Tears on My Gravestone

In the end, Vivian got through to Jayden. He hit the gas and sped to my villa, frantic behind the wheel.

Everything in me knew his panic was for his colleagues, not me. But my heart? It fluttered anyway, clinging to the foolish hope that some small part of it was meant for me.

If Jayden hadn't been an undercover cop and I hadn't been a criminal boss' daughter, he would've walked away the moment he saw me. But in the end, the only thing that made him stay was my last name.

That idiot actually thought he was hiding his identity well, but I saw right through him the second I laid eyes on him. I always had the feeling his superior must've hated him. Why else would they have sent him undercover?

Nobody had any clue how much time I wasted back then covering for him and running his messages.

Jayden's car pulled up to my villa before long. He stepped out and opened the front gate without missing a beat. Just like I'd expected, the place was empty, with nothing but a spread of cold dishes on the dining table.

Jayden had called me a dozen times on his way over, but I didn't answer once. Now, he was a breath away from losing it.

He swallowed his rage and dialed Hank Walker. "Find Katherine."

Hank's voice oozed amusement over the phone. "Well, well, Jay. Didn't you say that you'd be with Ms. Vivian for her birthday?

"And now you're chasing after Katherine instead? Still think she'd make a better wife, huh?"

"Shut your trap!" Jayden snapped. "How many times do I have to say it? Stop calling her that.

"She's trouble. Anyone who gets close to her ends up screwed. Are you trying to get me killed or what?"

"Chill out, Jay. It's just… I feel like Katherine's always had your back. No matter how badly you screwed up, she covered for you, year after year. Vivian's not like that. She smiles at your face and then stabs—"

"That's enough!" Jayden snarled. "Don't you dare compare Vivi to her! Someone as rotten as Katherine doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air. Say that again, and I swear I'll rip your tongue out."

Jayden hung up and, without thinking twice, flipped the dining table. Plates, silverware, and wine glasses crashed to the floor with a sharp, shattering noise.

Some of the creamy spinach soup had splattered onto the couch, wilted spinach clinging to the armrest in a slimy mess.

A pang of regret hit me. This was the last meal I'd ever make for Jayden. Even tossing it would've been better than this. Now, it was smeared all over the floor, making the whole place feel gross.

But Jayden wasn't done venting his anger. He grabbed the mahogany chair and slammed it into the wall. The concrete had only been applied that day, and the impact tore a chunk out.

A pale hand stuck out from the crumbling wall. One look from Jayden, and he'd see my corpse stuffed inside.