His Poisoned Love, My Escape

er pocket. It was a n

is D

t from college-calm, deep, and steady. It

ce hoarse. "Tonight. I need a new identity,

asked, no hint of

e. The Ball

new name, and a flight confirmation within the hour. The shares a

ion. I'm buying my freedom. You hate him. Taking hi

pragmatist. Appealing to his rivalry with A

r end. "Alright, Alana. A transacti

ne wen

dull, throbbing reminder of her reality. She found a stack of documents

e papers her lawyer had drafted months ago, a fantas

er room, her steps l

found her lying in bed, the pict

with concern. He cradled her uninjure

oice thick with what sounded like genuine r

r. "Don't ever think of leaving me, Alana. I

ago. He had tracked her plane, bought out the entire hotel she was staying in, and

ot as a gift, but

carefully neutral. She couldn't let him see

k at," she said, her voice soft. "It's a n

divorce agreement hidden safely within. "Your s

t even glance at them. He trusted her implicitly in matters of busin

through, signing each one without a second thought. His s

said, setting the papers aside.

ang. He had just signed away hi

ay of soup and bread to the bedside. He was a monster,

g the last spoonful, her

cious smirk on her face

n. This one on your hand is particularly ugly. I wo

-up picture of Alana' s

ten had broken two of her fingers because Joy

a said, her voice low. "

ce taunted, st

in the hall. Aust

e door, a flicker of panic and

k, slashed her own arm with a shallow cut, a

own her face. "Alana... she attacked m

bleeding arm to the letter opene

ion. The rage. The immedi

didn'

e completely. He ru

ou?" he asked, his hands hoverin

cold annoyance. "Joyce,

e!" Joyce screeched,

, let alone attack you," Austen said,

ildered. This was a firs

haking with a mix of fury and genuine emotion. "Check

tice of it all, the years of basel

o a gentle hug. "Shh, my love. It's okay.

"You don't need to

ce. "Go home, Joyce.

then furious, but she

cker of somethin

believe me?" she as

orehead. He held her tight for a moment, then let

room, his footsteps r

been holding. For a single, insane moment, she t

s obliterated

a hand clamping a chemical-soak

e sweet, sickly smel

ht was of Austen' s part

The most brut