All Chapters of The Unfortunate Trilogy: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

KADEIt continued for days, weeks even. He met his Unfortunate in the library. They kissed. They were intimate.Sometimes, they were loud. Other times, they were quiet. Sometimes they fell asleep the same way they finished; their skin slick with sweat, their limbs tangled. Other times, they dressed in silence and fled without so much as a thank you. More often than not, Kade was full of compliments and niceties, whispering things he shouldn't, and watched his Unfortunate's heart swell. On occasion, he was cruel and obscene out of frustration. He tried to put Nine in her place. She was his Unfortunate, not his lover. It never lasted long. He couldn't help but praise her, tell her how beautiful she was, how much he enjoyed her and her company, how bad he craved her when she wasn't with him, and how it was worse whenever she was. He called her a good girl, and she liked that the most. There was a line he needed to draw, he knew that, but it was the first time in his life he had someth

NINEDays pass, and I don't see him. At the party, I couldn't avoid him; he refused to let me out of his sight. Now, he avoids me as well as I avoid him. He writes me down for house duties, keeping me busy, and I don't know if it's punishment for volunteering my help without his permission. I make sure to steer clear of the library, despite every cell in my body begging me to go. He is in my veins like an addiction, but I know it isn't healthy. I know the feelings I'm developing for him are disastrous for us both. I need to keep my wits about me. I need to ensure the line between us doesn't blur more than it already has. On the eighth day, I'm in the Unfortunate bathhouse, alone, after a ten-hour kitchen and laundry shift. I reach for the taps and turn them. Cold water shoots out of the circular shower head above me, and I gasp as it drenches me. It wakes me up and soothes the tension in my muscles. In a few deep breaths, the stream turns from cold to hot. Steam billows, rapidly fil

KADEHe turned and rested against the door, his hands behind his back. He flickered his gaze over his Unfortunate, who had guilt written over every slice of her flesh. What did she do? Why was she with Vince? It took everything in him not to grip her small biceps and shake the answers from her. "You two are friends now, are you?"She pulled a face. "I'd sooner hang myself with my bed sheet." Nine turned and strolled into the sitting area, stopping only when the large, leather lounge was between them. He pushed off the door and wandered closer. He moved along the back of the lounge, and, with every step he took, she took one too, keeping the space, always keeping something between them. "I am only here because he brought me. I had no intention of intruding on your intimate moment with Miss Charlotte." "Intimate?" Kade huffed a gentle laugh. "Try again, Unfortunate." He had never been, nor intended ever to be, intimate with Charlotte. He didn't care about her or what they were doing

NINEMy eyelids flutter, and I twist under the blanket, searching for a more comfortable position to sleep on Kade's bed. Beside me, he sleeps peacefully, but I can't. Every creak and groan of the manor startles me awake, and the intimidating shadows of the enormous room morph into Vincent. And Michael. And Henry. And Elizabeth. Fear and guilt eat me up, and hot flushes of anxiety crawl over me. I should feel safe. I should be at ease, but I'm not because I'm breaking the law, and Vince knows it. No matter how powerful Kade is, he can't save me from the structure and laws of society. Intrusive thoughts of Vince send dread hurtling through me, further progressing my anxiety. If Kade ever finds out what happened in the bathhouse...I shudder at the thought of what he'd do. I shuffle my head on the pillow, moving closer to Kade. He sleeps with a frown, and my lips quirk at the crease between his brows. I reach out and graze the pad of my thumb along it. It smooths out, making my hear

NINEKade deals with Michael's body alone, and I stay on the lounge, staring at the fire, watching the flames as they dance. Every second he takes is torture. I don't know if he's okay or if he's been caught. I don't know if the shock of it all is too much for him to bear. I said I would help him. I should be out there with him. Exhaling, I throw off the fleece blanket and swing my legs off the edge of the lounge. I sit up, wincing at the pain radiating down my neck and glance over my shoulder to the bed. I can't help him carry Michael's body, but I can help him clean. I can get the room ready for when he returns. I lift off the couch, unsteady on my feet, and walk to the bathroom. I go through the cupboards, looking for anything that cleans blood splatter and leaves no trace, but there's nothing besides hair soaps and razor blades. I leave the basin and enter the linen closet behind the bathroom door. I pick out a new fitted sheet and duvet and place them on the lounge. Then, I mak