Chapter 4
Evelyn's POV
I make out the tattoos on their arms. Eastside's mark.
I force my head up to look at her.
"He'll find out. He'll kill you."
Natalie laughs.
She walks over and crouches in front of me, tilting my chin up with the pen.
"Will he?" She tilts her head. "What am I to him? Pure, kind, the one he protects."
She lets go of the pen and stands.
"And you? You're the stand-in who screws everything up. The tool that embarrasses him. Even if Eastside kills you, he'll just blame you for being careless."
She turns and waves at the men.
I close my eyes. She's right. To Grayson, I'm nothing but a joke.
Cold.
Cracks spread across the ceiling like spiderwebs.
Someone laughs in the distance.
Pain.
Can't tell where it hurts. Feels like my whole body is broken.
Time stops making sense. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.
I don't know.
When I wake again, I'm lying on a metal table.
The light overhead burns my eyes. Straps pin my arms and legs down.
Natalie stands beside me wearing surgical gloves, holding a scalpel.
"You're awake? Thought you'd passed out already."
"Actually, this is better. More fun this way."
I try to speak but only ragged sounds escape my throat.
"You know what?" She picks up the scalpel. "I always wanted to study surgery. Finally getting my chance to practice. Don't worry, I'll be careful."
She pauses, smiles.
"Even though there's no anesthesia."
The blade cuts into my skin and my scream catches in my throat.
The first time I took a bullet for him seven years ago, it hurt like this too.
Back then I thought it was worth it.
Now I understand I was never worth loving.
Natalie cuts without expression.
"Guess what I'm taking?" She reaches inside me. "The thing that made you feel valuable. It's not useful anymore."
She cuts something away and tosses it into a tray.
Natalie pulls off her gloves and drops them on my face.
"Tomorrow I become his wife. And you disappear forever."
The pain vanishes in an instant.
I can't feel my body anymore.
The ceiling gets farther away.
No, I'm floating upward.
I look down at the body on the table.
So broken, so still.
Is that me?
Live well.
Mom's voice echoes in my ears.
I'm sorry, Mom.
I really can't hold on anymore.
I don't want him anymore. I don't want Lucas.
Natalie walks to the table and checks my neck for a pulse.
Waits a few seconds.
No pulse.
She pulls out her phone, shines the flashlight at my pupils.
No response.
She smiles.
"Finally dead."
She makes a call. "It's me. Everything ready? Yeah, stick to the plan. The kid... deal with him after the wedding. He's still useful for now."
She hangs up and looks at my body. "Who did you think you were? Just a stand-in. Now you're not even that."
Two men from Eastside stuff the body into a black bag and drive to the docks.
They throw the bag into the ocean. Waves swallow everything.
My soul floats in midair.
I want to leave, want to go where Mom is.
But something holds me back.
Like an invisible thread connecting me to someone.
I'm trapped.
I don't know how much time passes.
When I become aware again, I'm standing on an unfamiliar lawn. Under white tents, guests sip champagne and chat.
Grayson stands at the altar in a charcoal suit.
I remember this suit.
He wore it when I begged him to take wedding photos with me.
Back then his face stayed blank the whole time, like he was completing a task.
Now there's no expression on his face, but no impatience either.
The piano sits in the corner, lid open.
No one there.
The officiant walks over and says quietly, "Sir, it's time."
Grayson looks at the piano, then at the entrance. "We wait."
The officiant hesitates. "But the guests..."
"I said wait."
Lucas stands next to Natalie and says quietly, "Dad, stop waiting. She's probably throwing a tantrum again, staying away on purpose."
Natalie holds his arm and says softly, "Maybe she won't show. We could..."
"She'll come." Grayson cuts her off. "She promised."
Natalie's fingers tighten around her bouquet.
Ten minutes pass.
Grayson pulls out his phone and dials.
No answer.
He calls over one of his men. "Find her."
Guests start whispering.
Natalie's smile becomes more strained. Grayson stands motionless like a statue.
I stand next to him. He can't see me, can't hear me. But I'm right here, watching all of this.
Suddenly one of his men rushes in from outside.
He runs so fast he nearly knocks over the champagne tower.
He reaches Grayson, out of breath.
"Boss, she's dead!"
"We found her body in the ocean!"
