallway.
My steps falter when I reach his bedroom door, but in the end, I keep going down to the guest bedroom I found during my search earlier.
I push through the door before slamming it so hard behind me it makes the floor beneath my feet vibrate.
I can only hope that Stella and Seb hear it and realise something is wrong and come to my rescue.
It’s wishful thinking, I know just how soundproof this place is. I’m sure they’d have been up here long ago if they could hear any of the chaos I caused once I discovered that stupid fuck had locked me in here.
Who the fuck does he think I am, fucking Rapunzel?
I pace back and forth in front of the windows. The view from this side of the flat isn’t as impressive as the one from the living room or Theo’s bedroom, but it’s still incredible, and certainly more than I ever got in the shitty bedsits and tiny flats Mum forced me to live in.
My heart sinks to my feet as I realise that I never even asked if she… a lump jumps into my throat.
I blow out a long, slow breath and shake my arms out at my sides.
I remember the amount of blood that was pooling around her body faster than I could contemplate. There’s no way she survived that.
A sob rips from my throat as grief washes through me.
I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to stop from shattering into a million pieces.
My back hits the wall and my legs give out.
Curling into a ball, I stop trying to hold back and let the tears flow.
I’ve never really lost anyone, but in the space of only a few hours, it seems I’ve lost more than I thought possible.
Mum. Pops—if what Theo told me is to be believed. And His Lordship himself. Because despite the fact that I don’t want to admit it, something about the time we’ve spent together recently felt very, very right, and I can’t help but grieve the loss of the guy he was quite clearly pretending to be just to lure me into this twisted fucking game.
Angrily, I swipe at my cheeks, suddenly frustrated at myself for breaking, for letting any of this get to me. I need to be stronger if I stand any chance of going up against this dickhead and his control freak of a father. If I stand any chance of getting out of this fucking flat.