TWO: THE DEVIL’S CONFESSION

GIANNA

The world outside the window is a kaleidoscope of red and blue lights. They flash against the wet pavement, reflecting off the puddles that are forming rapidly in the sudden downpour.

It is raining. The sky is weeping for my mother because I cannot. I’m frozen like a statue carved out of ice and horror.

I see the paramedics moving too slowly. Or maybe they’re not moving at all. One of them, a man with broad shoulders and a yellow vest, stands up from the figure lying on the asphalt.

He shakes his head and he pulls a white sheet over the body.

The sheet turns transparent in the rain, clinging to the small, frail form underneath.

Mom.

"No," the word falls from my lips like a stone. "No. She’s just sleeping. She just fell."

A sharp, piercing sound cuts through the fog in my brain. Beep. Beep. Beep.

It is coming from my chest. My pacemaker, the device that keeps my broken heart pumping, is sending a warning signal. My pulse is too high.

My blood pressure is crashing. The pain is back, sharp and clawing, like a wild animal trying to rip its way out of my ribcage.

"Mom!" I scream, the sound tearing my throat raw. I turn, my hands scrambling against the window pane, leaving smears of sweat and condensation. I need to get to her, I need to wake her up.

A hand clamps onto my shoulder and it feels like a steel trap.

"Enough," Ryan’s voice is close to my ear. It’s not comforting, It’s cold, devoid of humanity.

He yanks me back and I stumble, my legs giving out, but he doesn't let me fall. He drags me away from the window, away from the sight of my dead mother, and throws me back toward the center of the living room.

My father is still tied to the chair. He’s unconscious now, his head hanging limp, blood dripping from his chin onto his ruined shirt.

"You killed her," I wheeze, clutching my chest. The beeping is louder now, frantic. Beep-beep-beep-beep. "You murderer! You killed my mother!"

Ryan laughs. It’s a dry, humorless sound. He walks over to the fireplace and leans against the mantle, looking at me with pure disgust. "I didn't kill her, Gianna. A truck did. I just... opened the door of opportunity."

"Why?" I sob, tears streaming down my face, mixing with the snot and the saliva. I feel pathetic. I look pathetic. "Why are you doing this? We loved you. I loved you!"

Ryan’s face twists. The mask of the charming husband drops completely, revealing the monster underneath. His eyes burn with a hatred so intense it makes me recoil.

"Love?" he spits the word out. "You think I married you for love? Look at yourself, Gianna. You’re a sickly, fragile little thing. You’re a burden. You think a man like me falls for a woman who needs a battery to keep her heart beating?"

The words strike me harder than his fists could. I gasp, struggling for air. "But... the hospital. When you were sick... I stayed..."

"All part of the plan," Ryan interrupts, waving his hand dismissively. "I needed to get close. I needed your father to trust me and what better way than to marry his precious, daughter?"

He pushes off the mantle and stalks toward me. He looms over me, a dark shadow blocking out the light.

"Twenty years ago," he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "A hit and run. A young couple left to die on the side of the road while a drunk driver sped away in a luxury sedan."

I stare at him, confused. My vision is tunneling. Black spots dance at the edges of my sight. "What... what are you talking about?"

"My parents," Ryan roars, the sudden volume making me flinch.

"My parents were killed twenty years ago! And do you know who was driving the car that hit them? Do you know who left my mother to bleed out in the gutter while he went home to his mansion?"

He points a shaking finger at my unconscious father.

"HIM! Your father! Richard Meyers!"

The revelation hits me like a physical blow. "No," I whisper. "That’s not true. My dad... he’s a good man."

"He’s a murderer!" Ryan screams. "He paid off the police, he buried the evidence and went on living his rich, perfect life while I grew up in the system. While I was beaten and starved in foster homes, and you were getting pony rides and private tutors!"

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. They are black pits of rage. "I swore I would destroy him. I swore I would take everything he loved. His money, his reputation, and his family."

He shoves my face away and I fall back onto the carpet, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The beeping in my chest is a constant, terrifying rhythm.

"So I became the perfect son-in-law," Ryan continues, pacing the room. "I infiltrated his company. I stole his assets. And tonight... tonight is the grand finale. An eye for an eye, Gianna. He took my parents. Now I’ve taken his."

"And me?" I ask, my voice barely audible. "What about me? Was everything a lie? Every kiss? Every touch?"

Ryan stops pacing. He looks down at me, and for a second, I hope to see a flicker of regret but there’s none.

"You were the easiest part," he sneers. "You were so desperate for love. So desperate to be seen as a woman and not a patient. It was pathetic, really. You were just a pawn, Gianna. A means to an end. And honestly? You were terrible in bed, it’s like I’m sleeping with a corpse."

I feel like vomiting. The bile rises in my throat, burning and acidic. The man I worshipped, the man I thought was my soulmate, has hated me every single second of our marriage.

"But don't worry," Ryan says, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "I wasn't lonely. I had plenty of comfort."

He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a thick envelope. He tosses it onto the floor in front of me. It lands with a heavy slap.

"Divorce papers," he says. "Sign them. Or don't. It doesn't matter. I own the house. I own the company. Your father signed over the last of his shares tonight before I started carving him up."

I stare at the papers. The bold black letters blur together.

DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.

"And as for comfort," Ryan chuckles darkly. "You should know that your cousin, Tasha... She's much more lively than you. She has been keeping me very warm for the last six months."

Of course it’s Tasha. My cousin, the only person besides my parents who I trusted.

"You're lying," I whisper, shaking my head. "Tasha wouldn't. She loves me."

"She hates you," Ryan corrects me. "She’s always hated you. She hates that you’re the heiress. She hates that you get the attention because you’re sick. We bonded over it, actually. Over how much we despise the Meyers family."

He claps his hands together. "Guards!"

Two large men in black suits enter from the kitchen. I recognize them. They are the security detail my father hired. They work for Ryan now.

"Get this trash out of my house," Ryan commands, pointing at me.

"No!" I scream as one of the men grabs my arm. "Ryan, please! It’s raining! My heart... I need my medicine! I’ll die out there!"

"That’s the point, Gianna," Ryan says coldly. He turns his back on me and pours another drink. "Die. You’ll do us all a favor."

The guard hauls me to my feet like I’m dead weight. My legs refuse to work. The pain in my chest is blinding now, white-hot agony radiating down my left arm.

"Dad!" I scream, looking back at my father one last time. He doesn't move.

They drag me through the hallway. My heels scrape against the hardwood floor, leaving scuff marks. They drag me to the front door, the same door that was left open for my mother to walk to her death.

They throw me.

I fly through the air and land hard on the wet concrete of the driveway. The impact knocks the wind out of me. The rain is freezing, it soaks through my silk dress in seconds, chilling me to the bone. The water mixes with the gravel, scraping the skin off my palms.

I cough, choking on water and bile. I try to crawl back toward the warmth of the house, towards the light.

"Ryan!" I beg, my voice lost in the roar of the storm.

A sleek black car pulls into the driveway, its headlights blinding me, it stops just inches from my face. The engine purrs like a predator.

The driver’s side door opens. A pair of red-bottomed stilettos steps out onto the wet pavement.

I look up, squinting through the rain, Tasha stands there. My cousin from hell. She’s wearing a fur coat that looks dry and warm and her makeup is perfect.

She looks down at me, lying in the mud and the rain, and she smiles. It isn't a friendly smile, It’s more like a smile of triumph.

She doesn't offer me a hand, she doesn't ask if I am okay, she just steps over me. She literally steps over my body like I am a piece of garbage on the street.

"Hey baby," Tasha calls out, her voice sweet and melodic.

Ryan appears in the doorway. He’s smiling for real now. He opens his arms.

"Welcome home, Mistress of the Manor," Ryan says.

Tasha walks into his arms, and he kisses her. He kisses her with a passion he never showed me and he kicks the door shut, blocking out the light, blocking out the warmth.

I am left in the dark, in the rain with my dead mother’s body ten feet away and my heart slowly stopping in my chest.