Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 18308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“Yes, let’s.” Nellie couldn’t speak quickly enough. All of them were aware of their boss’s unrequited feelings for Payton. But it would always be the elephant in the room and would stay that way, too, since they also knew it was a line no one should ever cross.
Eric Cheyney would never be on anyone’s list of favorite people in this office, but he was still Payton’s husband, for better or for worse.
And unfortunately, when Payton got home that evening, none of them would know until it was too late—it was for the worst.
"DRINK IT, SWEETHEART."
They had been married for four years. Four. That wasn’t exactly an entire lifetime, sure, but it should’ve been long enough for him to know that she didn’t drink. But here he was, forcing wine down her throat. She knew it was his most expensive wine, but she had never liked the taste of alcohol, and he had always known that.
“There you go.” Eric’s tone was satisfied as he continued making her drink against her will. Liquid had begun to dribble past her lips, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or care.
Payton wanted to stop him, but she couldn’t even lift her hand. His arm was deceptively warm behind her shoulders. Even with her thoughts hazy, she knew it wasn’t about her husband comforting her. It was to keep her in place as he made her drink from his wine glass.
“Good girl.”
The room was starting to blur as well. She watched him straighten. He was like a ghost now, but even so. When he walked to the kitchen island, and she saw a sheet of paper in his hand—
That was her stationery. The one she used to write letters to her friends and post them, the old school way.
“I’m sorry.”
At first, Payton thought he was apologizing to her—
“I just can’t go on anymore. There’s this darkness inside of me that I can’t escape from.”
Eric looked at her with a smile. “It sounds like you, doesn’t it? I used your ChatGPT account, got it to write a letter. Fictional, of course. I told him you wanted to be an author.”
Tears started rolling silently down her cheeks. She wanted to run away. She wanted to ask him why. But she still couldn’t move.
He walked back to her, and her tears rolled faster when she heard him actually start to whistle. How could this be the same man she had fallen in love with, the same man who had promised to love and cherish her, for better or for worse, till death do them part?
“Aww, don’t cry, sweetheart.”
Her body was immobile as Eric smoothed her hair back from her forehead, but inside her soul was desperately trying to get away from his touch, which now felt as traitorous as a rattlesnake.
“I know, Pay. I’m sorry. It will be over soon, I promise.”
All she could do was look up at him. Why, Eric? Why?
Her husband bent down to kiss her forehead. “This isn’t about you.” He resumed stroking her hair. “I just have to be free of you. I need a fresh start.”
And there it was, the answer to the question she could only cry out in her mind.
He wanted a fresh start with the other girl.
Rosé.
She supposed she could understand that, but why, though?
Why did he have to kill Payton for his fresh start?
Couldn’t he just...divorce her like normal men did?
“I hope you understand.”
No, she didn’t understand at all, but even if she could say that right now, he probably wouldn’t care either way. There was no going back from this, and no going back for her, with everything now going dimmer.
“My new girl, she knows I owe people some money. But I’m maxed out. So, that’s when she taught me what to do.”
While speaking, Eric wrapped his fingers around her neck with tender care.
“Insurance policy, sweetheart. It works like magic.”
His touch was almost loving, but the excited look in his eyes suggested otherwise, and the way he was breathing so fast...
Even with the room spinning faster and faster, and her eyesight blurrier, it was so painfully, heartbreakingly easy to tell.
He was tempted.
So, so very tempted to know what it meant to kill.
Even if the price of knowledge was her life.
“I think it’s time, sweetheart.”
The poison had completely eroded her strength at this point. She couldn’t even cry, couldn’t do anything as Eric lowered her against the cushions, tender as a lover.
Her mind went on rewind, replaying her memories like B-roll.
Why, Eric? Why?
How did we get here?
Why must you go so far as to kill me?
“Close your eyes, sweetheart. Don’t fight it.”
It wasn’t a request either, with her husband running a hand over her eyes.
This was it then.
She was really going to die.
She had never really taken the time to wonder if there was Heaven or Hell, but she didn’t have a choice now, did she? She was going to find out if—