Chapter 3Scarlet Tears at Eighteen

Seeing his boss hesitate, the lieutenant's grip on my arms loosened slightly.

I immediately seized the opening. I twisted my body, driving my elbow brutally into the lieutenant's temple, knocking him out cold. I reached up, grabbed my own jaw, and violently snapped it back into place.

I spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto his expensive shoes and smiled at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Hand getting tired? Didn't eat breakfast?"

He ground his teeth together, raised his hand, and delivered another brutal slap. This one hit harder than all the rest combined.

Two hundred times. Not one more, not one less.

When the final blow landed, he violently yanked his hand back and turned his back to me.

I could hear the knuckles in his hand popping as he clenched his fists.

I had to grab the wall just to stay on my feet. My face was so swollen it had entirely lost feeling.

I reached up with a shaking hand and wiped the blood from my chin. I took a slow step toward his back. My voice was a rasping whisper.

"Peter. We are even."

"If she ever steps foot in front of me again, I will carve a piece of meat off her bones. You are more than welcome to pay me back double."

"Unless you plan on killing me right now, I swear to God she will end up in a body bag long before I do."

He whipped around, staring at the horrific, bloody mess he had made of my face.

His lips trembled. He opened his mouth to say something.

But in the end, he just clenched his jaw and spat out a single threat.

"Don't think for a second that I wouldn't do it."

He spun on his heel and stormed out. The heavy front doors slammed shut behind him with explosive force.

I stood completely alone in the massive foyer, staring at the scattered cigarette butts on the marble floor. Slowly, my legs gave out, and I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed. It was exactly 8:00 AM.

Eight years ago, at this exact hour, we had moved into this house together.

For the next two weeks, Chloe completely vanished from my life.

Half a month later, it was time for the annual syndicate charity gala.

My makeup artist had to apply three heavy layers of industrial concealer just to hide the lingering, dark bruises on my face.

I stood near the edge of the ballroom, wearing a custom haute couture gown, holding a crystal champagne flute.

I listened to the quiet, vicious whispers of the city's elite. They were all laughing about how Peter Monroe had turned on the Norton heiress and declared war, all over some cheap bar girl.

I heard footsteps approaching from behind.

I turned around to see Peter walking toward me, his arm wrapped tightly around Chloe's waist.

Chloe was wearing a flowing, angelic white gown. The bruises on her face had completely healed.

Her makeup was flawless. She rested a delicate hand protectively over her slightly rounded stomach, leaning her entire body weight affectionately against Peter.

She walked right up to me and politely asked the other guests standing nearby to give us a moment.

Once we were alone, she dropped her voice to a vicious, gloating whisper.

"Do you see this, Miss Norton? I am three months pregnant with Peter's child. He promised me that the second the baby is born, we are getting legally married."

"He said that I am the only woman he will ever marry in this lifetime."

"Honestly, I should be thanking you for the little stunt you pulled last time. If you hadn't done that, I never would have realized just how much weight I hold in his heart—"

My grip on the crystal flute suddenly tightened with terrifying force. The glass cracked loudly under my fingers.

Blood mixed with the expensive champagne and ran down my wrist.

I didn't even look at her. I raised my eyes and stared directly at Peter.

He was standing right next to her. He clearly heard every single word of her gloating, venomous speech, but he didn't do a damn thing to stop her.

He just stared at me with a dark, heavy gaze, as if he was waiting to see how I would react.

I smiled. I opened my hand and casually set the shattered glass onto the railing next to me.

I reached out and gently patted Chloe on the cheek.

My touch was feather-light, and my voice was equally soft.

"Congratulations."

Without another word, I turned my back on them and walked away. I didn't look back once.

Two hours later, my men dragged Chloe into a sterile, underground operating room.

She was strapped to the surgical table, fighting like a wild animal.

She screamed, crying hysterically, calling me a venomous bitch, and screaming Peter's name at the top of her lungs.

I stood next to the surgical lights, staring down at her. I turned to the underground doctor and gave a single order.

"Terminate it. Clean her out completely. No anesthesia."

The procedure was over in less than thirty minutes.

I had just turned around to leave when the heavy steel doors of the operating room were violently kicked open.

Peter charged into the room, his eyes bloodshot and completely feral. He lunged at me, his hands wrapping brutally around my throat.

He slammed me against the tiled wall with terrifying force, instantly cutting off my air.

"Aria!"

"Are you completely insane?! That was my child! How could you do this?!"

I was suffocating, my vision going black at the edges, but I actually smiled.

I forced my arm up, reached into the pocket of my blazer, and pulled out two crumpled, faded ultrasound printouts.

I slammed them directly into his face.