A Divorce He Regrets (Alissa Nexus) novel Chapter 214

ALEXANDER

Vanessa stood before me, guilt etched on her face, but I was not in the mood to care. My body hummed with fury, my fists bunched up so tightly my knuckles went white. My heart thundered like a war drum inside my chest, and my breathing was rough, rasping. Raina was not in her room.

And the guilty, dumb expression on Vanessa's face told me she knew exactly why.

"Where is she?" I growled, my voice low, barely controlled.

Vanessa stepped back but didn't reply immediately. Her eyes flashed to the ground, as a coward avoids the eye of a predator.

"I—I'm sorry," she mumbled, wringing her hands in front of her. "I should have known it was a stupid thing to do. I just—I thought I was helping."

Helping?

I let out a bitter, humorless laugh, my head shaking in disbelief. A flush of heat crawled up my back, my eyes growing red.

"Helping?" I growled, and stepped forward, my body casting a shadow over hers. "How in the hell is that ever going to make any sense? If you actually wanted to help, if you wanted my fucking forgiveness, then why didn't you come to me in the first place? If you knew what Raina was thinking, you'd have said something to me before she fucking left, not afterwards!"

Vanessa sagged. "That's why I'm telling you now—"

I lost it. "Now? Now?! Too damn late, Vanessa! How stupid are you?" My words rang off the walls of the room, heavy with anger. Tears formed on her lashes, but I didn't care. I was past mercy then.

"Get out!" I told her, my voice decisive. Bitter. Heartless. "I never want to see your face again. You are no sister of mine."

Vanessa's lips parted, as if she desired to beg, to beg for a second chance, but she must have read the unrelenting fury in my eyes because she closed her lips.

"Alex, please—"

"No." My voice cracked slightly, the gravity of my words settling on my chest. "If anything happens to Raina, I will never forgive you."

The suffocating silence that followed was a burden on my ribs, something that felt invisible yet infinitely heavy. I stepped back from Vanessa, clenching my jaw. My hands trembled. I clamped them tighter, trying to stop the storm raging within me.

Dominic sat in the corner of the room, knees bent, elbows on his knees, his face a mask of tense control. He was as devastated as I was, but the fury burning in his eyes was silent, lethal.

He breathed slowly, then gritted out, "We should've tied her up."

I remained silent.

I had attempted to protect her. I had locked her in that damn room, for her own protection. But then I had let my guilt overwhelm me. I had gone soft.

I had arrived at her doorstep with plans to get things straight with her—to cook her supper, stay with her, make sense of it all. But as soon as I saw that door ajar, I knew.

Something was wrong.

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