"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 97

They put Julian in the trunk and drove to a cluster of unfinished buildings beyond the outer ring road.

Some had already been partly demolished.

By the time they dragged him out, the sedative had worn off.

They took him to the roof and pulled the hood away.

His immaculate hair was a mess. Bruises marked his face.

Lucian stood at the edge.

Only a low railing, barely reaching his shins, separated him from the drop.

Wind filled his black coat and sent its edges flying.

Eyes closed, head tipped slightly back, he spread his arms.

Several stories above the ground, he looked as though the wind might carry him over.

Even as a ghost, I was frightened.

I moved toward him, instinctively wanting to pull him back.

Julian looked around. Panic flashed in his eyes before he forced it down.

“What the hell do you want? First you frame me. Now you abduct me in broad daylight. I know you have influence, but you’ve gone too far.”

His ability to occupy the moral high ground was astonishing.

Lucian ignored him.

He turned, drew the revolver, opened the cylinder, and tipped three cartridges into his palm.

Julian went white and retreated.

“You lunatic. Are you going to kill me? Murder has consequences.”

I laughed.

So he did know that.

“Ever heard of Russian roulette?”

A faint smile touched Lucian’s lips.

“I ask. You answer. Wrong answer, I pull the trigger. Let’s see which lasts longer. Your luck or your lies.”

The game brought back a memory.

When I first broke into Rosehaven and offered to gamble my life, this was what we played.

Three rounds in the cylinder.

A spin.

Life and death divided equally.

Back then, I had decided to risk everything.

I picked up the revolver, put it to my temple, and pulled the trigger twice.

Two empty clicks.

Luck had spared me.

My legs shook.

I smiled because I was still alive.

I had won.

With only one empty chamber left, Lucian couldn’t fire twice without hitting a loaded one.

But I wasn’t naive enough to think I could force him to die in his own house.

I pressed the gun against the table and met his eyes.

Beautiful.

Cold.

Bottomless.

I was terrified, but I couldn’t let him see it.

“We’re gambling on luck, Mr. Blackwood. Mine was good. Consider this my win. Give me the formula.”

I remembered how his expression changed.

Amusement.

Surprise.

Then that dazzling, dangerous smile.

The last thing he said to me that night was, “Remember, Stella. You started this.”

The Lucian from seven years ago and the man before me slowly became one.

I had risked my life for Julian.

Now he was using the same game to punish him.

For a moment, I could only watch.

I had known him for years while alive.

Yet I had learned more about him in these weeks after death.

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“I’m not playing your fucking game,” Julian said, bloodless. “You just want to kill me.”

Lucian paid him no more attention than a barking dog.

“Pearl took Stella’s face and eyes.”

He raised the gun.

“What did you take?”

He knew.

The injustice had been buried inside me so long.

Now someone finally saw it.

Tears spilled down my face.

Even without evidence, even if he alone believed it, that mattered.

Julian wasn’t going to confess.

“My sister has psychiatric problems. You frightened her. She could have said anything. You can’t rely on her word. I should be demanding answers about what you did to her.”

He had chosen the wrong man for that performance.

Lucian pulled the trigger.

Click.

The sound cracked through the rooftop silence.

Julian flinched so hard he nearly fell.

“You’re insane. There are cameras outside the hospital. They’ll have reported the abduction. I won’t let this go. I’ll have you arrested.”

Click.

“Lucky,” Lucian observed.

Julian’s bluster collapsed.

The muzzle was only a few feet away.

He wet his pale lips.

“Let me go now, and I can pretend none of this happened.”

“What did you take from her?”

The gun lowered from his forehead to his chest.

Lucian closed his eyes hard.

His throat moved.

“Her heart?”

I went to his side.

“You’re right. It’s beating inside him. He lied to me for nineteen years. Used me to keep himself alive.”

Something fierce lay beneath Lucian’s eyes, but I couldn’t understand it.

Julian hadn’t expected him to guess so precisely.

Panic flickered and vanished.

“She’s my wife. How could I hurt her? You know better than anyone how much she loves me. If I needed her heart, I’d only have to ask. She’d agree.”

“Giving willingly and being deceived are two different fucking things!”

Lucian’s fury broke through.

Beside him, I could almost touch it.

He had always known how little Julian deserved me.

And I had refused to hear a word against him.

I wished I could go back and slap sense into the woman I had been.

“One last question.”

Lucian’s eyes were as sharp and cold as a blade.

“Where is she?”

Julian stepped back.

His gaze flicked to the prayer beads on Lucian’s wrist.

He swallowed.

“Ask as many times as you like. I never hurt her. Accusing me of murdering my wife without evidence? You need help.”

Lucian’s patience ended.

“Wrong answer. Die.”

“No!”

I moved between them.

“Lucian, stop. He isn’t worth destroying yourself over.”

I wanted Julian dead.

I wanted him to pay for my life with his own.

But killing him here would make Lucian a murderer.

Everyone knew they hated each other. He would be the first suspect.

Even if his power kept him out of prison, his reputation would be worse than ever.

And Julian would die an innocent victim.

The devoted husband.

He didn’t deserve that.

I couldn’t stop Lucian.

Then sirens sounded below.

Knox looked over the edge.

“Hayes is here.”

While Lucian’s attention shifted, Julian shoved past him and rushed to the railing.

“Detective! Help me! He kidnapped me. He’s going to kill me!”

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