Chapter 3

"It was just a task, Karyme," Archie said, his voice frantic. "It meant nothing. I love you."

He raised his right hand. "If I ever truly betray you, if I ever lie to you again, I hope I walk out that door and get hit by a car and die."

Karyme' s hand flew to his mouth, stopping the terrible words.

A part of her, the foolish, loving part, wanted to believe him.

Just one more time. This would be the last time.

He seemed to sense her surrender. Relief washed over his face, and he pulled her into a desperate hug.

"I can't live without you, Karyme. I'll die without you."

She let him hold her, her body limp in his arms.

Before the sun came up, he was gone from their bed.

A cold premonition slid down her spine. She got up and walked quietly down the stairs.

She found him in one of the first-floor guest rooms.

He was kneeling on the floor in front of Faustina.

He was gently applying ointment to a dark, ugly bruise on her knee. The kind of bruise you get from being held down.

Faustina was wearing a silk nightgown. As Karyme watched, she let one of the straps slide off her shoulder.

"You were so rough last night, Archie," Faustina whimpered, her voice a breathy complaint. "You hurt me."

Archie's hand froze. A dark, hungry look flickered in his eyes.

"Don't you ever show your face in front of Karyme," he growled, his voice low. "She is my bottom line. You understand?"

Then he leaned in and kissed Faustina, his mouth crushing hers. His hand slid from her knee up her thigh, disappearing under the silk of her nightgown.

Faustina gasped, her breath catching. "Archie... Karyme is upstairs..."

"She took a sleeping pill," he murmured against her skin. "She won't know a thing."

They tumbled onto the bed, their bodies tangling together again.

Outside the door, Karyme stood frozen. Her vision blurred, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

Her mind went completely blank.

A sleeping pill.

He had drugged her.

The man who had just sworn on his life that he would never betray her again.

She stumbled back to her room, a ghost walking through her own home.

She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the wall until the sun came up.

She heard Archie's phone ring in the hallway. It was his best friend.

"Yeah, I'll have to give Faustina a wedding," Archie was saying, his voice casual. "Just a small one. A bit of compensation. She's carrying my child, after all."

A pause.

"Don't worry about Karyme. I've given her all the love I have. This is just... business."

Karyme bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her fingers curled into tight fists, her nails digging into her palms.

Her own phone buzzed. It was a text from a private number.

[All records of the child have been successfully destroyed. Your new identity and travel documents are ready.]

Karyme took a deep breath. It was time.

She would leave him.

He would lose her forever.

And he would never, ever know that she had already given him a son.

But Faustina would not let her go so easily.

Soon, Karyme and her child would be trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape.

For the next week, the pattern repeated itself.

Every night, Archie would bring her a glass of warm milk, laced with sleeping pills.

Every night, he would slip out of their bed and go to Faustina's room.

And every night, Karyme, pretending to be asleep, would get up, walk barefoot down the cold stairs, and stand outside that guest room door, forcing herself to listen.