Chapter 28
“These past three years must have been good to you, huh, Sloan?” Carol’s voice dripped with bitterness. “But do you know what I’ve been through? Every single night, Wyatt would bring different men to humiliate me. He’d film it make me watch it over and over again.
He’d call me a whore and ask if I liked it. All because of you!”
Her expression twisted with rage. “Why do you get to live a perfect life while I’m left to rot? But don’t worry – it’s all going to change now. It’s your turn to suffer!”
Two huge men stepped out from the shadows. Their hard stares and rough appearance screamed trouble – dangerous, like men who’d done this kind of thing before.
They wasted no time. One grabbed Sloan’s arm while the other pinned her to the ground.
“You’d better behave,” Carol sneered, holding up her phone. “Or I can’t promise that urn will stay intact. Once this video hits the internet, I’d love to see you keep up that sweet,
innocent act.”
Carol circled them with her phone, filming every second. Her eyes gleamed with madness, her expression unhinged.
Carol’s eyes widened. “Wyatt? What are you doing here?”
–
But a second later, her shock melted into a twisted smile the smile of someone who had lost all reason.
“Oh, this is perfect,” she sneered. “Since you’re here, you’ll get to watch those filthy bastards ruin the woman you love so much. I can’t wait to see you drown in regret for not choosing me.”
Wyatt’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening.
“The only thing I regret…” his voice was low, venomous, “…is not killing you when I had the chance.”
He lunged forward, grabbing Carol by the throat.
Her face reddened as her breath hitched, but even as she choked, she managed to let out a strained, mocking laugh. “Go ahead. Kill me!” she rasped, her smile widening into something almost manic. “I’ve lost my will to live anyway.”
—
She laughed – wild and unhinged her eyes glinting with a dangerous light as Wyatt’s grip tightened.
Wyatt’s grip tightened – then he released her and grabbed a nearby scythe. He swung it hard at the two men holding Sloan.
Blood splattered across the floor as the room erupted into chaos.
Sloan curled into herself, clutching her torn jacket. Tristan rushed to her side, one hand on the urn, the other lifting her to her feet.
“I’ve got your mom’s ashes. We need to get out of here. Now.” His voice was sharp with
urgency.
Her breath hitched. “What about him?” Her eyes darted toward the wreckage behind them.
