Chapter 27 My Fiancé Kills People
I spent hours pretending I wasn't staring at her. But my gaze never left Vanessa.
Red and blue lights flickered over the crowded room. Chattering and laughter blended with the loud music. But amid it all, she stood out.
As maddening as she could be, I liked her like this—free. Head thrown back, laughing, arms raised as she moved with the crowd.
This Vanessa was different from the one I first met: the sulking lady who was drowning in whiskey all because of a dickhead.
Fine. I admit it. I knew who she was before I slid onto that barstool next to her.
I wasn't jovial enough to want to strike up conversations with strangers. Especially not a woman who looked like her soul was stepped on.
I recognized her to be Derek's wife.
Though I never attended the wedding, I saw photos of them as a couple because a certain Catherine wouldn't stop rambling on about how beautiful her daughter-in-law was. Ex daughter-in-law.
And my father used Derek and Vanessa's photo to preach to me about how beautiful married life was. How happy Derek was in the photo. And how colorful a woman could make a man's life be.
I could agree with most part but not all. Just the part about how women bring colors into a man's life. And that was that for it.
I had to admit, she was impressively appealing to the eyes in the wedding photos.
She had a bright smile on her face, looking stunning in that lilac dress, sun-kissed skin, and a jaw-dropping figure. She was too good for my brother.
I remember the way my lip curled when my father showed me the photos. Derek was sick in the head, and I knew one thing for sure...his bride would never know peace.
Everyone knew about his obsessive, toxic thing with Annabella. Or was it Ella? Hannah? Whatever. Vanessa's step-sister.
He wouldn't shut up about her before the wedding. Hell, even on his wedding day, I heard he was still acting like a lovesick puppy.
Then, boom, his bride was replaced.
I just felt immediate pity for the unfortunate woman, knowing damn well my brother wouldn't give a pig-ass fuck about her. The truth? Derek would always love that other girl—whatever her name was.
Seeing Vanessa that night, alone at the bar, downing whiskey like it was water, it just confirmed what I already knew: her marriage was a joke.
So was the whole idea of marriage, really.
It was bullshit.
Happy wives don't end up in bars, covered in bruises and choking back tears over men who never deserved them.
All this I learnt from the relationship between my pathetic parents.
I knew better than to get involved with anything related to Derek. I should've walked away like I always do. But I didn't. Couldn't.
Not when she looked like that —broken and barely holding on.
It was none of my business what went wrong with her marriage. But when I finally spoke to her...
That burning fire behind her eyes. Her razor-shaped tongue. Her words dripping with sarcasm.
It pulled me in.
I wanted to know her. Take her. Own her. And make her mine.
Derek wasn't deserving of her. Neither was I. But I don't think I wanted to see her hung up on Derek for the most time.
That's why I planned to take my time breaking down those walls she'd built around herself. Give her something worth craving.
Make her forget my brother ever existed. Make her want me just as much as I wanted her.
To pull her into my world—one steeped in sin and a little twisted. Somehow, I doubted she'd hate any of it.
She threw her hands in the air, swaying her hips to the music and my gaze traveled down to the bare expanse of her long, smooth legs before I tore my gaze away, my jaw clenching.
I just hope I won't regret staying.
I remained on the stool, my eyes fixed on her like a part-time bodyguard. She wanted to unwind? I'd gladly give her all the space to do that, while I stayed behind, making sure she doesn't go overboard or get hurt.
Just when I thought the night would go easily and less troublesome, a slender blonde walked up to Vanessa.
My shoulder tensed.
He wrapped his arm around her waist without even asking if she wanted to dance—even if he asked, he wouldn't have gotten the chance anyway. That pissed me the fuck off.
Vanessa tried to sidestep him, pushing his hand off her, but he didn't take the hint. He didn't seem to want to get out of her sight.
I rose from my chair and made my way through the crowd, fighting to keep my anger in check, just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation.
"I like you, miss." The blonde boy chuckled, inhaling Vanessa's hair.
"Oh. How nice." she laughed nervously, trying to push him away, and he stumbled back.
"Of course. Believe me, words don't cut it. How about I prove it with a kiss right here? Think you can handle that, pretty?"
"No. I mean, that's a terrible idea. I'm engaged, and my fiancé isn't someone you want to mess with. He kills people." She tried to step away, but he tightened his grip on her arm.
Do I?
Had to be the scene she witnessed between me and Grant. Seemed like she added that to the list of cons under my name.
"If he kills people, then I steal people's women. Who knows, he might wanna have a good threesome."
Something ugly unfurled in my guts. God forbid I wanted to share Vanessa. And if it was one thing I hated, it was men who didn't take a fucking hint.
I stepped in between them, blocking Vanessa from his sight.
"I'm assuming she wants you to get lost. Why're you still lingering?" I stared down at him.
Blondie eyed me, probably thinking of taking me on. Now, that would be his biggest problem. Unless he wanted to learn how to do everything left-handed because I'd make sure his right arm was out of service.
"And who are you?" He asked.
"He's my fiancé. Now get lost." Vanessa stepped around me and leveled a glare at the blonde. "But if you're dumb enough to keep mouthing off, I hope your family can afford your coffin."
I almost forgot she used to be a sweet little lamb, blushing at the slightest thing. Now, an unfamiliar iciness radiated from her, and it made me smirk. She sounded...mean. Her words unfiltered. And, that's exactly my type.
Blondie scowled, realizing he wouldn't win if things got ugly. He shuffled off, muttering "Typical brain-dead Bitch." under his breath.
Vanessa's face stiffened. She heard his words. And sadly for him, I did too.
He didn't take two steps before I yanked his collar, hard. He let out a sharp cry—guess my nails bit into his neck.
"Those your last words?" My voice edged with fury. My grip tightened around his collar.
He laughed, looking nervous and cocky. "Come on, man. You really wanna fight over a woman?"
"Yes," I said, leaning closer. "So open your filthy mouth again and let's see how well you can walk with a broken face."
It was one thing for him to run his mouth at Vanessa. And it was another to do it under my watch.
Unless he wanted to see how funny he would look bleeding.