Page 101 of Vicious Kingdom

I need proof.Proof that I could trust her.

Leaving her slumbering form for only a moment to collect her laptop from the guest bedroom, I powered it up. The eerie, digital glow mocked me with a password. The hint was the name of a terrible beverage.

Frowning, I almost gave up.

But then an idea popped from the void.

“No…that’s too easy.” But it worked.

Americano

The nickname she’d given me. This woman said she’d chosen me, and it seemed that choice was part of her being.

Pushing away the shock from the revelation, I began snooping.

There was nothing damning in her inbox. Quite the contrary.

She’s still writing.

Her editor sent a message confirming the delay of one week for the next manuscript and ending the email with a note of congratulations on her wedding.

I scoured her laptop for the books. But they weren’t in the cloud drive nor in the computer files.

There had to be something. If there was a smoking gun, I would find it. I adjusted the computer’s position and aimed to uncover everything I could. Knowing there was no concrete evidence of betrayal, the anticipation of a breath-stealing blow still kept me on edge. It was too risky to rely on the absence of proof. I needed some way to see it all. I needed to know who she met with and what she did. Only then could I begin to believe.

“What? Believe that she’ll never lie to me again?” I muttered.

Giving up, and knowing that there was nothing nefarious there, I put the laptop away.

Before zipping the case, I planted one of the tracking devices my brother had given me in its innermost padding. The thin disc would allow me to track its movements. Several more airtags lay pulsing in my pocket. I took them with me, a guilty shiver racing up my spine.

I went to the closet and knelt in front of her side. I slipped the other devices in the soles of her shoes. The plan was devious, slightly monstrous, but it would give me all the answers. It would tell me everything I needed to trust her. Would her loyalty still ring true if I really knew where she went and who she saw?Or would I go mad following her every move, waiting for her to betray me, when in fact she had no intention to?

Still restless and unable to sit still, I ventured to the kitchen for a drink of water. If I had to learn to trust my wife, I needed to mend the bridge. Just one small gesture on my part.

Maybe then she’ll look at me again.

Abandoning the water, I brewed a fresh cup of strong coffee and let the steam rise to clear my head. While the need to make sure she didn’t stab me in the back was strong, the desire to do something that would make her smile was equally as vibrant. The bitter sip took the edge off my nervous energy, but it didn’t diminish my need to know. At the kitchen table, I opened my laptop and pulled up the survey. I read through the information my secretary had gathered, studied each response, each line of text, with the scrutiny it would have taken a bloodhound to pick up the scent. How hard could it be, really? In principle, the answer should have been simple.

“This is madness,” I mumbled, but already my hands were pulling out a large glass cereal bowl. The insanity gripped me with manic urgency. I didn’t have the proper kitchen equipment. But I was willing to try anything once. I was ready to go all in. A tear in the defenses I’d built so high compelled me to take the leap, to make the sweet treat I knew she would need when she woke up. After contacting a delivery service, I soon had what I needed.

It was a small—probably stupid—gesture, but it was something.

Chapter 36 – Annaliese

Icrept downstairs. The smell of something stale lingered in the air. Something unnatural had happened. It made my already booze-stained insides churn. Holding back a gag, I padded into the kitchen.

Leo sat at the island, tapping on his laptop. Sunlight from the normally magnificent view blinded me. I winced but managed to give him a wave.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

His volume was soft, but it might as well be kettle drums to my lush-soaked brain.

“There’s breakfast on the counter.” He pointed.

The source of the smell. It appeared to be of a chocolate nature. It didn’t smell burnt enough to be that dark in color. I inched closer. Taking the knife, I sawed through a dense corner of the square pan.

Already, I knew it wouldn’t be tasty.