“You mean he's killed for Terrance before.”
“More than once,” Ratchet confirms, selecting something else from the tray. “He was particularly chatty about a business partner of your ex's who threatened to expose some financial irregularities. Guy went fishing and never came home.”
My legs feel suddenly unsteady. I grab the edge of the workbench to keep myself upright.
“How many?” I force myself to ask.
V glances at Thor again, hesitation clear on his face.
“Tell her. She deserves to know what kind of monster she was married to.
“Seven that he's admitted to,” V says quietly. “But I'm guessing there are more.”
Seven people. Seven lives ended because Terrance decided they were inconvenient. The room tilts slightly, and Thor's hand is suddenly at my elbow, steadying me.
“Including a woman,” Ratchet adds. “His secretary.”
“Alice Donovan,” I answer, the name bubbling up from some forgotten corner of my memory. “She quit. That’s what he told me. I always thought they were having an affair, and when things ended, she quit. You’re saying that he had this man kill her?”
Holloway's laugh turns into a wet, hacking cough. “Clever girl. She wasn't just fucking him—she was keeping records. Insurance, she called it.”
The room spins around me as realization crashes down. How many signs did I ignore? The late-night phone calls he'd take in his office. The business trips that extended without explanation. The way certain names would disappear from his contact list, never to be mentioned again.
I was so blind. So willfully, stupidly blind.
All those years, while I was decorating our house and hosting his business dinners, my husband was having people killed. And I never suspected a thing. Not once. I'd convinced myself his cruelty was reserved only for me, contained within the walls of our perfect home like a terrible secret only I had to bear.
“Why?” The question tears from my throat before I can stop it. “Why keep me alive? If he could just...dispose of people so easily, why not just kill me when I tried to leave?”
Thor's hand tightens on my arm, but I barely feel it.
Holloway's bloodshot eye gleams with something like pity. “Because you're his favorite toy. The one he's not done playing with yet.”
The words hit me like a slap.Toy. That's all I ever was to him. Something to possess, to break, to place on a shelf until he was ready to play with me again.
“He said you were special,” Holloway continues, blood bubbling between his lips as he speaks. “Said breaking you was the most fun he'd ever had. Wanted to do it again, but slower this time.”
The room seems to contract around me, air suddenly too thick to breathe. My vision narrows to a pinpoint, focused entirely on Holloway's mangled face. I take a step forward, breaking free from Thor's steadying grip.
“What else did he tell you about me?”
Holloway's eye widens slightly, perhaps surprised by my approach. “That you were stubborn. That you'd need to be...conditioned again when I brought you back.”
“Conditioned,” I repeat, the word bitter on my tongue. “Like a dog.”
“Charlotte,” Thor warns from behind me, but I ignore him.
I move closer, until I'm standing directly in front of Holloway's broken body. The stench of blood and sweat and fear is overwhelming, but I don't flinch.
“Did he tell you how he planned to condition me?”
Holloway's split lips twist into what might be a smile. “Every single fucking detail. When he finds out you're whoring yourself out…it will be so much worse. I hope his dick was worth it.”
Thor roars behind me, a primal sound that vibrates through the concrete walls. In a blur of movement, he shoves me aside with surprising gentleness before lunging at Holloway.
“You think this is funny?” Thor's massive fist connects with Holloway's already shattered jaw. The crack echoes through the basement. “You think threatening her is smart right now?”
V and Ratchet move at once, trying to pull Thor back, but he's beyond reason. His face has transformed into something terrifying—all raw fury and bared teeth.
