As My Daughter Burned, He Lit Fireworks for Her

days

in Brooklyn

no floor-to-ceiling windows, just a cramped living room tha

a small, pink sweater. It still smelled faintly of the hospital, of C

ve buzzing shatt

apped up. She st

longer this time, foll

Open th

d by the wood, but the fu

ering against her ribs. She backed away from

" Derick yelled. "Open i

athing. She wasn't ready. She couldn't face him, not h

ck. Derick hadn't become a billionaire by

r flew open, slamming aga

stood behind him, one holding a lockpicking tool. Derick dismisse

ed, dingy apartment. His lip curled in distast

rs from the table behind her. She held them

expensive shoes crunching on a piece of packing tape. He looked

s voice dropping to a danger

her hand shaking, the sciss

cissors with his bare hand, squeezing them tight enough that the metal bit into his palm. He wrenc

slammed her back against the wall. The i

anded, his face inches from he

int, cloying scent of gardenias. Kamryn's signature perfume. It

s man, who had just been holding another woman, was now pressin

oked out, strugglin

r. He thought she would submit. He thought the familiar pr

he saw only arrogance. Only po

ered every ounce of saliva in her dry

sliding down toward his jaw. His eyes we

haking with rage. He grabbed her chin, his fingers diggi

he said, his voice a low, ven

tter, broken sound. "Your patience is

ion of Kamryn was a red flag. "You're delusio

said, her voice dead. "Go

ng. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to force the trut

he said, adjusting his cuffs. "A Grant doesn't get divorce

, leaving the broken doo

ed her arms around her knees, her body trembling uncontro

ed a heavy-duty deadbolt installed. Today.