Isn’t it?
Or, maybe it’s only her personal vendetta against him for keeping her captive for so long that’s driving her. Maybe it has nothing to do with Benjamin.
I think I’m going to vomit.
Is Nora the reason all this happen? Has every awful thing been done because of her?
“What happened?” I choke out. “How’d your plan go so terribly wrong?”
“Timing was off.” He shrugs. “I guess we were too early, or too late. It doesn’t really matter. They’re dead now.”
He’s so nonchalant about it. I don’t understand how a person can be so hollow.
“But Benjamin died anyway.”
“I didn’t get to where I am in life today without always having a backup plan. Cutting his brakes was just a way to cover all possibilities of failure.”
I shake my head, still struggling to believe any of this is true. “But you held Nora captive when you found out she was alive. Even if the plan didn’t go as you’d laid it out, why would you turn on her like that?”
Rage flashes in his eyes, and I’m momentarily terrified that he’s going to lash out at me in some way. A few seconds pass, however, and he doesn’t strike at me, I think that I might be safe from that. At least for the time being.
“Greed,” he says. “She was collecting information on me to take me to court so she could gain full control of my company after Benjamin’s death. I found out right before the fire, so I wasn’t overly upset when I thought she’d been caught in it. When I found out she’d survived, I wasn’t about to let her get away with betraying me. I made her pay.” A cold line slashes his lips. “She was used to climbing her way to the top on her hands and knees.”
They’re monsters. Both of them. They deserve each other.
“So, you killed my father just so you could have full control of your fucking business? You ruined my life so you could make yourself richer?” I spit at him, torn between fury and despair. Things could’ve been so different for me if it weren’t for him and Nora. My life could’ve been so much more.
“It wasn’t just about the business,” he says in a low voice that reminds me so much of Saint, my head swims. “He took more than that from me. He took her.”
Holy shit. This whole thing is so much more fucked up than I could’ve imagined. This man is insane. Looking at everything he’s done it doesn’t seem a stretch to say that he’s obsessed with Nora. What was once desire, though, has become twisted and ugly. Violent.
Vengeful.
I need to get away from him. Now. He’s getting so worked up, I don’t know what he might do if he actually snaps. I need to convince him to let me go without making him angrier.
“If you don’t let me go, I can’t give her your message,” I say softly. “Please … just let me go.”
He stares at me for several long moments, and I can practically see his mind whirling as he decides what to do with me.
At last, he takes a long step backwards and away from me. I try to force my breathing to even out as he raises his finger and points it at me.
“Keeping your gold-digging slut mother captive was the best thing for everyone,” he growls, tossing my phone at me. I catch it on instinct alone. “If I could go back and do one thing over, I’d have dumped her body myself.”
I’m too stunned to respond and can only watch in silent horror as he straightens his tie and stalks out of the classroom, the soles of his shoes beating against the tile floors.
32
I leave the classroom and hurry out of the academic building. My mind is a firestorm, and I don’t really know where I’m going, only that I need to get away. Far, far away.
Unfortunately, as big as Angelview’s campus is, it has its limitations. I don’t realize where my feet are carrying me until I find myself standing outside of Saint’s dorm building. Is he still here? Has he already gone to class?
I don’t hesitate and rush inside. My shoulders sag with relief when he answers the door after only a few moments.
“Thank God.”
“Couldn’t wait for me, Ellis?” he teases as I push past him, but his smirk disappears once I’m standing in the center of the room and he gets a good look at my face.
“Shut the door,” I whisper.
Once he does, he’s in my face, his big hands on my shoulders, his icy blue eyes clashing intensely with mine. “Mallory?” he churns out.
I gulp and stare up at him. Tears form in my eyes before I can stop them, but when I try to blink them away, it only makes things worse and they break free, rolling down my cheeks.
Saint appears stunned. “What the fuck? Why are you crying?”
Swallowing, I force myself to whisper, “Your dad…”
“Come on, Mallory, out with it.” He’s struggling not to let his frustration show, but I can read it in the tight lines around his eyes.
“He was here,” I manage. “Dylan … I … The way he looked at me, Saint, I—”
“You were with my father?” He drags in a shuddering breath before it bursts from his flared nostrils. “He touched you?”
His reaction is oddly comforting. It feels like a justification of my fear, and it’s somewhat soothing having someone angered on my behalf.
I open my mouth and the whole sordid encounter comes tumbling out. I don’t spare a single detail, even telling him how his dad took my phone. With each word I say, his fury spikes a little more. His face is dark red, and there’s a vein throbbing in his forehead. He seems to be taking care not to squeeze my shoulders too hard, though he doesn’t let me go the entire time I tell him about my confrontation with Jameson.
When I finish, he doesn’t say anything for several beats. He just closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and I wonder if he’s trying to rein his temper in.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone tight and rumbling.
My heart rumbles, but I nod and shrug at the same time. “Physically, yeah, but mentally?” A breath whooshes past my lips. “It’s worse than I thought. They were fucking accomplices, Saint. They did this together.”
“I’ll fucking kill him,” he promises, guiding me to his bed. “He’s done, Ellis, I swear.”
When he draws away from me, panic seizes my chest. “Where are you going?”
“Where are you going?” I ask, panic seizing me as he moves for his door.
“Why does it matter?”
“Saint, stop—”
He offers me a mirthless, close-lipped smile as he throws open the door. “Wait here, little masochist. I mean that.”
A moment later, my chest jolts when the door rattles shut behind him.
I sit and stare at the closed door for several minutes before I’m able to shake myself from the stupor he left me in. As soon as I do, however, everything that Mr. Angelle told me comes flooding back in and nearly overwhelms me. I can’t believe Nora was behind her own fiancé’s death. Sure, Mr. Angelle was the one who actually had him killed, but Nora wanted it. She was supposed to marry Benjamin, and instead she plotted his death with who he thought was his oldest friend.