Page 34 of Thicker Than Blood

When he didn't speak, a whispered plea left me.

“Please.”

“It’s over Amari,” he said, his voice emotionless yet his words cut through me like a blade.

“Why?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He turned then, his face unreadable, his dark eyes devoid of the fire that had once burned for me.

“My revenge is complete. You are free to leave. Keith will be waiting downstairs to take you home in fifteen minutes.”

Each word hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I stared at him, my mind reeling, my heart shattering as reality sank in. Everything he had done in the last week was for this. My legs buckled beneath me and I fell to the floor. I caught myself from slipping into the sorry pose.

“No, you can't. You can't just—just throw me away like this. Not after—not after—” I said trying to speak but becoming overwrought as memory after memory flooded through me. It was like a movie reel of our time together.

“It’s done.Weare done,” he interrupted, his voice firm and final. “There is nothing more to say.”

I wanted to lash out at him, scream at him, to demand answers, but the distant, empty look in his eyes stopped me. It stopped me because I wanted to keep the last vestige of pride left within me—even though my heart had shattered into a million pieces. He was already closed off and had moved on.

I rose to my feet, shaking as I did, my eyes returning to the collar, and for a split second, considered taking it as a sick memento of what I was leaving behind. I couldn't bring myself to touch it. Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, holding my head high, ignoring the hot fat tears coursing down my cheeks. I no longer had a mask to hide away in.

As I stepped into the hallway, I paused, glancing back one last time. Stefanos stood by the window, his back to me once more like I had already faded from his world. At that moment, I realised the cruelest truth of all.

Thiswas his final act of revenge and now he was done with me.

I truly wasnothingto him.

Chapter 25

Stefanos

Amari didn't see my clenched jaw as I fought to keep a neutral expression. She didn't see the way my hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms as I resisted turning around to stop her. She didn't see the guilt that burned a hole hotter and more painful than any revenge I’d ever sought.

I treated her horribly, reduced her to something less than human and now the weight of my actions crushed my very soul. I couldn't let her see me like this, drowning in regret, not for her sake. She had to believe my words and cut me out of her life like a malignant tumour.

So I remained silent and cold, letting her walk away, hoping she would hate me enough never to look back. I touched the window as I saw the red taillights vanish past the gates. It was done, yet there was little relief in freeing my pet. My shoulders sagged as the tension left me, turning around to stare at my empty bedroom, I noticed the envelopes for her freedom lying at the foot of the bed.

My eyes moved to the spot on the floor where her cage had been before I walked to the side of my bed to lift her collar, stroking my fingers over the metal studs, before wrapping it around my hand. I clenched my hand around the black leather collar, enjoying the pain of the metal spikes cutting into my hand as I recalled my visit to my mother.

“Darling, I wanted to ask you about your father's estate. I asked Chris but he refused to tell me due to some silly legality,” she said with a tight smile.

I put my cutlery down and took a sip of my wine, preparing how to lie and hide the Jensons’ from her. She didn't need to know about my father’s betrayal. Chris Hassell was a stickler for rules and wouldn't divulge details about the part of the estate planning sectioned out for my father’s other family.

“What did you need to know, mum?” I asked, keeping my voice casual and light.

“Chris indicated that you know about your father’s—indiscretion,” she said hesitantly. “What did he leave them? I want to know.”

My jaw dropped open as I gaped at my mother’s calm exterior.

“You knew?” I asked, aghast at how blasé she was about my father cheating on her—on us.

She waved her glass in the air.

“Your father came to me asking me for a divorce. I assured him that it would not end well for him if he ever divorced me. Our marriage merged two powerful families, and I would never let him besmirch my family for that—that woman,” she said with disdain, her face showing every bit of disgust she felt.

“When did he ask for a divorce?” I asked calmly, ignoring the brewing storm within me.

“What does it matter now? Your father is gone,” she said glancing down at the table but not before I saw the sorrow in her eyes.

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