The air changes the moment I reach the top landing. It always does. This house… it hums around me.
Like itknows. Like itremembersI was meant to be here all along.
They’re out, the perfect little couple. Candlelit dinner, hands all over each other. It guts me to picture it, but I insisted they go. Encouraged it, even while smiling through my teeth.
Because sometimes the best way to destroy something is to let it flourish first.
Build it up nice and high so it won’t see the fall coming.
I slip into their bedroom, my pulse already quickening. The wardrobe creaks open beneath my hand. Her clothes hang like they’re taunting me. I reach for a short little ruby-red number and hold it to my body, turning to the mirror with a tilt of my chin.
Just as I thought. It suits me far better. Can she even squeeze into this anymore?
She’s soft and fluffy after childbirth.
If he saw me in this dress, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off. He wouldn’t even glance in her direction. He’d tear this dress off me with his teeth, bend me over the bed and fuck me the way he’s always wanted to.
Heat flares across my skin at the thought. I breathe deep, trying to will it away, but it only makes it worse. Makes it more vivid.
All I’d need is one proper chance. One moment alone.
And forherto be dealt with.
I stuff the dress back in and reach for one of his ties. Navy blue and silk. It still smells like him, notes of sandalwood and cedar stitched into the threads.
I drag the fabric beneath my nose and inhale, a tremble running down my spine. I could press it between my thighs right now and come undone with nothing more than my imagination.
I fold the tie neatly and slip it into my back pocket.
Just a keepsake, for now.
I drift through their bedroom, humming to myself as I take in the bits and pieces of their life. Trinkets and baubles she no doubt thinks make her look sophisticated—delicate earrings, a jumble of bracelets, the collection in her jewelry box that she probably imagines makes her feel elegant.
And thenhisthings.
His watches, all lined up so precisely. I trace my finger over one of the bands, imagining how it might feel if he pressed that very wrist against the small of my back. The idea sends a ripple right through me.
I open the drawer on her side of the bed and smile. The journal rests exactly where I knew it would. I flick through it, snorting at the scribbled story ideas and plot outlines. It’s doubtful if she’s got it in her to finish anything again.
It’s not the first time I’ve been in this room. And it won’t be the last. They’ve simply never been clever enough to notice.
Back in the beginning—one of my first days on the job—I fiddled with the fuse box and cut the power. Knocked the whole house out for hours. They thought it was a standard outage or a faulty breaker. They woke up late for work and school and spent the next week sniping at each other.
It was a gamble that paid off, causing instant tensions between them for days to come. Declan is already stressed fromthe high-pressure role he’s taken on at Halberd and so is Amerie now that she’s under deadline with her agent.
All I ever have to do is plant the seed and nudge them here and there. Make a suggestive comment about how often Declan misses dinner or get Willow to whinge about the birthday party at the park until Amerie gives in.
Slip a stranger a few quid to pop by the party and lure the girl away for five minutes. Just long enough for panic to set in and to turn them against each other.
And, of course, swap out her cupcake for one with three times the amount of sugar. It sent her into a proper spin.
Some would say it’s cruel what I’m doing, but I would argue that it’s necessary to claim what’s mine.
I move into the ensuite and run my hands along the marble vanity, the same place I helped do her makeup earlier. Velvet Sin catches my attention in its frosted bottle.
Amerie had said Declan loves it. That it activates the feral part of the male brain.
I spray it on my wrists and inhale, the scent curling around me, so heady and warm. If he smelled this on me, he couldn’t control himself.
