Where the Thorned Rose Withers

My husband, Killian Thorne, the Don of the Thorne family, watched as his one true love, Lena Finch, cried out in agony over a paper cut.

To punish me for it, he locked me in the family's sub-zero vault to "reflect on my actions."

While I was trapped, Killian whisked Lena away to Miami, where they basked in the sun and sipped champagne on a private yacht.

A week later, when he returned and unsealed the vault, the sight of my frost-caked corpse made him shatter.

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1

The moment my husband, Killian Thorne, strode into the foyer, his first words were, "Has she learned her lesson yet?"

The housekeeper, Mrs. Petrova, shook her head. "Not yet, Mr. Thorne. It's been eight days now. Don't you think it's time to let Mrs. Thorne out?"

Killian’s fingers stilled on his tie. He snorted, the sound dripping with contempt. "What's the rush? A few more days in there won't kill her. Let her stew. It's the only way she'll learn not to cross me. By the way, is that soup I ordered for Lena ready?"

"It's ready."

"Bring it up."

Mrs. Petrova sighed to herself but didn't dare utter another word.

Just then, Lena Finch drifted down the stairs, barefoot and wrapped in his silk bathrobe, her voice a fragile whisper. "Killian."

Killian noticed her damp hair clinging to her shoulders and immediately scowled. "Why didn't you dry your hair? Are you trying to catch a cold?"

He sent Mrs. Petrova for a towel at once. When she returned with it, Killian took it from her and began to personally dry Lena's long hair. The patience in his movements, the tenderness in his gaze—it was a kindness I had never dared to hope for.

"Killian, please let Aurora go. Don't be angry with her anymore, okay?"

At the mention of my name, the tenderness in Killian's face evaporated, replaced by a grim impatience. "Lena, don't plead for her. If she hadn't laid a hand on you, you wouldn't have gotten hurt. She nearly killed you. She has this coming. It's the only way to ensure she never tries it again. Every time I picture what she did, I want to snap her worthless neck."

His words sent a phantom chill skittering down my spine. I was already dead, yet the memory of his fury still rattled my very soul.

Lena's expression fell. "But I don't want my presence to ruin your relationship with Aurora. You're husband and wife, after all. Just being by your side is enough for me."

Killian leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Lena's forehead. "If she hadn't used such despicable means to force us apart all those years ago, you never would have left."

"Don't worry. Once I settle my current business, I'll file to terminate the marriage. Then I'll give you the grandest wedding this city has ever seen. You will be the one and only matriarch of the Thorne family."

Lena lowered her head, a shy smile gracing her lips. Killian seemed moved by the sight and was about to lean in closer when Mrs. Petrova hurried over.

"Mr. Thorne, I was just passing the basement. I smelled a strange metallic tang coming from inside. Should you go and check? I'm worried something has happened to Mrs. Thorne..."

I stared at Killian, searching his face for a flicker of concern. There was none. He just snorted with contempt.

"This is just another one of her ploys. Ignore it. The vault has emergency ventilation and backup food. She won't die. Mrs. Petrova, if you say one more word on her behalf, you can pack your bags and leave."

A bitter smile twisted my lips.