VIOLA
Jude, of all fucking people, is one knee in front of me, proposing like it’s the answer to everything. It’s not. It’s so far from what I need right now that I almost want to laugh. Instead, I just stare at him, speechless.
And with a goddamn diamond ring.
First Dino, and now Jude. I can’t marry him. I can’t marry anyone. Why the fuck can’t any of them understand that. Instead, I just stare at him, open-mouthed. I hate being lost for words. It’s like losing. I’m usually quick-witted enough to fill boring gaps in dialogue, but this is more than chit-chat or deep conversation. This is Hell incarnate, and Jude is damned Devil. The ass play was fine. I let him have that.
But this—I do not fucking need this right now.
My gut reaction is to punch him, but that would be extreme even for me.
“Viola, you’re fucking killing me here,” he says, a dark look crossing his face.
I shake my head. “I can’t be anyone’s wife.”
His brow creases up. “You’ve agreed to fucking marry Dino.”
“For a deal with Adrien,” I exclaim. “It’s not a real union. I’m not even going to marry him. I told you. It’s all fake.”
“I get that, but after this is all over….” He frowns, not getting it. “You’re really just going to walk away?”
I need air, but Jude is trapping me in the bathroom by kneeling in front of me. I’d have to squeeze around or climb over him to get away from him. Is that possible? No, I wouldn’t get very far. He’d have to grab me or stand in front of the door. I’m not going anywhere. I drag in a breath as my eyes scan the room once more and then settle on the ring still in Jude’s outstretched hands. Punching him in the guts is looking more and more appealing.
“I get it,” he says, breaking my train of how-to-escape thoughts, eyes becoming shuttered and dark. “You want it to be Lorcan.” He takes the box, closes it, and shoves the offending thing in his inner jacket pocket.
You’ve got to be fucking joking me.
I glare at him. “I do not want it to be Lorcan.”
“Yes, you do. All the fucking bitches love him more.” He gets to his feet, glaring back like I’ve skinned his pet cat to make a fur coat.
“You’re an idiot,” I say for want of a better insult. Any minute Adrien is going to arrive, and Jude is acting like the love-sick jealous boyfriend I never knew him to be. Suddenly my head pounds. I really don’t get men. Minor things seem to trigger them.
“And I thought you cared, but maybe I was fucking wrong about that,” he sneers at me. When I don’t say anything back, he scowls. “Fuck this. I’m going to get a drink.” He leaves me in the bathroom, not looking back as he storms out.
I don’t chase after him.
I don’t have the energy.
After he’s gone, I splash cold water on my face and re-apply my makeup. I can’t focus on anything but Adrien—not the boys acting like jealous assholes, not Dante still not answering my messages, and definitely not the decision I’ve made to leave after this is all over.
Like she said she would, Quinn came good with the IDs I asked her for. She slipped them into my hand when we were trying on the dresses in the morning. It’s everything I need for me and Rebecca to disappear completely.
It’s what I’ve always done to survive, to keep the monster from being caged. After Adrien is dead, even if no one is chasing me and Dante does let me go…my inner demon will always lurk beneath this innocent facade. One mistake is all it will take to send me down that dark hole of no return. Everyone and everything I touch turns to ash. Jude was sent to juvie, Lorcan was injured in a car crash, and Dino was ripped open by my own hands. And Dante will never stop hunting me.
I can’t go through that again.
I won’t.
I refuse to.
Before I head back to the rehearsal drinks, I check my phone for messages from Dante. Nothing. I sent him one earlier asking for a truce which he’s ignored. I need to kill Adrien tonight, but once I do, I open the game up to whatever Dante has planned for me. Savino may be my only answer…If he ever turns up.
Enough of this bullshit.
I scroll through my phone, looking for Polina’s number. It’s the one contact I have for the agency. After several rings, past the point where I think they might not care to talk to me, it connects.
“Viola, how’s life?” It’s Iskar.