Chapter 2

I stumbled back from the door, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob. The sounds continued from the bedroom-Dara's shrill giggle, Edward's low murmur. Each sound was a fresh wound.

"Oh, be careful, Eddy," Dara squealed. "What if she hears us?"

Edward chuckled, a low, possessive sound. "Let her. Maybe the ice queen needs to learn what real passion is."

His words were a slap in the face. He had always been so respectful of my boundaries, promising to wait until our wedding night, painting himself as the perfect gentleman. It was all a performance. A lie to make his eventual betrayal seem all the more shocking.

I couldn't stand it. I fled, not out of the apartment, but into the guest bathroom at the far end of the hall. I locked the door, turned the shower on full blast, and sank to the cold tile floor. The roar of the water finally gave me cover to let out the silent screams that had been tearing at my throat.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and bitter. Even though I knew, even though I had lived through the ultimate betrayal, seeing it with my own eyes was a fresh hell. The man I had promised to spend my life with, the man I had loved with every fiber of my being, was in our bed with my own sister, plotting my death.

I remembered his promises, whispered in the dark. "Just a little longer, Amelia. I want our wedding night to be perfect, unforgettable."

It was unforgettable, all right. A public execution of my reputation, followed by a very real one.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, then another. The cold shock of the floor beneath me began to seep into my bones, steadying me. The tears slowed. The pain was still there, a raw, gaping hole in my chest, but something else was growing alongside it. A cold, hard resolve.

I had loved him. I had truly, foolishly loved him. I had imagined our children, a life filled with laughter and warmth to fill the void my mother's death had left. But no love, no matter how deep, could survive this. It had been trampled, spat on, and burned to ashes.

Fine. If they wanted a show, I would give them one. A grand finale they would never forget.

I stayed in the bathroom until my sobs subsided, replaced by an icy calm. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the hot spray of the shower, scrubbing my skin as if I could wash away the filth of their betrayal. By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a fluffy towel, the sounds from the bedroom had ceased.

My heart was steady now. My path was clear.

I walked back towards the master suite. The air in the living room was thick with the cloying scent of their lovemaking, and I fought back a wave of nausea. I pushed the bedroom door open. It was dark, the curtains drawn, but I could still see the rumpled sheets, the discarded clothes on the floor.

He was a monster. They both were.

I forced myself to remain calm. I was no longer the naive girl who had been so easily duped. I was a woman who had been to hell and back, armed with the one thing they could never anticipate: foreknowledge.

The bathroom door opened, and Edward stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips. His hair was damp, and his skin was flushed. He froze when he saw me, his eyes widening in momentary panic before his mask of charming confidence slammed back into place.

"Amelia, darling. You're home early," he said, his voice smooth as silk.

He glanced at the messy bed, then back at me with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about the mess. I spilled a glass of wine."

I looked at him, at the faint scratch marks on his back that I knew weren't from any wine glass, and I felt nothing but contempt. The love was gone, scoured away by the truth.

I forced a small, tired smile. "It's okay. I'm just a little worn out."

I played my part perfectly. The trusting, slightly weary fiancée.

He visibly relaxed, a small sigh escaping his lips. He thought he had me fooled. He thought I was still his pawn.

"You poor thing," he said, walking over and wrapping his arms around me. I had to fight every instinct to recoil. "You work too hard. Let me take care of you."

He pulled me close, his chin resting on top of my head. I stood perfectly still in his embrace, my mind a whirlwind of cold calculation. He had no idea he was holding a ghost. A ghost who was about to become his worst nightmare.