Page 233 of Mine Again
The last thing I want is to endure his presence any longer than I have to. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried something soon. What better way to hurt Luca than to claim me for himself? Not that I’d ever let it happen.
I stare at the folder in the center of the table. Has it been there the whole time?
Hale’s playing games, that much is obvious. Whatever’s inside, he wants it to knock me off balance.
I should leave it alone, but curiosity digs in like a hook.
My hand moves before I can stop it, dragging the dossier closer. Somewhere, Hale is probably watching, rubbing his hands together, ready for the show.
My heart slams against my ribs when I see the name stamped across the cover. For a moment I go still, then adrenaline surges, flooding me so fast my hands tremble.
A lump rises in my throat. I grip the edges until my knuckles ache, torn between choices.
If I open it, I give Hale exactly what he wants. If I don’t, I’ll never know what lie he’s twisting into truth, leaving me unprepared for our next encounter.
My pulse pounds in my ears, my fingers refusing to let go.
At last, I lift the cover.
And immediately wish I hadn’t.
The room tilts, my vision blurring as my world begins to crack.
Chapter Eighty-Nine
Isabella
This cannot be real. It has to be another one of Hale’s lies, stitched together with his money and malice.
The title screams at me from the top of the page.
Antonio Accardi, Homicide Investigation.
I stare at the first picture in the file… my stomach lurches violently.
It’s my father.
Lifeless.
A cheekbone split open. One eye swollen shut. His mouth hangs slack, dried red crusting at the corners.
I gag, a dry, wrenching sound tearing out of me.
His body…
It’s carved with shallow cuts, hundreds of them. Thin lines like cruel paper slashes, some so small they look deliberate, others deep and jagged. None fatal on their own. But together, they turned him into something unrecognizable, a bloodied canvas of torment.
I stumble back to the sofa, folder still in hand.
The room tilts, my vision disappearing for a second as my templesbuzz.
I don’t want to see anymore. I should slam the folder shut, throw it across the room, anything to make it vanish.
The paper is cool beneath my fingertips, an almost absurd detail when the rest of me feels numb, like my body has shut itself off to survive.
The hidden cameras in this room will be recording every flicker of horror across my face. Hale will be watching, savoring it, delighting in the exact moment his poison sinks in.
My throat tightens. My pulse hammers. Still, I turn the page.
