After all, Nick was in prison. Unable to hurt or manipulate anyone ever again.
Unable to stalk, rape, or kill another woman.
It was all just a coincidence that this woman who’d been looking into my ex-husband was now dead of an apparent suicide, a method he’d used on his previous victims.
A strange, unusual, unintentional coincidence.
An unbelievable, ridiculous, one-in-a-million coincidence.
Being married to a narcissistic sociopath had forced me to be observant.
To pick up on his moods before it was too late.
To learn every single detail about what made him tick, for no other reason than my own survival.
As I stared at Lachlan’s sister, her eyes the same vivid blue as his, one thing I’d learned about Nick screamed at me.
When it came to him, there was no such thing as a coincidence.