A wave of curiosity went through me, and I shook my head.
“Which bedroom?” I asked bluntly. I wasn’t going home without taking care of what I came for. The maid wrung her hands, obviously uncomfortable. I took pity on her. I wasn’t there to cause trouble and had expected to visit Merissa with no issues. That’s what wives did, didn’t they? But from what I heard about Lanton Vani, Merissa wasn’t a true wife. She was a little toy.
“I promise, I’m here to help and I will be in and out,” I whispered.
“I have to call Mr. Vani and tell him you’re here,” she apologized.
“I understand.” I let her scurry by me, her shoes squeaking again as she rounded the corner. Merissa’s fruitless journey to Romeo’s house had consequences, it seemed, or perhaps Lanton was always this possessive. It didn’t take me long to find Merissa. Although it wasn’t where I expected. The main bedroom was empty, the crisp brown sheets neat. I found Merissa in a smaller bedroom down the hall. Or rather, I found a lump tucked under covers. When I wandered around the bed, she burrowed deeper.
“I asked not to be disturbed,” her voice was muffled.
“Hello, Merissa,” I sank down next to her. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and her head whipped out of the covers. Her blonde hair, which had been so sleek at the dinner party, was tangled in knots.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. I’d expected her to sound angry, but instead, she was terrified. It poured out ofher like a broken dam. The whites of her eyes appeared stark in the low light of the bedroom. I didn’t answer her question, leaning closer so I could absorb. Her cheeks were sunken, and eyes swollen and red. Her skin had a sallowness that came from sun deprivation. But it wasn’t illness that made her this way. She shifted on the bed and winced, tugging the covers up to her neck.
“I’m here to solve your problem,” I said, patting the basket beside me. Even broken, there was still a spark in her as she rolled her eyes and sunk deeper into the bed.
“You silly little girl, you have no idea what I need. And even if you did, why would you help me?” She still had some fight left in her. Unfortunate that she wasted it on me, a predator who could tear her to pieces. I didn’t reply, cocking my head at her outburst. My nose twitched at the stink of stale sweat in the room. When I’d seen her with Romeo, I’d thought her impenetrable. Glamor and sensuality distracted the eye from looking closer. I’d missed the cracks. My silence made her face twist, and she lashed out further.
“If your husband hadn’t turned me down, I would have taken him to my bed. If you’re thinking about coming to taunt me, don’t worry. My husband made me pay dearly for the visit.” She pressed her lips together, face twisted in stiff agony. This was what Lanton did with his girls, although Merissa was an unfortunate aberration. He preferred to take them apart, piece by piece. Until their blonde hair, always blonde hair, ran strawberry. But he had perfected his games with Merissa, and who would waylay him? Made Men could treat their wives however they wanted, so long as it was behind closed doors. A slow, wintry smile spread over my face, and she shrank in the bed. I couldn’t fault her for assuming I was nothing more than a sweet little housewife. It was exactly what I wanted people to think. But I let the mask drop, let her see what she was dealing with.
I knew death. Seen it bubble out of the mouths of men double my size. I’d snipped its blossoms with a tender touch. Smelled its bittersweet tang. The way it clung to the back of my throat. I’d seen it every day reflected in the mirror. Eyes like pits, unfeeling and ruthless. I knew she recognized it the moment she looked deep into my stare. Quiet horror froze Merissa, recognizing the monster inside of me.
“I’m here to solve your problem,” I repeated, opening the basket. “But first, you’ll tell me what was between you and my husband. Every detail. Do you understand?”
Her lip quivered, but to her credit, she didn’t hesitate. She told me in halting whispers what had transpired between my husband and her. What she unveiled…confused me. I had steeled myself to hear a forbidden love story. Of passion and need hidden and nurtured in the dark. But what she admitted painted a picture of desperation, of two people who used each other.
“I knew he wanted information from me. But I thought he cared, at least a little, until I came to your house and saw how he looked at you.” Merissa laughed hollowly. I snorted and rolled my eyes.
“You saw nothing.”
Merissa appraised me, wincing as she shifted herself to sitting.
“I know what I saw,” she insisted. But I waved a hand at her, not willing to entertain her musings, pulling out a vial instead. I held it carefully between my thumb and my finger, tilting the clear liquid. Merissa’s tentative hope banked as she took in the small container.
“If you knew he would do this to you, why take the risk?” I waved a hand, alluding to the injuries she obviously hid underneath the covers. Her nostrils flared, and she shook her head.
“It would happen either way, and I’ve got nothing else to lose. He’ll probably lose his temper about you visiting.”
Romeo had touched me without my permission, but never in anger. I always knew he wouldn’t be able to take it far enough that I couldn’t deal with him. I looked at the silver bracelet on my wrist, a present from my father. It was my backup plan. Merissa had no skills to protect herself and the rotten luck to be chained to a sadist.
“Does your husband drink?” I asked, tilting my head. She gave me a tentative nod.
“Perfect,” I purred, “When you’ve healed, plan a dinner. Put on your best dress, be your most enticing. Pour this in his glass and ensure he finishes it. There’s no taste. But before the dinner ends, you’ll have your wish.”
And Romeo would have fulfilled his promise to his best friend. All while maintaining plausible denial.
Merissa took the vial with shaking fingers, her eyes so wide they nearly took up her face.
“H-how did you? H-how could you?” she whispered, and I could tell she didn’t believe me.
“Have you heard of The Gardener?” I asked, easing back and stretching. Merissa looked slowly from the vial to my face. Her forehead screwed up.
“Everyone has heard whispers, but he’s a myth.” She shook her head before she looked at the vial. Whatever she was going to say next died, replaced by an audible gulp.
“She’sa myth. A ghost. A silly, little girl.” I hiked up an eyebrow. “Understand that I’m not doing this for you. Your husband deserves to die. I’m sure you’ll agree with me. If I find out you breathed a word about this to anyone, I mean anyone, you will end up the same. And not one person will question why you went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Do we understand each other?”
A lone tear tracked down Merissa’s cheek, and she gave me an infinitesimal whisper of understanding. I collected the basket, wanting to leave and get my sham of a wedding night over. But as I reached the door, something occurred to me.
