A Thousand Cuts (Underworld Kings)

Unfortunately, her head didn’t explode when I said that, though it sure did look like it was going to.

Her eyes flickered to the diamond on my finger. “You’ve already moved on to someone else. Disgusting.”

Though I’d been content to stay seated, not needing bullshit power plays, I now stood. “You really don’t want to talk about that with me,” I warned. I was dying to tell her the truth about what her son had done, but I doubted she would believe me. Her son was perfect, and I was garbage.

“What do you need this time?” Her upper lip curled back. “Your mother’s already dead, so you can’t need someone to foot the medical bills.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “Don’t you talk about her,” I hissed.

She tilted her head, smiling coldly now that she’d found my weak point. “That’s what you have in your future. Dying of a disease that is the consequence of a loose life. Your mother was too weak, too stupid and too much of a whore to give her daughter a stable life. To pay for her own medical bills.”

Her eyes flickered over me.

“You may look different than her, managed to sleep your way up the ladder, but you’re exactly the same, and you will get what you deserve eventually,” she snarled. “I’m glad I don’t have to pretend for a second longer that I don’t see you for everything you are.”

She didn’t give me a chance to respond, defend myself, or more importantly, my mother. No, she turned on her sensible heel and walked out of my roomy office.

If it were Pete’s father who had made the same visit, said the exact same words, I wouldn’t have even blinked. Every word would’ve bounced off my skin, not even leaving a bruise.

But because it was Diana, it cut. Right through to my heart. I’d liked her. She’d made me feel welcome, comfortable. She was the warm, supportive energy that I’d yearned for since I lost my mother. I’d let my guard down with her.

That was my mistake.

I’d thought that she was a good woman who was stuck with a terrible man. Thought that because she was so kind, so loving, it was tragic that she loved such a terrible man. But it turned out, she loved a terrible man because she was a terrible woman. Deep down, underneath the Ralph Lauren and the Jo Malone, she was rotten.

And because she was a woman, she knew how to hit, how to slice, how to cripple me with her words. She had me paralyzed so I didn’t get so much as a retort before she left. I ached to be cruel, monstrous and yell at her that she’d never see Pete again. That he’d died without honor, shitting himself likely pleading for mercy. But I wasn’t so ruled by emotions to do something that foolish.

My entire body was shaking, and tears trailed down my cheeks, something that confused and infuriated me. I didn’t cry. Not when a fucking mob boss forced me to be his wife. Not when I was punched in the face and almost raped. Not when a man’s hand was cut off in front of me. Killers, monsters, couldn’t make me cry.

But somehow, a vengeful and manipulative woman could.

When my cell rang, I was too preoccupied to think about the name that was flashing on the screen, I answered reflexively.

“Hello?” I croaked, my voice full of holes, sounding virtually unrecognizable.

“Sienna.” The familiar voice shocked my system, as did the cold concern contained within the single noun.

My back straightened, and I quickly wiped my eyes, as if Cristian could see me from across an ocean. He could not, but my office was made of glass, and no way in fuck did my colleagues need to see me crying. I might’ve been someone to fear because of who I was to Cristian in his world, but I was someone to fear and respect here because of who I was. Full stop. I needed to remember that.

“What’s wrong?” Cristian demanded.

“Like you care.”

“Sienna…” My name was a warning. His tone was terrifying and likely got him exactly what he wanted with most people in most situations.

I was not most people.

“Cristian,” I snapped. The bitterness in my voice was counteracted by my slight hiccup.

Cristian being Cristian caught it. “Sienna. If you don’t tell me what got you into this state then—”

“Then what?” I interrupted. “You’re across the world. And although you think you’re almighty and powerful, even you can’t wield aforementioned power across oceans.” There was blame in my tone, a surly accusation I hated.

Suddenly, I needed him near when, my entire life, I’d never needed anyone to fight my battles for me. I’d never felt so codependent on a person, let alone a man. It was toxic, I knew it was toxic. Especially since I was still planning on taking him down so he spent the rest of his life in prison.