Chapter 40. Tristan Draven

Calla couldn’t believe it. Even in death, Tristan wouldn’t leave her alone.

When she was trapped in that restroom with him, and Rico came, driving that knife deep into his jaw, her shoulders dropped. Not entirely because the scene was too gruesome but because she felt relieved and free, like a huge invisible weight was lifted. She was relieved she wouldn’t have to continue living in fear.

When Tristan found her at that gala, she knew he wouldn’t let her go. She’d managed to escape him all these years.

“I… can’t,” she finally admitted in a murmur, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked at Rico and his face with set straight, bored. But she didn’t miss the flexing of his jaw. He was angry again, angry at her refusal.

He strides forward, his eyes locked on hers. Calla’s breath hitched, and instinctively, she moved backwards.

“One thing you seem to be forgetting is that I paid for you,” he started. His steps were not rushed, he took his sweet time to tort