Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 405

She lifted her chin, eyes flashing cold and sharp.

…

Grayson Manor.

“Hanley…”

“Violet…”

…

Two voices, thick with intimacy and tangled longing, drifted from the phone speaker.

A slender, well-manicured hand gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Frieda’s face was ashen.

She stared at the anonymous email, the blank profile picture on the message morphing in her mind’s eye into a smirking, mocking face.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away, a wave of nausea rolling through her.

Hanley… had he been lying to her this whole time? And not just lying—conspiring with the very friend she’d trusted most?

Frieda replayed in her mind how just days ago Hanley and Gennifer had sat with her, comforting her with gentle words. Now, her limbs felt icy as the memory twisted in her gut.

Was it possible that everything she’d suspected, every doubt she’d voiced, had been true all along?

How could it be?

They’d both insisted, time and again, that Violet was dead.

And she’d believed them.

So, Gennifer—no…

Gennifer must have known Violet was alive. That’s why she’d joined Hanley in this elaborate deception.

Frieda’s fingers trembled, her chest tight with anger and humiliation so fierce she nearly broke down then and there. The tears that threatened to fall, she forced down and swallowed.

She steadied herself, scrolling through the rest of the email.

There was more—recordings this time, audio files filling the inbox. Most were Violet’s syrupy voice, breathless and sweet, calling Hanley’s name in bed. The cloying sounds made Frieda’s skin crawl. Sometimes, in the throes of passion, Violet would even mention Frieda’s name, taunting her.

“Hanley, who do you like better, me or her?”

“Violet, don’t even bring her up. There’s no comparison. Don’t spoil the mood.”

Hanley’s voice, always curt and annoyed when Frieda came up, would quickly soften as he soothed Violet, coaxing giggles from her.

Frieda replayed those audio files over and over. By the end, a brittle, heartbreaking smile twisted the corners of her carefully maintained face, though the years had etched their mark. Silent tears traced down her cheeks.

How foolish she’d been.

All those moments of unease hadn’t been paranoia after all. The truth had always been there, if only she’d dared to look—she was the one who’d invited the wolves in, mistaking them for friends.

“Hanley.”

She stood, glanced at the address from the email, and set off for Quinborough Police Station.

She didn’t know who had sent the anonymous message or what their motives might be. But deep down, she was grateful. Those recordings had opened her eyes—she wasn’t going to play the fool any longer.

Choking back her sorrow and rage, Frieda called for the driver.

By early evening, the car pulled up at the police station.

Frieda presented her ID, noticing the odd glances exchanged between a few of the uniformed officers nearby.

She clenched her fists, biting back any reaction.

“This way, ma’am.”

The warden escorted her personally—not the way Hanley and Violet had been treated, but guiding her straight to Gennifer’s cell.

The click of her heels stopped at the door. Inside, Gennifer—silent until now—suddenly lit up, rushing to the bars, eyes wide with hope. “Mom! You’re here! Did you figure out a way to get me out?”

Her voice trembled, excitement barely contained, but when she saw who it was, the smile on her face froze.

It wasn’t Violet. It was Frieda.

Gennifer’s smile faltered. “M-Mom? What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?”

Frieda’s gaze was ice, her lips curving into a cold, brittle smile.

“Gennifer, weren’t you just calling for me a moment ago?”