Page 21 of Downfall

She was mine. She should have been mine. And yet here she is, with her husband, happy, content, blissfully unaware that any other man exists except for him.

They get into the car, chauffeur driven of course, and then they disappear off back to their soulless home.

I shouldn’t follow. I know I shouldn’t.

And yet I do.

By the time I’ve hacked into their security system and concealed myself in my usual safe space they’re inside. Rose has kicked off her heels and Paris looks like he’s pleading for something.

I frown watching them. His face is contorted and I realise he’s not pleading at all. Is that rage? Are they fighting? Is that what this is? A lovers tiff? The perfect couple aren’t so perfect after all. Perhaps I’m the sick one here to get a perverse sense of pleasure from that thought.

That her perfect little world isn’t so fucking perfect.

She turns. Putting what looks like a glass of water down and his hands grab her. I snarl despite myself. He’s pulling her to him and it’s more than apparent what he wants, what’s about to happen.Again. I clench my fists.

Only she pushes back, right at the moment when I go to leave and that makes me pause.

I see her hands push against his chest. His face contorts more, his hands grab at the black slip of her dress and she pushes harder.

Apparently all is not as perfect in paradise as they like to present. I smirk despite myself. She made her bed, I shouldn’t feel sorry for her. She chose this life. I offered her an escape. I offered her a chance to be with me and she turned her back. No doubt she decided that power was worth more to her than anything I could offer.

She’s a Capulet after all. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I should have seen it coming.

She chose him.

I let out a low breath. Something in my stomach twists as I watch the scene play out and I fight the urge to make myself known but what would be the point? He’s her husband. She married him.

And then I see his fist. It happens almost in slow motion, the way his hand curls, the way he delivers the perfect side swipe and his knuckles collide with her cheek.

She jolts. For a moment it’s like she doesn’t register it.

But then he hits again. Hefuckinghits her again.

She falls this time, as though the force of the blow has knocked the life out of her. I can see her legs moving so I know she’s not unconscious but he doesn’t seem in the least bit concerned. Instead he’s pulling her round, yanking her hair with one hand and her dress off with the other.

My heart thumps in my chest as it dawns on me what this is. I take a step forward, out from obscurity, only that immediately alerts one of the guards to my presence. A flash light spins round to where I am. Illuminating me.

And before I know it I’m racing from the scene. Forcing myself to move. I can’t do anything anyway. I can’t stop it. If I do, everything I’ve worked for will be ruined.

I have to leave. I have no choice.

Roman

Iget back to my house. Sneak in through the old servants entrance but Ben already knows where I’ve been. I wasn’t stupid enough to hide that from him, though he took his time to tell me how reckless it was to be anywhere near her.

I guess he’s right.

Because this changes everything.

I kick off my muddy trainers, pull off the hooded jacket that helped hide my face and ditch it. My t-shirt sticks to the sweat along my back. I need a shower.

But more than that I need a drink.

I storm up into the drawing room. In years past my father would be in here, with his cronies. They’d be planning. They’d be conspiring. It feels like all the whispers still hang in the air and god only knows what these four walls have been privy to.

I pour a drink. Down it. Then pour another.

He hit her.

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