Lahat ng Kabanata ng Burning For My Husband's Son: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 58

VEDAThe house went dead silent after the front door shut downstairs.I stayed curled on my side under the blankets, staring at the grey wallpaper near the headboard. The cotton taped to the crook of my arm was stiff with dried blood and scratchy against my skin.Every time I bent my arm, a deep pain shot through the sore spot where the needle had gone in.My head was pounding. My stomach felt completely hollow, but the sour taste of vomit still sat at the back of my tongue.I pushed the blankets back and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards were freezing against the soles of my feet, sending a sharp chill right up my calves. I stood up slowly, waiting for the room to stop swaying, then walked across the rug to the double doors.I gripped the brass handle and pulled.Nothing. The deadbolt didn't budge an inch. I gripped the metal knob with both hands and turned it hard to the left, then to the right, rattling it against the heavy frame."Open," I muttered, more to m

ZANE It was getting dark, and the main house was colder than outside. The maids stayed close to the walls with their eyes down. Silas's four new men worked in pairs, stiff black jackets and heavy utility belts, changing positions every hour. My left hand was deep inside the pocket of my pants, throbbing hard. The electrical tape around my thumbnail had turned gray and sticky at the edges, clinging to the raw skin underneath. I'd tried washing the dirt off my face in the downstairs bathroom an hour ago. The dark circles under my eyes looked like someone had carved them out with a dull knife. I turned the corner near the entrance to the guest library, heading for the side doors. The tall walnut door swung open and Amelia stepped straight into my path. A thick cream cardigan was pulled tight around her ribs, her hair tied in a messy knot like she'd been running her fingers through it for hours. She stood in the middle of the Persian rug, her small boots planted firmly on the floor

VEDAI lay on my back, staring at the ceiling.Silas had come back at eight that morning with the square amber bottle and plastic syringe. Then he'd returned at six that evening. Both times, he'd held my jaw, forced the liquid down my throat, and watched until I swallowed.The strange thing was, my body didn't feel heavy anymore. The awful, sour nausea that used to twist my stomach after those chalky pills was gone. My head was clear, the bitter iron taste had disappeared from my tongue, and the dizziness that used to hit me whenever I stood up hadn't returned.I felt steady. Stronger than I had in weeks.Then a thought came to me, one I didn't want.What if Zane was wrong?What if Silas wasn't trying to harm me? What if he was only trying to fix what he saw as a broken investment so I'd look healthy standing beside him at the next press conference?Outside in the hallway, leather creaked. The night guard shifted in the wooden chair outside my door, and a low radio murmur broke throug

ZANEMy head jerked toward the bedroom door, every muscle in my back tightening.The footsteps were getting faster, pounding up the stairs two at a time.It wasn't Silas. My father had never run anywhere in his life.Fuck. Marcus."Zane," Veda choked out against my neck, her voice shaking.Her legs were still locked around my waist. I pulled out of her quickly, my hands tightening around her hips. A sharp gasp tore out of her throat as the cold air hit her skin.Her feet hit the floor, but her knees buckled immediately. I caught her under the arms before she could fall and held her against the dresser.Out in the hall, Marcus's voice cut through the silence, low and fast.“Get up,” Marcus snapped at the guard in the hallway. “Silas just came through the main gate. He’s driving up the driveway right now.”The guard’s boots hit the floor with a heavy thud. His wooden chair scraped across the rug.“He wasn't supposed to be back until eight,” the guard muttered through the door.“Well, he