11: Let It Hurt

KILLIAN

She was still wearing my shirt and eating my food. That should've meant nothing. But it felt like everything.

And for a second, I imagined what it would have felt like if she had never betrayed me. We could've lived like this...normal and peaceful.

"Where's my pretty boy?" A familiar voice called out, shattering my thoughts.

Lilith.

Fuck.

She wasn't supposed to come tonight.

Not now. Not with Alexa here.

I didn't care about Lilith's tantrums or her threats.

I cared about Alexa seeing this part of my life, and that was unlike me.

"Stay here, don't come out," I said to Alexa as I stormed out of the kitchen and headed to the living room. A part of me knew that my wife wouldn't listen. She'd been taking every chance she could to rebel against me lately. But I also hoped that for once, she would listen.

I found her in the sitting room, lounging on the couch like she owned the place.

Lilith.

Her dyed blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail so tight, her brown eyes were literally bulging out of their sockets. She had her signature red lipstick on, and she was literally half naked even though she was wearing a dress.

"Someone's been here," she purred, narrowing her eyes.

Then she sniffed. What is she? A dog?

She smirked.

"Let me guess... she's still in your shirt?"

I stepped forward and grabbed her arm with just enough pressure to remind her who this house belonged to.

"Don't push me, Lilith."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. She loved playing with fire.

"You didn't tell me you had company," she said, sliding her finger down my chest. "That's unlike you."

I should've thrown her out right then. But it was too late.

Alexa was standing in the doorway.

Lilith turned, her lips curling into a venomous smile.

"This is your new project? She looks soft and breakable."

Rage sizzled inside of me.

"Say another word," I growled, "and I'll remind you how expendable you are."

Alexa didn't say a thing. She just turned, head high, and disappeared upstairs without a second glance.

Fuck.

"Lilith," I bit out. "Out."

Her laughter echoed as she left, her heels clicking on the marble. I slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, hands in my hair.

I could handle the rage, but the shame? That was new.

And now, I couldn't face her without feeling like I was a piece of shit. Thanks to Lilith.

I stood there for a while before I decided to go after her. Still, when I halted in front of the door, I hesitated again.

Cursing under my breath, I opened the door, and there she sat on her bed, curled up with her knees to her chest. She was gazing at the night sky through the open window.

"That's the kind of woman you usually like?" She asked, and I couldn't bring myself to respond.

She scoffed. "How typical. You don't have to explain anything to me. Our marriage is an open one. I don't care who you roll around in the sheets with."

My stomach tightened. I had added the term "open marriage" in our contract, but I regretted it now. I'd put it there to destabilize her and yet, this was a total backfire.

"Please shut the door on your way out, husband," she said and lay down, her back to me.

It stung much more than I could admit. So, I quickly shut the door and leaned against it, frustration boiling in my blood.

...

She was laughing.

Downstairs, in the sitting room, my wife was laughing. But it wasn’t for me. She was seated beside Sofia, her best friend. The one I'd kept away from her. My guilt had eaten me up last night, and this morning, I'd allowed them to meet again.

And now I was watching her from the hidden camera in the sitting room.

Her laughter wasn't entirely genuine. I knew it was all my fault. I should go to her and say something or apologize.

But I wasn't the kind of man who fixed things. I was the man who broke them and watched.

My fists curled.

And then I felt it.

That cold presence like ice seeping through my veins, fingernails digging into my shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

I didn't have to look.

"You're disgustingly weak."

The voice slithered down my spine.

The ghost of my father that was trapped in my mind.

I stared ahead, unblinking.

Alexa's hand brushed Sofia's. She leaned into her friend's shoulder, laughing again. It was softer this time.

"You let her mock you," the voice growled. "She should be on her knees, begging for your attention. Not laughing while you act like some neutered dog watching through glass."

My jaw clenched. The ghost's nails pressed deeper.

I hated him.

I hated that I still heard and felt him.

"She'll gut you the first chance she gets. Just like your mother did to me. You're bleeding for a woman who looks at you like a monster."

"She doesn't," I muttered.

It was a lie.

She did, sometimes.

And it fucking gutted me.

"Good. Let it hurt," the voice hissed. "Because that pain? That's who you are. That's all you'll ever be."

I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the polished floor, my breathing ragged. The ghost laughed, retreating into the shadows of my mind like he always did, only to return when the shame bled deep enough.

...

The house was eerily silent when I got home from the office. For a moment, I worried that Alexa had found a way to sneak out of the house with the help of her friend. And when I headed upstairs, I froze at the sound of running water. It wasn't coming from her room but mine.

Shit.

I hurried into my room and found the lights on. Nothing seemed amiss at first glance. But I could tell that someone had looked through my closet. The bathroom door was slightly open, and steam was slowly flowing into the room. Letting out a sigh, I took off my suit jacket and unbuckled my wristwatch.

"Alexa," I called out, but she didn't respond.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I moved towards the bathroom door.

"I'm coming in," I stated and pushed the door open. The instant I stepped in, I froze. She was sitting in the bathtub, which was half full. Her fingers were white-knuckled around the edge of the tub.

I tried not to get distracted by the sight of her slim shoulders and back. She was much skinnier than I'd thought. I could see the scars on her pale skin, and the sight of them made me feel sick to my stomach with fury towards the one who'd hurt her.

But then, my gaze rested on her face.

Her face was flushed, and her short black hair was damp. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen like she'd been crying for hours.

"Alexa, what—"

She reached out and picked up a photo lying by the bathtub.

I recognized it immediately. It was a photo I'd taken with Seraphina the summer before she betrayed me. I was holding her in my arms, her lips pressed on my cheek.

"Explain this," she croaked, and I sighed.

"Alexa—"

I moved over, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt as I grabbed a towel and approached her.

"Because it makes no sense! I shot you! So, why does it look like I was in love with you?!" She yelled at me.

"Come on, you can't stay in there for too long," I said. Her skin was already screaming from the heat. I feared she would have a heat stroke or something.

"Killian, I need to know. Who was I to you?" She demanded, rising to her feet.

Muttering strings of curses under my breath, I looked away from her and wrapped the towel around her.

"Don't ignore me. What does this picture mean? And what is the ledger all about?" She asked, and I stiffened.

Shit. Did she find it already?