Aiden.
The name sliced through me like a razor-sharp knife. I have planned out the most gruesome way I would kill that asshole and the guts he had to talk to Ava, knowing she is my woman.
I know what Ava is thinking—that I don't love her and that I am an asshole monster. She isn't totally wrong, though.
Obviously, she didn't read the letter I dropped for her. I don't know if that's good for us or not.
No physical beating could hurt more than thinking of her. How her face looked before she walked away would haunt me for the rest of my days—the disappointment and hatred I was grooming in her.
And thanks to my fucking cursed memory, I remembered every detail of every second of the night we spent together. Her happy face and my satisfied self I felt like I was marking my mate and setting a boundary between us and the other men in the world.
The moment I handed the letter to her, I saw the faint light of hope that she had died. She hesitated, but ended up signing it.
My gut wrenched.
I may not have killed her physically, but I had killed her spirit and her innocence. The part of her that believed the best in people and saw beauty in the ugliest of hearts has been buried by both her best friend and me.
I wish I'd been able to tell her to stay, except I hadn't.
She would have gotten hurt and almost killed because of me. I'd failed to protect her, just like I'd failed to protect my own sister and my parents. Perhaps it was my curse to watch everyone I loved suffer.
I was a genius; thanks to myself, I had everything I wanted except revenge yet. It was taking longer than I expected.
All my life, I have lived for two things: one for my revenge, and two for Ava. I feel she saw the person who murdered my parents, my sister, and her mother.
I have stalked her for years until it grew into a feeling I couldn't describe—a feeling I am not allowed to have. Even now, I still can't let her go, but I was quite aware that Ava would never be safe as long as she was with me, so I let her go.
She was mine… but I let her go.
I was getting better except for the painful sensation I feel sometimes in my hands. I took a soft breath and continued my work, trying to get Ava off my head.
But fuck! I still don't know if she is alright. here would she have gone? Did she go back to Italy this morning because I can't see her around the house?
Suddenly my door was shot open, and I looked up,my brows furrowed in anger, to find out who had the guts to enter my study without knocking.
"Grandmother?" I was more surprised at her youthful energy than I was at her mean expression. Exactly that face that I met years ago—the face that took me in and raised me as her own grandchild after her own children were murdered.
"You don't fucking call me that when you have decided to do as you wish Gabriel!' Where is your wife?" she stamped her hands on the desk, reminding me of the bad-tempered bitch she had always been.
She sure knows I have been stalking Ava for a long time. She promised to help me get the revenge I wanted, but I feel she has helped me enough. And that was surely the reason she got me married to Ava Williams. To use her and get what she wanted.
"I let her go." I couldn't get myself to look at her, just as I couldn't get myself to deceive Ava.
"Did you just listen to yourself? Now, go and bring her back because you ain't the one who married her. I did, and if I don't accept your divorce, you both are going to be stuck with each other forever."
"I don't take orders, Mrs.!" I rashed out and stood up, staring into her eyes, which were still as sharp as whatever, considering her old age.
"Mrs.... I guess it's time to tame you!" She raised her hands to give me the slap that I deserved, but I stopped her and squeezed her hands until her mouth started to quiver.
She was once a dreadful mafia goddess. The type that would hunt like a ghost, never to be seen but always causing havoc and chaos.
"I am sorry, grandmother, but this won't do. I don't mind who it is, but anyone who tries to harm Ava Williams already has a death wish. Anyone. I mean anyone."
I let go of her hand, and she stared at me with a heavy smirk.
I left her there and went outside to get a fresh breath, only to come back to see my table scattered and the book littered on the floor.
I clenched my fist in anger, knowing that I couldn't do what I really wanted for her. She sure knows that and uses her free coupons every freaking time to get on my nerves.
"I will do it," Ethan said, starting to pick up the papers on the floor.
"You are not allowed in here, Ethan," I said, and kicked the next file he wanted to pick away from his reach before he was able to look at me.
"I know; my grandmother sent me. I saw her furious earlier. Hey Gabriel, you shouldn't be hard on her; you know she's already too old for all these troubles."
"I said you were not allowed to be here! Didn't you hear that? Or have my sickness made you forget that I don't take orders, nor do I repeat myself?" I know I was taking my anger out on Ethan, but he pretty much deserved it. I'd say that he got what he wanted.
He stood up, scattered the files that he had arranged in his hands back on the floor, and then made his way to the door.
He stopped and stared back at me. " I hope you are not regretting sending Ava away. It's way more dangerous out there!"
"I don't fucking do regrets either!" I lied, my voice thick and echoing. My heart was hurting me at the same time.
I know I lied because every second, I wish I could hear her nagging and see her stubborn face starting at me. I wish I could still watch out for her and cover her up when she seems to be cold. I wish I could watch how good she eats and how pretty she looks.
But I let her go.
I was still grooming in my misery when I felt a throbbing and piercing pain in my hand, as if someone were knifing it. It became worse and seemed to be from a burn. My hands were burning, but I couldn't see a flame. It was terribly painful, and I felt like dipping my left arm in a pool of zero-degree water.
I let out a painful scream as I managed to shoot the door and lock it from the inside. It was going to last for seconds or even more. It wasn't the first time or second, but it was always occasionally.
The same pain put me in a vegetative state for more than a month. I couldn't fight, and I couldn't defend myself when Aiden attacked because I suddenly felt that sharp pain and burn and unconsciously dropped my gun.
There is no way I would be able to protect Ava Williams from a dreadful illness that decided to surface two years ago.