Page 4 of Twisted Love

He’s much broader, his presence larger, heavier, and impossible to ignore. The suit Charles mocked is immaculate, tailored to skim every inch of him, the lines crisp and unyielding. His jaw is sharper, his shoulders stronger, and those dark eyes—God, those eyes—are darker, full of bitterness and wrath.

Even so … underneath it all, I can still see traces of him.

I can still see the wonderful soul I fell in love with when I was eleven years old. The Earl I never stopped loving, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise.

My chest tightens, and tears sting my eyes. Oh, how much I’ve missed him and still do.

I hate that I still do, but I can’t stop it.

My heart throbs painfully in my chest, the ache so deep it feels like it might swallow me whole because no matter how much I try to deny it, part of me never stopped being his.

CHAPTER3

EARL

Idon’t waste another moment on Charles. The man is a joke, and his words are nothing but air. I don’t need to defend myself to him. I turn my attention to Raven.

She’s frozen in place, her veil half-shrouding her face, her eyes cast down. It’s infuriating—how much I want to tear that delicate lace away so there’s nothing between us and see her eyes, to find the truth in them.

“Raven,” I say, my voice cutting through the silence.

She flinches and lifts her eyes upwards, and I feel a jolt. Like a hiss of electricity. An emotion I can’t place. I tell myself it’s the intensity of hate in my heart. Her trembling fingers grip the bouquet like it’s her only anchor. I planned this day for so long. I will be victorious. I take a deep breath.

“Charles won’t be able to keep you,” I say, my tone steady and deliberate, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. “Not in the life you imagine he will.”

The crowd shifts. Murmurs ripple through the room like the low hum of an approaching storm. I can already imagine the delicious gossip that will be flowing rampantly in the beauty parlors, hairdressers, and over cups of tea and muffins in living rooms tomorrow. Let them all be shocked. Let them all watch.

“Excuse me?” Charles steps forward, his voice rising in contrived indignation. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Charles grabs my shoulder as if he wants to shove me back, but I’m faster, much faster. My arm snaps up, striking his wrist with enough force to send him backwards. He yelps, his hand recoiling as he cradles his wrist with his other hand. The little coward crouches slightly as if to shield himself from further harm. All the smugness drains from his face and is replaced by shock and … to my delight … fear. Good. About time he knows we are not the same. The only reason I never retaliated before was because Raven was so eager to be friends with his sister. That reason is gone now, forever.

I lean in just enough for him to feel the full weight of my words. “Touch me again,” I say, my voice calm but laced with venom. “And I promise, you’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Charles’s eyes flicker, indecision and humiliation warring in his expression, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t even dare to look at me directly.

I nod with satisfaction. His role today is already over.

Entirely ignoring him, I take another step towards Raven and shift my whole attention to her. My voice softens. “You deserve to know the truth,” I say, and I see the flicker of something in her posture—a tremor, a hesitation.

“Charles is a fraud. He’s been pretending to be rich ever since his father died and left him with huge debts. He’s bankrupt, Raven.” I swing my arm to encompass the interior of the church. “All of this is borrowed money and favors. His great hope is that you don’t find out until it’s too late.”

The crowd gasps, the scandalized shock rippling outward. Raven’s bouquet shakes in her hands. I see the white petals trembling. Her beautiful lost eyes stare into mine. Oh, Raven!

Charles, regaining his nerve and posture, scoffs. “That’s enough. You’re out of line.”

I don’t even glance his way. He’s irrelevant.

“And the house,” I say, keeping my gaze locked on hers. “The fine home you think you’ll be moving into? It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It belongs to me. I bought it from the bank months ago.”

Her breath catches audibly this time, a faint sound that sends a rush of lovely satisfaction through me.

Finally, Charles’s mask cracks. “You’re lying,” he cries desperately. “Raven, he’s lying! Don’t believe him. I love you.”

But she’s not looking at him. She’s staring at me, the shock in her eyes unmistakable. Her lips part, but no words come out.

I lean in slightly, my voice dropping to something almost intimate, like we’re the only two people in that church. “He can’t give you the life he promised, Raven … but I can.”

Her shoulders stiffen, and her breathing is shallow and uneven. The room is dead silent now, the weight of my words pressing down on everyone.

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