Page 62 of Buried in Blood

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And next week?

It begins.

The new place needed a new name. I write largely over the drawings in a manic frenzy.

The Midas Mansion

The Golden Cave

The Whispering Hollows

The Midas Gallery

The Silent Gallery

Then I think of the perfect name…

The Golden Hollows:

Welcome to the Golden Hollows

Where obedience is golden—and sin is cleansed.

There. It’s done. And it’s fucking perfect.

* * *

Harmony’s curled up on the bed, pretending to sleep.

I can tell by the way her breaths hitch when the door creaks open. The way her fingers twitch against the hem of that little silk nightgown I gave her—barely a whisper of fabric, just enough to remind her she’s mine.

Always mine.

I shut the door softly behind me. Lock it.

The sound makes her flinch.

Good.

I peel off my jacket, slow and deliberate, tossing it over the armchair like I don’t have her heart clenched in my fist. Like I didn’t just finish using her replacement to destroy someone else.

Brooke was so eager to please me tonight.

And Harmony?

She’ll break without needing to be asked.

“You’re awake,” I murmur, watching her body stiffen.

“No,” she whispers.

Liar.

I cross the room, crouching beside her, brushing her hair back to reveal the bruises I left yesterday. Faint purple fingerprints. A signature.

“You know what I did tonight?”

She doesn’t answer.

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