Back in the bathroom, the silence clung to Annalise like a second skin. The soft hum of the overhead light and the distant murmur of the dining room faded behind the thick walls, replaced by the staccato thump of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She leaned against the door, her breathing erratic, chest rising and falling like she had run miles. Her fingers trembled as they grazed the now-dried wine stain clinging to her dress. It felt like a cruel reminder—a symbol of the moment her life had been irrevocably altered.
To be married to a vampire as dangerous as Caden for twelve months? It was like digging her own grave and lying in it willingly. Her eyes stung at the weight of her hopeless situation, but she didn't let the tears fall. Not yet. Not for them. Not for him.
The chill of the marble floor crept through her heels and up her spine, but she didn't move. Instead, she drew in a shaky breath and finally peeled herself away from the door, gathering the shreds of her dignity. She twisted the handle and stepped out, only to halt in her tracks.
Her family stood there.
The Valtore family was gone.
Her father's smug expression greeted her like a slap to the face. Aston stood with his hands folded neatly behind his back, his eyes glinting with a satisfaction that made her stomach turn.
"It seems you did a good job," he said, voice laced with triumphant amusement.
Annalise didn't answer. She didn't look at him. She simply walked forward, her eyes fixed on her purse resting atop a side table. But just as her fingers closed around it, a sharp sound cracked through the hallway—a slap.
Pain exploded across her left cheek.
Her face jerked to the side, and she froze for a breathless second before slowly turning her head. Fury ignited in her veins as her gaze locked with Wendy's. The younger girl's palm still hung in the air, trembling with the aftermath of violence.
Wendy's lips curved into a smile, saccharine and venomous. "Are you happy now?" she sneered.
Aston chuckled lowly, an almost approving gleam in his eye. "She was angry, you know. Thought I didn't love her enough to marry her to Caden," he said, amusement dancing in his voice. "I had to let her vent somehow."
Annalise clenched her jaw, her teeth grinding against the wave of fury threatening to rip through her. She wanted to scream. To slap Wendy back. To tell Aston to go rot. But she didn't. Her hands were tied. They still had her mother.
So she glared, her chest heaving with silent rage, and turned away. Lunatics. They were all lunatics.
Her cheek burned from the slap as she stepped outside, the night air wrapping around her like a frigid shroud. The trio finally joined her, and they left in the same sleek black car they'd arrived in. The ride back to Aston's mansion was silent. No one spoke, no one dared to. The only sound was the soft thrum of the tires against the road and the erratic rhythm of her heart.
When they reached the house, Annalise didn't wait. She darted out of the car, climbed the stairs two at a time, and slammed her bedroom door behind her. She locked it. Twice. Then slid down to the floor, chest tightening with every breath.
She chuckled.
A sharp, broken sound that echoed in the dark room.
"Twelve months," she whispered bitterly. "Twelve months married to a vampire."
She staggered to her feet, the weight of the night pressing on her like a boulder. She didn't even bother to change out of the stiff, wine-stained gown. She collapsed onto her bed, sinking into the mattress as exhaustion dragged her under.
Sleep took her without mercy.
She didn't know how long had passed when the sound came—the click of her door opening.
Her eyes snapped open.
She had locked it.
Her blood ran cold as she sat up, muscles stiff from her position. Aston stepped inside with that unnerving, wolfish smile plastered across his face.
"What the hell?" she muttered, rubbing at her eyes. "Isn't it too early?"
She glanced at the clock.
4:00 a.m.
Too early for anything sane.
Aston stepped closer, his hands behind his back. "What exactly happened when you went into the bathroom with him?"
Annalise rolled her eyes and stood, her back rigid. "Nothing that would help you get your lost heart back," she snapped.
His smile faded. "Tread carefully, girl. Don't forget who has your mother."
The reminder pierced her like a blade.
She took a step back.
"Don't you dare touch her," she growled. "I'm doing every fucking little thing you want me to do. But leave her out of this."
Aston laughed—a cold, unfeeling sound. "You think this is about you? This is about legacy. Power. Immortality."
He pulled something from his coat pocket.
A small vial of deep crimson liquid. And a knife. Ornate. Black-handled. Wickedly sharp.
Her eyes widened in horror.
"What is that?"
"A potion," Aston said with cruel delight. "You'll slip this into his food. Slowly. Daily. It won't kill him right away—it weakens him. Makes him easier to finish off."
He held up the knife.
"And this," he continued, voice darkening, "is the only blade that can pierce a vampire's heart. When the time comes, you will use it. Then place the heart in the satchel I'll give you."
Annalise recoiled like the blade had scorched her.
"I can't—I won't kill him."
Aston slammed his fist against the wall, the sound making her flinch.
"You will! Because if you don't, your mother's will die slowly from the machines she's in . She'll feel every moment of it as she slips away."
Her legs gave out.
She sat on the edge of her bed, numb, staring at the items he laid beside her.
"You're a monster," she whispered.
He crouched low, so his face was level with hers.
"No," he murmured. "I'm a visionary who gave birth to a very beautiful daughter." Patting her head he smiled.
Then he left.
The door shut behind him with a final click.
Annalise stared at the knife. At the potion. At the future she never chose.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and whispered a single word to the shadows.
"Help."