Chapter 9 - The Executioner’s GraceI walked slowly across the metal catwalk, my high heels clicking with rhythmic, terrifying precision.
Marcus was gasping for air, his eyes wide with mortal terror as he looked up at me. All the arrogance, all the domestic tyranny, all the cruel superiority he had lorded over me for five years had completely vanished, replaced by the pathetic whimpering of a trapped animal.
"Lena... please," he choked out, tears streaming down his face. "We were married... remember? Remember when—"
"I remember every single broken bone," I said, my voice as cold and flat as a winter glacier.
I stopped right in front of him, looking down into his tear-streaked, terrified face.
"You told me that nobody would ever risk their life for a broken waitress," I whispered, leaning in close so only he could hear. "You were right, Marcus. Nobody did."
Marcus blinked, confusion flashing through his terror. "What... what do you mean?"
"A waitress died in that apartment three months ago," I said, a dark, beautiful smile touching my lips. "What's standing here right now is something you created."
I reached out, my fingers wrapping firmly around Vincent’s wrist—the hand holding Marcus over the edge of the river.
"Let him go," I said softly.
Vincent didn't hesitate. He opened his fingers.
Aaaahhh!
Marcus’s scream cut through the night air like a knife, fading rapidly as gravity pulled him down into the dark, swirling currents of the East River below.
A heavy, definitive splash echoed against the concrete pylons.
Then, absolute silence.
Vincent pulled me against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, burying his face in my neck. I rested my head against his shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering breath of complete, final release.
"It's over," Vincent murmured against my skin.
"I know," I whispered back.
We stood there together on the balcony for a long moment, watching the ripples in the river fade back into the dark, silent water.
May you like
Then, Vincent pulled back, looking down at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Come inside," he said, taking my hand. "There's something I need to tell you."
