He smirked, a dangerous, predatory curve of his lips.
“You rejected me once, Eliza. I won’t let that happen again.”
He held out his hand.
“Marry me. Be my wife. And I will give you the world to destroy him with.”
I didn’t stay in the hospital. I couldn't. The sterile white walls felt like a cage, and the silence was too loud. I needed to see him. I needed to look George in the eye and see if the monster I heard in that hospital room was real.
I pulled my coat tighter around my bruised body, wincing as the fabric brushed against my stitches. The night air was biting, but it was nothing compared to the cold spreading in my chest.
When the taxi pulled up to the estate, my breath hitched.
Lights.
The entire house was ablaze with them. Cars lined the driveway—expensive, sleek cars that belonged to our "friends." Music drifted through the open windows, a lively jazz tune that clashed violently with the grief screaming inside me.
A party?
My baby was dead. I almost died weeks ago. And he was throwing a party?
I pushed open the heavy oak doors.
Laughter hit me like a physical blow. The foyer was filled with people holding champagne flutes, their faces flushed with excitement.