Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Inhale. Exhale.
I tried to remind myself to breathe, but the panic that came with the nightmare wouldn't allow me to. My heart thudded against my rib cage, hard and loud, each beat echoing in my ears like the roar of thunder.
The clenching in my jaw tightened, my teeth grinding together as the memory assaulted me again and again.
I didn’t know how long I stood under the cold water but somehow… eventually, my body hollowed into something quieter, a familiar emptiness.
Numb.
The heat of the flames was replaced by the iciness of the water seeping into my pores, burying its coldness underneath my skin, reminding my flesh that whatever that nightmare was, it was just that—a nightmare.
An old, distant memory.
I was no longer burning.
The flames were not real.
Not anymore.
The fire was gone, old and buried in the past.
I was alive.
My jaw locked as I fought back another ugly wail clawing its way up my throat.
I am alive.
But… they weren’t.
It took several long, shaky breaths before I could uncurl my fists from my hair, and my arms dropped limply to my sides. My fingers trembled as I reached for the faucet and turned off the water. Silence settled over the small hotel bathroom. I watched the water spiral into the drain, disappearing into the darkness. For a moment I could only stare, hypnotized by its seemingly endless descent.
Water and fire.
One consumed, destroying everything it touched.
The other carried away the ashes and washed off the bleeding sins.
Both left behind nothing but ghosts.
I stepped out of the shower and peeled off the soaked clothes from my body, dropping them to the floor with a heavy, wet thud. I wrapped the towel around my body and walked back to the bedroom. I shivered with every step I took, my muscles aching with exhaustion.
They ached with the memory of the past.
Once again, the dream replayed itself in the back of my mind, a shuffling of images that refused to settle.
“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath.
I closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose, counting backward from ten. Pressing both palms to my face, I waited for the shivering to stop. I’d had nightmares before—years of them, overlapping and mutating so they became less like dreams and more like a sixth sense.
This one was different. This one felt like a message, a warning shot, a reminder trying to reassert itself after months of deliberate forgetting.
I had to force myself to forget because I had to play a part.
The perfect daughter and the dutiful wife.
I couldn’t let my past become my weakness.
The memories had to stay buried.
But now…
I could be myself. The real me.
Now, I could finally mourn.
I walked to the mini fridge and took out the last can of Diet Coke and pressed it to my cheek, letting the condensation drip down my neck. The coolness was refreshing.
Inhale. Exhale.
My heart slowed.
My pulse settled into something almost normal.
The panic, the pain… loosened their grip, retreating one measured breath at a time.
I could finally breathe.
I settled back in the queen-sized bed, my gaze sweeping over the small hotel room. It was dainty, not too expensive, but it wasn’t too shabby either. Just a nice, little hotel in the middle of Prague.
Moving across multiple countries and continents over the last six weeks has become both tiring and a little too expensive.
I thought pulling that trigger would mean freedom.
Except now… I was on the run.
Fuck me.
Fuck them.
I switched on the TV, muting the volume, and scrolled through the local news. I didn’t know what to expect, but tragedy was everywhere. A fatal accident that killed a happy family of five. A kidnapping of a newborn. A five-year-old drowning. A teenage suicide.
The anchors delivered each story with plastic precision. God, the world was a cruel and ugly place.
So cruel and ugly that I had once believed that revenge would be gratifying.
My vengeance was never born from spite.
It had been my sole purpose since I was fifteen years old.
I planned. I orchestrated. I waited.
Every sacrifice. Every lie.
For the perfect moment.
For the perfect revenge.
A life for a life.
Adrian thought he had been in control. That it was his plan all along. To force me into a marriage to protect my honor.
Oh, how utterly foolish of him.
He believed I was the gullible one. Falling into his carefully laid trap.
But he fell into my trap.
After all, innocence was the oldest weapon in the world. And I had worn mine like a second skin. The sheltered Morelli daughter. The pitiful bride. Every man in this dangerous world of ours had looked at me and seen exactly what I needed them to see—and every one of them underestimated me, especially my husband.
Too bad, he never knew the real me.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. To save lives. To do something meaningful. When I was fifteen, that dream shattered. And from that day on, I dreamed of being someone else. Something else.