Heart of a Killer by Viola Tempest

Author:Viola Tempest
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Viola Tempest Publishing

CHAPTER 4

“So… You’re Callum’s wife?” Donna asks, taking a seat across from me. Her husband, Gary, looks around and sits on the couch beside his wife. Glasses of lemonade are in front of all of us, but nobody has touched it yet. “He hasn’t mentioned you. And I didn’t catch a name.”

I shrug and reach forward to grab a glass. I bring it to my lips and take a long sip. When I set it down, I recite the story that’s been playing over and over in my head. “He’s ashamed of how it happened. We got drunk one night and made our way down to the courthouse. We may have been intoxicated, but the contract is real.” I hold up my left hand, where I slid one of the regular rings from my right hand—my mother’s old engagement band that I’m not sure she’s noticed missing—onto my ring finger. “He’s in denial.”

Their living room is lovely, I’ll give them that. Decorated in plain red florals on plain wooden furniture. Completely void of clutter and dust; they’re truly the perfect family.

Gary snorts, looking me up and down. “You don’t look like his type.”

I go completely still. “Excuse me?” I demand, my face falling into a frown. “I’m exactly his type. I am his type. Me. Not that bimbo he calls his girlfriend.” The words slip through my mouth before I have a chance to filter them. Gary and Donna look shocked, their eyes wide and mouths slightly parted. I clear my throat. “My apologies. This is a sensitive topic, as you might imagine.”

My hand subtly slides down my leg, to where I have a knife stashed there. I keep it on me at all times, just in case things get ugly. I’ve had to defend myself before against people who won’t take me seriously. If I have to again, if they try to get between Callum and I, I won’t hesitate.

My fingers brush against the handle, but Gary and Donna’s eyes track the movements. They can’t see the knife, but I can tell by the looks they exchange that they’re nervous.

Good.

“Maybe I should call him,” Donna says. “This doesn’t seem like a conversation I’d like to have without him here.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” I say sweetly, standing. I take a few ominous steps toward them, my fists balling at my sides. My head cocks to the side, and I can’t contain my pleasure at seeing them cower before me. The confusion and shock on their faces is so genuine that I almost laugh. Finally, finally, people are showing their true thoughts. “This is a conversation best left between him and I without the interference of his parents.”

Because the moment he sees me, he’ll fall so far in love with me that it won’t even be a contest.

“I’ll be seeing you around,” I tell them, wiggling my fingers in the air.

“You didn’t tell us your name,” Donna shouts after me.

My fingertips rest on the handle. Close. So close were they to leaving things as they should be.

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