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  Grinding my teeth, I grab Arthur’s hand and entwine my fingers with his. The glass that I gave to him poisoned my husband, but I will not go down for this. I’m not the murderer here. I will find the real one, and I will bring him to justice. Whatever the cost.

  ***

  PHOENIX

  From a distance, I watch the crowd as they bend over his grave. The umbrella I’m carrying barely keeps the rain from soaking my coat, but at least it’s something. I fucking hate the rain. I prefer sunny days over any other, especially when there’s a funeral. Nothing dampens a happy day more than rain, and this should be one fucking marvelous day.

  I eliminated my target. The grave has been dug. The casket containing his body has been lowered into the ground. It’s truly done. Mission accomplished.

  However, that woman and my stupid conscience interfering with the job really put a damper on everything. Just by rescuing her, I put myself at risk. If she remembers anything about that day, then she knows I’m the one who murdered her husband. Judging from the way she acted around me, I don’t think she’d be afraid to fight me on who’s responsible for his death. Even though she was the one who ultimately pulled the trigger on him, I was the one who handed her the weapon.

  I don’t think she’ll be pleased.

  The thought alone makes me grin.

  I love it when people are angry with me. Makes for a good show.

  She doesn’t know I’m here, and she doesn’t need to know. I’ve been watching her for days, listening to conversations, hoping to catch something that indicates she remembers. If she’s going to tell anyone what she knows, I’d rather be prepared than sorry.

  The way she holds the hand of the man next to her pisses me off, though. Not just because I fucked her, hell no, I’m never jealous. No, I hate it because it means they’re getting close … and whoever she gets close to will learn the truth eventually. No one is safe. No one can be trusted. Everyone will turn into my enemy in the blink of an eye.

  I’d rather not cause more deaths than necessary, but if she starts hunting for the truth, I can’t promise anything. Not even if she begs me to … although, of course, I would love to hear it. I can already hear her raspy voice as she asks me to spare her life, touching my body with those soft hands of hers. So desperate to save herself, that she’d even let me fuck her … over and over again until finally I’d kill her anyway. Because that’s just how I roll.

  I have one rule for anyone who dares to come into my life; don’t fuck with me, or I’ll fucking kill you. I make zero exceptions. Just because you have a vagina doesn’t mean you’re any less likely to die.

  I snort as the crowd near the grave starts to walk away, with the exception of Mister and Missus hold-hands. She leans up against him, and he wraps his hands tightly around her body. Aww … they’re hugging. How sweet. Barf.

  If I wasn’t fucking forced to watch her and make sure she didn’t tell on me, I would’ve gone over there and thrown him into the grave with that other bastard. They both belong there anyway. Yeah, I know they’re brothers, but I also know neither of them is good, even though this one portrays himself to be. Fucking liars, all of them, including her. They’re all living a lie, and they know it. And I’m here wondering when the fuck they’re all going to wake up and see what they’re doing.

  Too bad for me, it’s only going to get worse. The guy next to her caresses her cheek as she gazes into his eyes. She looks upset, confused even, but I can’t tell well from this distance. However, what I can clearly see is when he leans in to kiss her.

  Fucking hell.

  Now I want to kill him, too.

  Luckily, she takes her lips off his very quickly, and she leans away from him. I guess dear brother-in-law didn’t quite cut it. Of course … no kiss matches up to mine. I’m probably still haunting her dreams … and nightmares … and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  CHAPTER 7

  VANESSA

  When Arthur presses his lips onto mine, it feels like I’ve gone to heaven. A piece of me floats away as I let him kiss me, dazed by his sudden affection. It makes me feel wanted, something I’ve not experienced in a long time.

  However, it isn’t right. Not now. Not here. Even though kissing him is the best feeling in the world right now … I can’t kiss Arthur. Not yet. It’s too soon. It feels wrong. What would people think? Phillip’s death is still too fresh.

  I place my hand on Arthur’s chest and push back, allowing room between us. “I can’t,” I murmur.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,” he says, looking down at the ground. “I just hate to see you unhappy like this.”

  My hand instinctively reaches for his face to caress his cheek. “I know. It’s okay.”

  He frowns. “I’m trying to fight it, Vanessa. I really am.” He sighs. “This is all my fault.”

  “Stop, don’t say that. You aren’t the cause of his death.”

  “No, but I’m making things more confusing than they already are.”

  “How?” I ask, cocking my head.

  He smiles at me. “I’ve always desired you, Vanessa. I won’t lie. I tried to hide it for your sake … for my brother’s sake.”

  I place my finger on his lips. “Say no more.”

  He nods, realizing now is not the time for love.

  Now is the time for mourning. Even if we don’t feel bad about his death, the very least we can do is respect those who do.

  I turn my head away to catch a fresh breeze when I notice a man standing between two graves not far from here. I can’t see much, except his dark suit and umbrella, and the way his shades glisten in the light of the lamp as he turns around.

  He was watching us.

  Taking a deep breath, I say, “Arthur, I have to go.”

  “Why? Where are you going?” he asks.

  “I … I just want to be alone for a while. I hope you don’t mind. You go sit with the rest of the people, okay?” I turn around and start walking toward the man who’s walking away at an increasing speed.

  “Okay …” Arthur says, but I’m no longer listening.

  All I can focus on is that man with the umbrella as he walks toward the exit of the premises. He wasn’t just standing there; he was spying on us, and I want to know why. Because if my instincts are right, I know who he is.

  What I’m doing is dangerous, and I’m fully aware of the consequences of my actions. I could be hurt or, worse, killed. However, I need answers. I have to know why.

  The faster he walks, the more I speed up, which quickly turns into running. When he heads around the corner, I lose sight of him, but I know he’s going to the parking lot. He must be. I mean, there’s nowhere else to go.

  Except as I pass the gate, I don’t see anyone.

  With my hand above my eyes to block the rain, I gaze around. The parking lot is completely empty and there’s not a soul in sight.

  I make my way toward my car, constantly looking around me because I’m afraid the guy might jump me. I wonder if he already raced off with his car, but that wouldn’t make any sense because then I would have heard something. He must be hiding somewhere, in which case it only makes it scarier. I have to get somewhere safe, quickly.

  When I get to my car, I turn off the locks which beep and then jerk open the door, so I can get inside fast and slam the door shut before anyone tries to come in. My breathing is rapid and my heart beats out of control as I stare through the front window, looking for him. Rain clatters on the window, almost making it impossible to see anything, so I turn on the windshield wipers. Shivering, I turn on the heater and try to calm myself down. Maybe it wasn’t him at all. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

  “Hello, Vanessa.”

  I scream, but a gloved hand smothering my face muffles my sounds. “Be quiet.”

  Squealing, I try to pull his fingers away from my mouth, but he comes around from the other side and points something sharp at my throat. “I said be quiet!”

  Air enters my nose with short, shallow breaths as I suppress the tears. It’s him. I was right. He was watching us.

  “Don’t try anything. Don’t even fucking move a muscle,” he says gruffly.

  I nod my head, but stop immediately when I feel the sharp edge of the blade against my flesh.

  “Feel this?” he asks, as he pushes the blade further. It’s so sharp; I can feel it cut me just a bit. Enough for a droplet of blood to roll down and fall into my lap. “It’s very sharp and it just loves some fresh blood, especially when it comes from a pretty girl like you.”

  I swallow when he says that, fear settling in my veins.

  “You try anything, and I will kill you. Do you understand?” he growls.

  I nod, blinking away the impending tears.

  “Good. I’ll take my hand away but not this knife. You’d better stick to what you just agreed to, or it’s going to cut straight through your neck.”

  When he slides his glove off my face, I suck a big breath. Then the questions come rolling out. “You killed him. Are you going to kill me too now?”

  “No.” He laughs, running his fingers through his coal black hair. I don’t dare look back at his face, but I can see his eyes narrow at me through the rearview mirror. “I might be a murderer, but I don’t just kill anyone, unless they get in my way.”

  “You poisoned my husband!”

  His lip quirks up into a smile. “Well, technically, you did.”

  I frown. “You won’t get away with this.”

  He cocks his head. “The question you should be asking is: Will you?”

  “How dare you? You want to put the blame on me, but I’m not the murderer here.”

  He leans in, so close that my breath hitches when he whispers into my ear, “Oh, yes you are …” He taps the knife against my throat like it’s a toy. “Stop lying to yourself, Vanessa. You and I both know you’re full of it. But you can’t fool me.”

  He slips back into his seat, watching me while tapping his fingers on his leg. My lips part, but I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know what to say that will get him to talk without cutting my head off.

  “You ruined everything …” I say after a while.

  “Oh, really? Why is that? Because I killed your traitorous, adulterous husband?” With his teeth, he tugs on the barbell underneath his lip, as if he’s enjoying this.

  “Screw you,” I spit, but when he pushes the knife into my skin, I lean into my seat again. “I won’t go down for this.”

  “Neither will I, sweet cheeks,” he mocks. “But one of us has to. I’m betting it’s going to be you. It’s not looking good as it is, especially not with everyone seeing you run off with some other guy at the party.”

  My lungs suddenly feel constricted. I can’t breathe.

  “Imagine the tabloids. Scorned wife kills unfaithful husband out of revenge. I can already see the headlines in front of me.”

  He makes a frame with his free hand and then makes a snapping sound in my direction. I blink a couple of times, expecting the knife to bury itself deep in my throat. I don’t know why he wouldn’t do it. I’m the only one who knows the truth. If I’m dead, the secret is buried with me. If I were him, I would kill me right now. Not that I don’t want to live. I’m just stating the facts.

  “Don’t you think it’s ironic? Perfect, really. Like the opposite of a fucking fairy tale.” He laughs out loud, making all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask. “Are you just here to laugh in my face after killing my husband?”

  Within the blink of an eye, his face turns all serious again. “I’m here to tell you to give up now. Don’t look for me. Don’t follow me. Don’t try to find me. Don’t for a second think that you can pin this on me.”

  He pushes the knife further into my throat, causing another tiny stream of blood to roll down my neck. “Make no mistake. I will kill you, and it won’t be as gentle as the way your husband died.”

  Immediately, I’m reminded of the car crash but, of course, he’s referring to the poison. Phillip was never meant to get into his car, and yet, he did it anyway.

  “This is just a warning, but I will come back for you if you try anything. You understand?” he says with a low voice that causes goosebumps to scatter across my skin.

  I nod quickly. “Yes.” The moment the word spills from my mouth, I already know it’s a lie … and I think he knows, too.

  He leans closer, breathing hot air onto my skin, which tingles in an oh so wrong way. “Good girl. See you around, Princess.”

  And then the knife suddenly disappears along with him.

  Holding my neck to prevent more blood from spilling, I turn around in my seat, but by that time, the door has already slammed shut. With his umbrella above his head, he strolls to his own car not far from mine. As he opens the door and sits down, he keeps his eyes focused on my car. Our eyes connect, and for a moment, I’m awestruck. He didn’t kill me. Instead, he walked away with only a threat … One I don’t believe, but a threat nonetheless.

  As he drives backward, I can clearly see his license plate. It surprises me that he didn’t rip it off prior to our meeting. He probably wants me to see it and remember it, forcing me to choose. Act on it, or leave it alone and forget about it all.

  He’s tempting me … persuading me to act. Well, I will take on this dare. May the best liar win.

  CHAPTER 8

  VANESSA

  The next day

  For days, I feel followed. Wherever I go, someone’s always behind me. Whether it’s a car, a person stalking closely, or suspicious coincidences, everything makes me feel nervous. It’s as if I’m losing my mind. Half of it probably is my imagination and the other part … well, let’s just say that a car with a very peculiar license plate has been showing up on my street every so often. It’s like he’s spying on me, waiting for me to take the bait, but I know I won’t catch him. Not before he catches me.

  The only thing I can do is go after him in a way he least expects it. Visit him in a place he wouldn’t think I’d go. He probably thinks I don’t have the guts for it, but I’ll prove him wrong. I will find the evidence I need and show the police who the real killer is. That way they won’t be able to pin it on me.

  Sliding aside the curtains, I look out the window and stare at the license plate. The numbers are etched into my memory; I’ve seen them so many times. I guess it shouldn’t be too hard for my friends at the police station to find out who it belongs to.

  I make a quick call to my father. “Father.”

  “Hi, honey. How are you? We haven’t spoken since … well, are you feeling better?”

  He wasn’t even at the funeral. He was too busy using a pair of scissors to cut a ribbon around a new opera building that just opened in town. Guess some things are more important than others are. Oh well, I can’t blame him. I would’ve given anything to be anywhere but at that grave.

  “Yeah, much better,” I lie. I’m being threatened not to spill the truth to the police while they’re about to find out it was me who gave the glass containing the poison to Phillip. I’d hardly call that ‘better.’

  “Hey, I was wondering … Could you get a license plate number checked for me?” I ask with a sweet voice.

  “Honey … We talked about this.”

  “I know, Father, but this is important. I promise you, you’ll want to help me on this.”

  “I can’t just abuse my connections.”

  “Please?” I ask with an even sweeter voice.

  He sighs. “Oh, all right.”

  “Thank you!” I say. “I’ll send you the number via text.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I don’t know if they will tell me what you want to know, but I can try.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll get it done. They always listen to you. You’re such an inspiration for the city!” I really need to stop, before I barf in my mouth.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you. Let me know when you get it.”

  “Should be within a couple of days.”

  “Okay. Loved talking to you. Bye.” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else. It’s not unusual to get what I want without being very nice. This is just how things go in our family. We use and abuse to our heart’s content.

  Oh well, time for my treatment at the spa. I have to do something while I wait for the call anyway … besides, it’s not like I’m followed or anything, and that I have to keep up the charade. Oh, but wait, I do.

  Which is why I pretend that I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary, as usual. I’m good at playing the dumbass. It provides a good cover so I can surprise people when I waltz all over them. They never see what’s coming their way until it’s too late.

  I need the info my father will supply, so there’s plenty of time to waste.

  All good things come to those who wait.

  ***

  One hour later…

  When I’m back home, the first thing I do is lounge on the couch with a cold drink. I’m finally able to have a living room to myself without Phillip claiming the television. You know, I never knew how wonderful it would be not to have him around. You know what? I’m glad he died. I’m not going to lie. I hated his guts, and there’s no point in denying it. I almost feel bad for wanting him gone even sooner. Almost.

  Taking a deep breath, I look out the window and enjoy the short bursts of sunlight when all of the sudden the doorbell rings.

  Pablo, our housekeeper, goes to open it. “Mrs. Starr. It’s the police.”

  Frowning, I get up from my seat. “What do they want?”

  “Could you come to the door, please, Mrs. Starr,” I hear the police call out.

  I tiptoe to the door in my ballet shoes, only to find a man staring at me with parted lips and a cold look on his face.