"I'm not crazy, and neither are you. We're the perfect mix: sane, on the verge of insanity." I ran my hand through her silky locks, kissing the top of her head. I’d grown accustomed to moments like these.
I loved holding her and our child in my arms, just like this. It was peaceful.
After twenty minutes, her breathing evened out.
I didn't want to wake her, so we stayed like that until she roused on her own.
Chapter Forty-Six
Three missed calls from Kieran.
I wasn't sure what he wanted. Dakota's father had retired last month; he was the official chief of police now. It wasn’t like he hadn't been running the department to begin with.
He'd also been hanging around the Dahlia much more than usual, abruptly stopping about a week ago. I was certain he had a thing for my wife. If he wanted to keep his dick intact, he would avoid her.
I'd sent Belle to Redwood to keep an eye on him and had yet to hear from her, which didn't surprise me. She was probably drunk off her ass and sleeping her way back to sobriety.
Placing my phone in the plastic bin outside the Red Room, I suited up before going in. I’d started giving Morgana a harmless sedative to sleep through the night. Not having to worry about what she was doing, I could relax and enjoy myself.
Phillip recognized me, of course. His gag prevented him from saying anything.
He'd shit all over the floor and was a sweaty mess. The entire room had a rank smell.
"Phillip, you're shitting already?" I clucked my tongue at him, moving to the tool table. He was such a sloppy fucking disgrace. Before the video had come in handy, my father and I had been livid that he’d kept actual raw footage of what he was doing.
Everyone knew that was rule number one. You never kept the evidence that would implicate you if things somehow went wayside.
That was highly unlikely given our resources, but one could never be too careful.
So, we may have let a few high spenders know what Phillip liked to do in his spare time.
Looking at the prompt screen from those same big spenders watching the show, I looked at all the ideas rolling in. Picking up a mallet and a pair of sharpened hedge clippers, I walked back to where a nude Phillip sat in his own feces.
"I want to thank you, Uncle Phil. My life is quite good thanks to you. If you hadn't met your wife, my father wouldn't have met Lacy. Do you see where I'm going with this? “I kept my voice low, ensuring none of the spectators heard me.
Bringing the garden sheers up to his left nipple, I cut it off and listened to the music of his screams, pulling the gag from his mouth.
"If you didn't, I wouldn't have met Morgana." I snipped off his right nipple, making sure the audience could see the blood spurt.
"Ah, come on, Phil. Toughen up," I sighed, watching him sob. "That's what you used to tell me. Remember?"
"Don't hurt...her," he moaned. I furrowed my brows at him, grabbing for the mallet.
"I find your concern mildly sickening. You fuck one daughter and attempt to save the other? She’s safer with me than she could have ever been with you," I whispered harshly in his ear before slamming the mallet down on his testicles. He howled in pain, thrashing in his restraints.
I replaced the mallet and the shears, grabbing a scalpel. I promised Porter he could have his turn, so I couldn't kill him, but I could amp up his fear. Lifting his disgusting anteater-shaped cock, I sliced the scalpel into it on either side.
After adding another four cuts on his rib cage, I reached for the container beneath the chair. Removing the lid, I dumped the fresh leeches across his body, starting with his bloody cock, ending at his bloodied nipples. The fat little worms wiggled around on his sweaty skin.
This was more of a scare tactic than anything else. Leeches were harmless.
They'd suck about a teaspoon of blood and fall off on their own. He'd barely even feel it.
Of course, Phillip didn't know that.
"Well, Porter will be in soon to cauterize your wounds. Have a good night." I patted him on the head and shoved the gag back in his mouth. He had about fifteen minutes to stew.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I felt him touching me, his hard body pressed against mine, strong arms slipping around my waist. Keeping my eyes closed, I leaned my head back against his chest.
He smelled freshly showered for the fourth night in a row, and I knew he wasn't showering in our bathroom. Moving away from him as fast as I could, I turned and sat up on my knees.
"I haven't been with anyone else." His eyes narrowed, answering the first question I was going to ask him. We'd had a similar argument a week ago.
"Then where have you been?" Knowing the alternative answer already, I waited for him to tell me himself. The baby shifted inside me, catching his attention.
"Look at you, Dollface. You have a part of me inside you. No one could ever be as beautiful as you are to me right now."
I wrinkled my nose at him. Beautiful?
"My boobs are swollen; my vagina has been swallowed by my stomach. Constipation, mood swings, not to mention I can't find a comfortable sleeping position. Which part is beautiful?"
He sat up, crawling across the bed to me. His hands came to rest on either side of my round bump. "We made this. That's not beautiful? And you're always beautiful." He grasped my face, pushing against my lips with his until he got access.
“I’ll do better for you, I promise.”
Holding back my tears, I nodded, but refused to get my hopes up I knew he cared about me. I knew he loved me, but him loving me was no longer good enough.
Him loving me wasn't enough to stop the compulsion in his brain that told him to kill.
He recreated our very first dinner on the balcony outside our room. I didn't have particularly fond memories of the ordeal, not after what happened the last time we ate there together.
But he'd tried. It was a sweet gesture. The day before, he had roses waiting for me on the nightstand. For a few nights, he hadn't disappeared. We slept together without tearing off our clothes and screwing like jack rabbits.
Some women may have thought their husband had turned a new leaf, that I had suddenly up and stopped having an addiction to pain.
None of that was true.
We could fool the outside world without much effort, but we could never fool each other. He knew me, and I knew him.
"Julian, what's going on?" I was patient, waiting until we were halfway done with our meal, before letting him tell me what he wanted.
"What do you mean?"
"We can sit here and pretend to be normal, but I'm still a sick, needy masochist who uses you as a stand in for my drugs, and you're still a sadist." He smiled at me, showing his dimples, continually reminding me how gorgeous he was.
"I need you to read this." He slid a small packet of papers across the glass-topped table. The soft glowing embers on the tiki torch allowed me to read it with ease.
"You...want me to sign over my legal rights? Do you want to lock me away?" I reread the papers before me.
"I barely let you set foot outside of this house. When you're mad and telling me to leave you alone, do I?
No, I give you my cock and make you come back to your senses. I constantly tell you I love you. I check on you at least five times a day. Do you honestly think I'd ever let you go? That answer is no, Morgana. I will never let you go. If I wanted to lock you away, I have a variety of rooms I could put you in."
Not responding, I studied a key section of the document. "Phillip and Julie are dead?" I gaped across the table at him. He sighed, seemingly annoyed, and leaned forward.
"They had a terrible accident. I didn't think you would care." He didn’t bat an eyelid as he told me another one of his lies.
"Why even bring me these? Why not just forge my signature?"
"I did forge your signature. That's just a copy."
He essentially had total control over my life. My finances were all his finances; the part of the Chateau th
at would be mine was his.
I could have cared less about any of that. It was the principle that pissed me off.
"So, that's what this was all about? A stupid house that I don't give a damn about. I would have just given it to you."
"It became less about the house and more about you. Ensuring you couldn’t go anywhere. If you want flowers and candlelit dinners, I can give that to you. I will gladly give that to you, but don't try to change me when I've never tried to change you.
"I will never claim to be a good person, and I'll never be a pussyfooted knight in shining armor. I'm a killer, and that doesn't bother me. It doesn't bother you, either. When you admit that to yourself, things will get much easier."
He pushed away from the table and left me alone; the bedroom door slammed shut seconds later. It was the most he'd ever said to me, confirming everything I already knew.
Rising from the table, I went to the bathroom and locked the door. Reaching beneath the sink, I removed my old tampon box and took out the burner phone I'd hidden inside.
With a shaky breath, I powered it on and sent the text I never wanted to.
Chapter Forty-Eight
A fat face stared up at me, dimples already appearing on plump cheeks.
I couldn't stop staring at the tiny person that used to live in my balls. Being honest, it was a little disconcerting how many of my children had been swallowed over the years.
How had a month and a half passed already?
Tugging the rainbow swaddle blanket back down, I quietly left the room. Morgana had begged me to leave the house for a week. Once she pointed out that she hadn't left the Dahlia in over a year, I bent.
Things between us were...different. She still begged me to hurt her; I still happily obliged. But my hours were usually spent on the plans for expansion, running more live streams than ever before, and participating in a few myself.
By the time I got to bed, she would be so exhausted from taking care of a newborn, it didn't feel right to wake her.
She hadn't had a meltdown since we brought the baby home.
Her mind was solely focused on doing everything right. Belle had stepped in and started helping, after I got over my initial anger at her going anywhere near my child.
Morgana deserved a small break, nonetheless.
We cruised down a vacant back road; a relaxed smile was on her beautiful face. Her soft hand was resting in my lap.
"Dollface," I warned through gritted teeth. She stroked my hardness through my pants, her smile growing a bit wider.
"Can't you pull over?" As soon as the last word fell from her mouth, I was jerking the steering wheel and pulling the Barracuda to the shoulder. Déjà fucking vu.
Morgana
There wasn't much space in the back to work with, but we didn't care. He leaned the driver seat forward to add a bit more room. I ached for him to be inside me in a way that defied logic.
I’d skipped wearing underwear just for this moment. I took his thick cock out and straddled his lap. Biting down on my lower lip, a soft groan unfurled in my chest as he pushed inside my greedy pussy. We'd had sex a multitude of times since I gave birth, but not as frequently as we had done before.
Slowly rolling my hips, his hands clenched down on them, stopping my movements and holding me in place.
"Fuck me, don't tease me," he bit out, slamming my body down, thrusting up at the same time. His green eyes stayed locked with mine, digging his nails into my skin for my benefit.
"Julian," I breathed in his ear, kissing on his neck.
"You're perfect," he responded. The dark leather seat groaned beneath us. The heat had our skin sticking to the interior. Unable to fuck me like he wanted, he shoved me back so I rested against the front seat.
Holding my ankles in his hands, he flexed upward, stroking inside my pussy with perfectly timed movements. I repeated his name like a chant; the faster he thrust, the quicker I came. My toes curled when the pleasure washed over my body. He continued to fuck me until my pussy was sore.
I was begging him to stop, unable to take another climax.
He gave me one anyway, sucking his thumb into his mouth before using it to roll my clit
"Jules...please," I gasped, something between a moan and a squeal tearing from my throat as he forced me into another mindless orbit. When he buried himself to the hilt, coming with a soft grunt, I immediately wrapped my arms around him, trying to hide my tears.
He slowly began to relax, leaning against the hood of his car. I rested my head on his shoulder, wishing I could melt inside his embrace.
"Are you ready to go back? The baby was still asleep when we left. Belle might have gone up, anyway." I smiled at him, blinking away unshed tears. He adored that kid. Becoming a father had been good for him.
He misunderstood my sadness, thinking I wanted to stay out longer.
"You can drive,” he offered, moving back so he could cup my face.
"No, that's okay." I gripped his hands; grateful he couldn't hear my heart pounding in my chest.
"We can take the scenic route." He pressed.
"Okay," I relented with a smile, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I love you."
"I love you, Morgana...always." He gave me a gentle kiss before helping me down off the hood.
Why did he have to add that? My heart turned to ash inside my chest. Keeping up my happy front, I adjusted the driver's seat how I needed and slid behind the wheel.
"Do you believe someone's life can be planned out for them? That every person they ever met was placed there for a specific reason?" I asked him, keeping my eyes forward, checking the speedometer as I pulled back onto the road.
"Do you?" he replied smoothly.
"I know you killed my mother. I know you and your family are responsible for everything that has ever happened in my life.”
He sighed, shifting in his seat and cracking his neck. "Is there a point to all of this?"
He was so callously cruel. Not a hint of remorse or concern could be heard in his tone or found in his posture.
"Do you even really love me?"
"Me falling in love with you is what saved you."
I knew it all along but hearing it from his mouth relit the agonizing flame inside me. He’d wanted to kill me; nothing between us was real until it was too late.
"I want our baby to have a chance, to grow up loved and be normal. I don't want him to be like us."
After a minute or two of silence. "What did you do?" If we weren't in the car, the threatening tone of his voice would have me cowering in a corner.
"I love you, Jules, but I'm tired. And I don't want to pretend anymore."
Tears streamed down my face as everything I wanted for us was snatched away.
"It's not as easy as looking in a mirror and telling myself to get better. Every day is harder, and you won't help me; you won't even help yourself. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want you to keep hurting me for everything to be okay." I was rambling, repetitive words falling from my mouth on top of one another.
"Morgana—" It almost sounded like his voice broke, like he was sorry for shattering my mind into a million unfixable pieces.
"I just want the baby to have a chance. I'm sorry...we don't belong here, and I can’t go without you."
"Morgana, stop the fucking car!" He reached for the wheel, but he wasn't fast enough to stop me.
In Riverview, there's a place known as Devil’s Peak, a beautiful canyon that has tiny slivers of streams running across its dusted floor.
It’s where I discovered that madness and insanity tended to go hand in hand.
Epilogue
We stood watching Dahlia be consumed by flames.
A few benefactors stood alongside Helga and Gareth with serious looks upon their faces. It was a small victory, but for Morgana, it would have been huge.
She planned her every step, piecing together the truths from the lies, using Kieran and me to help her in any way we could. My heart broke for the t
iny bundle in my arms.
A round cherub face that was the perfect blend of Julian and Morgana slept peacefully through the carnage. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. Belle stood on my left, dramatically sobbing into Porter's shoulder.
My husband, Luca, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, unaware of all I'd done. I would force myself to stay by his side, even if he was a despicable human being.
Being in Morgana’s baby's life was the least I could do. Monsters weren't born; they were made, and I refused to let this sweet baby grow up and turn into another one of the Andreous.
Morgana did this to give her baby a chance, ensuring a tedious domino effect would ensue in the aftermath of her death.
Kieran stood across the lot, his eyes focused on his cell phone, brows furrowed.
Helga, rushing towards us, interrupted the bittersweet moment. A wide smile was on her face, tears falling from her usually emotionless eyes. My stomach sank. Belle’s eyes flashed suspiciously to mine.
Julian was alive.
That should have been impossible.
I'd stood on that fucking hill and seen Morgana's broken, bloody body with my own two eyes. Paramedics pulled her from a nightmare of crushed metal and broken glass.
As if his life was tethered to the Dahlia, the flames were doused, leaving a charred but resilient structure behind. People began rushing this way and that, some to salvage the chateau, others off to the hospital.
Luca was speaking, but I wasn’t listening. I tried to grasp onto bits of conversation, desperate to know what Morgana’s status was.
That would be the least of my worries, as terrible as it was to think.
If Julian recovered and found out what we had done…
If he pieced together who had betrayed him…
None of us would be breathing much longer.
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