Chapter 6

Nathan’s initial shock lasted exactly three seconds. Then, the color returned to his pale face, and his fear melted into a slow, arrogant smirk.

He looked at the towering bodyguards, then at the line of sleek Maybachs, and finally, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Actors?" Nathan scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You actually hired actors, Maureen? And rented cars? This is pathetic, even for you."

Taylor peeked out from behind his shoulder. "She probably spent her entire life savings just to scare us, Nate. How embarrassing."

"You really think a stunt like this is going to make me beg?" Nathan sneered, stepping closer to the glass table. "Go ahead. Play your little game. When the rental time is up and you’re sleeping on the sidewalk, don't bother calling me. I won't answer."

I didn't waste a single breath on him.

I turned my back on the man I had destroyed myself for.

The lead bodyguard opened the heavy door of the Maybach. I slid into the plush leather seat. The door closed with a heavy, expensive thud, shutting out Nathan's smug laughter forever.

Three days passed.

I was living in a world of vibrant color and absolute luxury. Israel’s penthouse in the sky was a fortress. My new eyes, fully healed and sparkling with life, drank in every detail of the city skyline. But mostly, they drank in Israel. He was a devastatingly handsome man, and the way he looked at me—with a fierce, consuming devotion—was intoxicating.

But my phone never stopped buzzing.

Nathan’s arrogance was slowly cracking, replaced by a pathetic, simmering panic.

Monday, 8:00 AM: Okay, you made your point. Come home. Taylor doesn't know how to use the espresso machine.

Tuesday, 2:00 PM: This isn't funny anymore, Maureen. The house is a mess. Come clean it up.

Wednesday, 9:00 AM: Where did you put my custom eye drops? My eyes are burning. Answer me!

Wednesday, 11:30 PM: Maureen, please. My vision is getting blurry. I need my drops. I need you to administer them. Taylor's hands shake too much. Get back here right now.

I stared at the glowing screen. A cold, dark smile touched my lips.

When I gave Nathan my corneas, the surgery came with strict rules. His eyes required a highly specialized, custom-compounded drop every single day to prevent his body from rejecting the transplant.

For three years, I was the one who carefully administered those drops. I was his nurse, his maid, his crutch.

He thought he could throw me away and keep the pieces of me he still needed.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Israel pressed a hot, lingering kiss to my bare shoulder.

"Is the trash still trying to contact you?" he murmured.

"He wants his eye drops," I replied softly.

Israel’s dark eyes flashed with a dangerous, protective light. "Say the word, and I will have my men burn that house to the ground with him inside it."

"No," I whispered, turning to cup his strong, aristocratic jaw. "I want to finish this my way. I want to give him exactly what he is asking for."

An hour later, I stood on the porch of my old house. The house was a disaster. Takeout boxes littered the glass coffee table. The air smelled stale and sour.

I walked silently into the living room. Nathan was sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep. He looked exhausted, pale, and miserable. His eyelids were red and swollen.

I stood over him. I felt absolutely nothing. No pity. No love. Just a hollow, echoing emptiness where my heart used to break for him.

I walked into the kitchen. His expensive, prescribed eye drops were sitting on the marble counter, right where I always left them.

I unscrewed the cap of his medication. I opened the glass vial Israel had given me. I poured the clear, odorless liquid directly into Nathan's bottle.

I swirled it gently, watching the liquids mix into a perfect, deadly cocktail.

I placed the bottle back on the counter.

"You said my empty eyes made you nauseous," I whispered into the quiet kitchen. "Let's see how you survive the dark."

I walked out the front door, locking it behind me.

Israel was waiting in the Maybach. I climbed into the backseat and melted into his embrace as the car pulled away.

Back inside the house, Nathan woke up. He rubbed his burning, aching eyes and stumbled into the kitchen. He squeezed two drops into his right eye. Then two drops into his left.

He blinked.

A second passed. Then two.

Nathan dropped the bottle. It clattered against the hardwood floor.

He blinked frantically, clawing at his face as the heavy, permanent dark set in.

"Taylor!" A blood-curdling scream of pure, unadulterated terror ripped from his throat, echoing through the empty house. "Taylor! I can't see! I can't see anything!"