Beautiful Revenge (A Good Wife Book 1)

by Sienna Blake

  He releases me. I stumble back, my hands now reaching for my throat. He still wants me. But he doesn’t love me. He would ravage me tonight, then flaunt it in front of the only two people who care about me. This is his plan to ruin me.

  I almost fell for it.

  He lifts his eyes, fury glittering in those icy depths. Past the flames I see…pain, oh, so much pain. A raw, open wound. A sadness that wells so deep I cannot glimpse the bottom.

  I’ve rejected him. Again.

  My heart tears apart for him. I forget that he means to destroy me. All I want to do is help soothe his wounds. Wounds that I made. I take a step towards him, my hands reaching for him.

  “Dimitri?” It’s a familiar sweet voice calling from just inside the terrace door.

  Emily.

  Shit.

  I can’t let her see me here. Not like this. Not with Dimitri. Not with our kiss still splashed across our faces and our pasts bleeding from our chests. She’ll know. It’ll break her sweet little heart. She’ll tell her father. I will be ruined.

  I turn and run into the darkness of the terrace. I tumble into the house through a far door. I keep running, the opulent hallways blurring around me as I speed through them, relying on instinct rather than clear sight, until I’m stumbling into my room upstairs and falling into bed, my heels kicking off to the floor.

  I curl into a ball, my energy zapped too much for me to even take off my dress. It is a long while before I succumb to the darkness.

  No one comes for me.

  Not Emily.

  Not my husband.

  Not even the one I fear—and want—the most.

  33

  ____________

  Alena

  I feel a soft, warm body snuggling up to my back.

  Dimitri?

  I let out a sigh and turn around to face him. I realise with a start that the body is too small, too soft to be Dimitri. I snap my eyes open with a gasp.

  Emily is curled up beside me, her warm grey eyes fixed on mine. Despite the slight bags under her eyes, she looks awake and alert.

  I sag with relief. “Oh, Emily. It’s you.” I rub the sleep from my eyes and glance over to the curtains stained with early morning light. It can’t be any later than seven a.m.

  Emily laughs, cuddling up closer to me, twisting her small feet into mine. “Who did you think I was?”

  “No one,” I say a little too quickly as a memory invades my mind. His arms wrap around me, pulling me back against him. I relax into his arms. When he holds me, the warmth comes from the inside. I shake this memory from me.

  Thankfully, Emily doesn’t notice. She’s too busy smiling at the ceiling. “I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you, Leni. I’ve missed you.”

  A stab of guilt hits me. In trying to avoid Dimitri I’ve neglected her. I resolve to be a better friend, to stop being so wrapped up in my own troubles. “I’m sorry, Em. Let’s do something today, just you and me, like we used to.”

  Her face falls. “Oh.” Guilt creeps over her features. “Dimitri and I were going to take the horses out today. You can come with us, if you want?”

  I can’t. I can’t stand to watch Dimitri dance around Emily for my sake. Oh, sweet, innocent Emily, can’t you see he’s using you? I force a smile that I know is weak. “Do you really think you should take him out riding?” Dimitri has never been on a horse. I can’t say outright that I know this. “Does he know how to ride?”

  “Oh, yes. He has horses back in America.”

  He does? Her words stun me. I used to know everything about him. Now he is a stranger. A stranger who kissed me last night like he knew me.

  “He’s so handsome,” Emily says, her small teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, “and he’s such a great dancer. We danced all night last night after you left.”

  I swallow down a ball in my throat. “Oh?”

  “Oh, Alena,” she breathes, “I think I’m in love.”

  Emily’s words stab my chest. You can’t love him, I want to scream at her. He’s mine! I shove this thought aside. “You…You hardly know him.”

  “I know enough.”

  Panic jitters inside me. Love? No. She can’t love him. She can’t. “But he’s…he’s too old for you. You’re barely eighteen.”

  She frowns. “You were only sixteen when you married my father.”

  “I’m just saying, don’t go rushing into things before you know…”

  She pulls away, her feet untwisting from mine. Her voice becomes pebbled. “You don’t think he likes me back.”

  I know he doesn’t, I want to cry. He kissed me last night. He asked me to go to bed with him. I can’t tell her that. It’ll kill her. It’ll ruin me. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” I say, “that’s all.”

  “Well, I know he likes me,” she cries. “He danced with me all night. And he kissed me.”

  My mouth drops open in horror. “He didn’t.”

  “He did.” She folds her arms, a smug look on her face.

  My stomach twists with pain. Were his lips still warm from mine when he pressed them to Emily’s?

  Oh my God. I suck in a breath. “Did you…” oh, God, I don’t want to know the answer. “Did you sleep with him?”

  Emily scowls. “Of course not. I’m not a whore.” Her choice of word tears an old wound open.

  “Don’t fucking touch me, you whore.”

  “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not—”

  “Marrying a man for money? Fucking a stranger for money? Don’t kid yourself at what you will become if you do this.”

  Despite my pain there is relief. Dimitri didn’t sleep with her. He didn’t take Emily’s virginity to wound me. At least he didn’t go that far. I sag at this reprieve. Only for a second.

  Emily’s watching me. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

  Your happiness is a lie. “Of course I do…”

  “Why can’t you be happy about me and Dimitri?”

  How can I, when I know that her crush on Dimitri is wrong? Oh, sweet girl, if you only knew. What do I say when the truth will only destroy us both? “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Emily’s lips press together. “I have to get ready.” She shoves the blankets off her and strides to my door, her knee-length flannel nightgown flaring behind her.

  “Emily,” I sit up, “come back.”

  She slams the door behind her.

  34

  ____________

  Alena

  By the time I get down to breakfast, there is only my place setting left. I sit, my eyes unfocused on the cream and rose wallpaper that dresses the breakfast room.

  Coffee is set down in front of me with such a clatter that it spills onto the saucer.

  I look up with a start. Mrs Bates is hovering at my shoulder.

  She never serves us breakfast. Even if she did, she never serves me. She always sends one of the younger maids to do that.

  She’s glaring at me, something menacing in her crow-black eyes. My stomach flips. She leans in, her eyes narrowing. “I saw you last night. You and Mr Wolf.”

  The blood drains from my face. She saw him kiss me. She followed us out to the balcony.

  Despite the way my insides are screaming, I inject the most apathy I can into my voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You looked pretty cosy dancing with him.”

  I almost sag into my chair. Thank God. She didn’t see the kiss. “It’s a dance. You have to get pretty close to your dance partner to dance.” I pick up my coffee and shoot her a snide look. “Not that you’d know, seeing as nobody would want to dance with an old crone like you.”

  She scowls at me. “You think you’re so clever. I see the way you look at him when you don’t think anyone’s watching. I see the way he looks at you. You never notice me watching, do you? Well, I see. There’s something going on. When I get proof I’m going to take it straight to your husband.”

  I stiffen. “E
ven if you do get proof of whatever you think is going on, what do you hope will happen when you run to Edgar? That he’ll leave me and marry you?” I let out a curt laugh. “You’re dreaming.”

  “You are a spiteful, hateful child. You don’t deserve Edgar.”

  “He is Mr Worthington to you. Don’t forget, you’re just the help. I’m his wife.”

  “Not for long.”

  I snort. Even though I am panicking inside. I shove the saucer and cup at her. “The coffee is cold. Go get me another one.” Steam is still rising from the black liquid.

  “Mark my words, Alena,” she hisses, “I will find out what’s going on.” She snatches the coffee cup and shoots me a final glare before striding away, chin held high.

  I sink into my chair along with my hope. What am I going to do?

  35

  ____________

  Alena

  Dimitri kissed Emily.

  He did it to hurt me.

  Just to hurt me.

  And oh, how he has hurt me. I am a throbbing wreck of pain. I need to stanch the blood flow. I need to cauterise these wounds. I tuck my grief away into the wooden box deep in my mind; I’ve gotten good at this. Later I can deal with this grief, this final loss of hope. Not today.

  Today I need to force Dimitri out.

  When I sneak into Dimitri’s bedroom after dinner, making sure I’m not seen, he’s standing by the side cabinet pouring himself a drink.

  His eyes darken when he sees me, rejection flashing in them like lightning. “What do you want?”

  I close the door behind me and walk towards him, my steps shaky. My hands are clammy and I have to keep wiping them on my skirt. I have to stay strong. “I’m here to ask you, no…to beg you—”

  “Alena Ivanova is begging me?” Dimitri leans against the wall, a cruel glint in his eyes. He lifts his drink to the air as if to salute me. “Do go on.”

  “Please,” my voice warbles, “leave.”

  “Leave this room?” he asks with mock surprise.

  Bastard. He knows very well what I’m asking. “Leave this house. Do business with my husband if you must, but please, leave me,” and Emily, “alone.”

  He stares at me, the right side of his lip lifting in a horrible half-smile. “Get on your knees.”

  “What?”

  “If you’re going to beg, do it properly.”

  Dimitri drops to his knees in front of me. His face has cracked wide open, but it’s not anger showing raw and naked on his face.

  It’s desperation.

  “Alena,” he grabs my hand, “I beg of you, don’t do this.”

  “Dimi, I—”

  “Don’t marry him. Marry me.”

  My breath catches in my lungs. Dimitri watches me from across the room over his scotch glass. From the darkness in his eyes, I can tell he’s remembering the same thing.

  I stiffen. “You can’t be serious.”

  “You want me to leave? Get. On. Your. Knees.”

  He wants to crush me. To wound my pride like I did his. He is crueller than ever.

  You did this to him.

  I’ll do it if it will get him away from me, then I can just go back to my life. It was empty but at least I had Emily to love. Now, with him here, I can barely love her.

  I slide to my knees. His eyes flash with fiery triumph. “Please, Dimitri. Please, leave.”

  Dimitri places his drink on the side table and pushes off the wall, striding towards me. My breath turns to stone in my throat as he stands right before me. I am well aware of the suggestive position I am in. His cock is at eye level. I force myself not to look at it. Instead I look up, locked into the intensity of his stare. I know he wants to demean me. To embarrass me. My body burns with the indignity of it. Heat pools between my legs.

  I gasp when he places his fingertips on my cheek, a riot of sparks cascading from his touch. He brushes my hair off my face almost tenderly. My heart skitters with hope.

  His perfect lips pull into a smile. “No.”

  The bastard. I leap to my feet, my hands in fists by my side. “You told me you’d leave if I begged.”

  “No,” he says in a bored tone, “I told you to beg on your knees. I made no promises as to the outcome of your begging.” He turns away as if to dismiss me.

  My body shakes with rage. I grab his arm and whip him around to face me. “I’ll tell my husband who you are. He’ll kick you—”

  “You tell him who I am and I’ll tell him we slept together.”

  I gasp. “You wouldn’t.” My contract. If I’m deemed to have been promiscuous I lose everything. More than lose everything, I’ll owe my husband a hundred thousand pounds. It’s a debt I can never hope to crawl out of.

  Dimitri’s eyes glitter with mad pleasure. He has me over a barrel. And he knows it. “Do you wish to test me?”

  He would do it too. I can see it in his eyes. “Edgar won’t believe you,” I try.

  Dimitri grabs my upper arms with his hands, gripping me tight as vices. “Really? What are you doing in my room, Mrs Worthington?”

  I struggle against him. “Let go.”

  He pulls me closer, crushing me against his hard body. “Go on,” he says, “scream. Alert your husband to your presence in my room.”

  Bastard.

  I hate him. I struggle to knee him, to kick him. My damn skirt is in my way and he’s too close to get any leverage.

  He’s much too close. All those old aches and wants flood back into my body. Five years I’ve dreamed of being this close to him again. His familiar touch, his familiar smell, his presence around me swilling like a poison. His touch burns me. He seeps into me. He sinks his teeth into my soul.

  I am lightheaded. I need oxygen. I part my lips as I suck in air. His eyes dip to my mouth. Something flares in his eyes. Despite everything, he wants to give in to me too. I involuntarily lick my lips. His stare turns…ravenous.

  He lets out a small hum, his lips vibrating along my skin as he traces them across my cheekbone towards my ear. “Mrs Worthington.” His voice is like liquid. “Alena,” he whispers, almost tenderly, sending me back to five years ago. I can feel his grip loosening on my arms but he doesn’t pull away. The ache coils tighter in my stomach. His hands move up my arms, his thumbs tracing the outer swell of my breasts sending shivers through me. This soft Dimitri is dangerous, more dangerous than the cold stranger. He appears too much like the old Dimitri, the one I love. I feel my self-control unwinding, my fingers curling into his shirt, as he presses his arousal against my hip. I bite down on a moan. Despite everything, my body screams to give in to him.

  “Well,” his breath tickles my ear, “if I’m going to accuse you of being a whore, you might as well be one.”

  I shove him back. He lets go of me, laughing.

  “You bastard.” My breath heaves out of my lungs, my neck and cheeks flaming red. He’s playing with me. Toying with me. I want to strangle him.

  He smirks at me and shrugs. “At least I can admit what I am.”

  His words reach into my chest and wring my heart. “If you won’t go, at least leave Emily alone.”

  “She is the one who won’t leave me alone.”

  “You kissed her.”

  He smiles at me, cold and hateful. “Are you jealous?”

  “Why are you like this? How could you be so cruel? Why do you want to torment me?”

  “Why? Why?” His face cracks apart. “You broke me,” he roars. “You destroyed me when you chose him over me. You filled me so full of bitter hatred, it is all that I taste. It’s all I breathe.” His voice trembles with anguish.

  My heart breaks right there. His eyes so open and raw, I can see right into his charred soul. The pieces of his heart that I broke all those years ago are still jagged and sharp. With every breath he takes, they cut him, making him bleed from the inside.

  “I’m sorry, Dimi. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s too fucking late for sorry. It’s five years too late.”

  It
can’t be too late. It can’t.

  Love can triumph over hate. It can.

  I reach out for him. My voice is pained as I beg—as I beg— “Dimi, please…”

  “Get out,” he spits, causing me to snatch my hand back. “It would be very cruel for your husband to find you here alone with me in my bedroom. We wouldn’t want him to get any wrong ideas.”

  “I am not a cheater, Dimitri. Don’t you dare insinuate that I am.”

  “Just a whore, then.”

  His words slap me across my face. Pain spreads from where they strike me. “Fuck you.”

  “No, you never did get to give that to me, did you? You gave that pleasure to your worthless husband.”

  When Dimitri arrived at Worthington Manor, my hope took flight. To see him again, after all these years, to know that he found me, that he came here for me. Even after I realised that he wanted revenge, I still believed. Even after every cruel word, I still hoped. I thought that I could get through to him. That he couldn’t stay angry at me forever. I thought deep down that we would finally get our happily ever after.

  But I have flown too close to the sun, allowed my hopes to soar too high. Hope has melted and my heart has plunged towards the ground, swirling and twisting, until finally crashing on the sharp, jagged rocks.

  He still wants me. He hates me more.

  He will never forgive me.

  He will never love me again.

  36

  ____________

  Dimitri

  Alena was wrong. I didn’t correct her. Emily kissed me.

  For a second I kissed Emily back. I thought it would give me satisfaction. I thought it might even be a pleasant way to pass the time here, Emily being a pretty girl. Except all I could think about was her.

  Alena.

  Alena.

  Alena.

  My blood beat out her name through my veins. I tore my mouth off Emily and made some excuse about not wanting to disrespect her father in his own house. I went to bed soon after, locking my door behind me to make sure that Emily didn’t get any ideas.