WHO KILLED VICTORIA? | Complete

Chapter Forty Three | He Came

Samuel's POV

10 Days Until Victoria's Death...

Ten days passed before I thought about seeing Victoria's face again. The last time I went over, it wasn't very pleasant, covering up a murder yet again—a murder she so perfectly planned. It was quite sad to fall in love with a queen because she was the queen of heaven when we met, a girl so pure and so unique, and now she's Hell's Lilith and the mother of my child. I couldn't bring myself to hate her anymore. I must admit to myself that her plan is good, and it is what we had planned at first, but I am an idiot who allowed himself to fall in love with her best friend, a girl who took me in and cared for me when I felt abandoned, even though I knew what Victoria was planning.

"Go to their house, act like you're on their side, and report back to me so we have more intel," but I never did. Weeks passed before I even thought about talking to her again, and I have no excuse. I was simply a man falling in love with what he thought was the definition of peace. But Isabella wasn't peace any longer. I had my little raindrops of heaven before the cloud finally steered clear, and the sky shone once again. Only this time, it was red and ugly, not a sliver of blue to be found anywhere. I got out of bed and brushed my teeth. I finally decided that today was the day it all ends. I am going to go to Victoria's house and fix it all, tell her that I'm in on her plan and that I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep this baby safe—our baby.

I stood up and finally opened my eyes to realize who was standing there. Leaning on the door so casually with the biggest smile on his face, a smile that I wanted to rip off but weirdly enough now I missed. "Damian," I said, smiling like a kid who finally got his toy back. "Where did you go?"

He walked into the room with the same egotistic walk he always had, a walk I weirdly missed now. "My stepsister died. You think I'm stupid enough to stay in the country after that?" My face tensed, shocked, confusion clear as day written in bold letters all across my forehead.

"What do you mean 'died'?" I tried to play dumb, but he wasn't having it.

"Don't," he giggled. "I know it wasn't you." He came closer and gave me a small pat on my shoulder.

"But how do you know?" I asked again, only this time more firmly to get the answers I wanted.

"I followed you to the mountain to congratulate her, but you two were having a moment, so I didn't want to disturb. I stood there, waiting till your little fuck session finished so I could go over and give her my congratulations in order. Then she went up to piss, so as I went over to talk to her..." He turned to look at the floor. "You know what happened." I could feel his pain, fighting eagerly not to come out and cry. One thing I learned about living with Damian is that he stares at the floor and smiles when he feels like he is about to cry, and now he was doing just that. I took him in and gave him a hug, a shoulder to cry on.

"It's okay," I cried. "I got you now." No words were exchanged after that. He simply cried on my shoulder as I stared at the wall behind him. I saw a black jacket and black pants hanging there, and I couldn't help but think he came back because he felt guilty. I always thought it was Victoria who pushed Isabella over, but what if I'm throwing blame on the wrong person here? What if it was Damian who shoved his sister off of the mountain because he was so jealous that she was falling in love with someone else when his lover departed?

It wasn't his fault Christina died, but in a way, it was Isabella's because she was the one who hinted for her to go to Victoria's or at least drove her mad enough to go. Could Damian have followed Victoria and me to bury Christina's body as well?

I thought long and hard but found no answer to any of my questions. So I decided to let him cry for as long as he needed until I made up my mind because my thoughts aren't helping me right now. If there was a chance I could be wrong about this, then I need to be there for him because he lost his sister and his lover at the same time, and he is the one getting fingers pointed at him if the public ever found out. For now, Isabella was just the whore who ran away with her stepbrother, and I bet she wishes she was a whore right about now because it would still be better than getting tossed down a mountain on the day her dream came true. I let Damian rest on the bed next to me and covered him with a blanket.

"Samuel," he grabbed my arm before I left the room. "Please forgive me." My heart beat faster.

"Of course," I smiled. "Forgive you for what?" I tried, but he had already passed out.

I walked out of the room and sat down on the patio outside the house. It's crazy how money and wealth mean absolutely nothing if there is no happiness in your life. Here I was—a boy who came out of an abusive household and a shitty childhood, and now I was sitting on the richest man's patio, looking at a Lamborghini and a bunch of other supercars that I can't even spell—and I was fucking depressed.

I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and lit it up, exchanging a sip that brought me closer to death only to feel better about myself for half a second, but honestly, I needed every second I could take so I wouldn't end my own life. I let myself drown in my sorrows until the cigarette finished. Looking up at the dark sky and reminiscing about everything that's been going on, I couldn't think of a reason why I should stay here on this earth. What good am I to people? But then I pictured the little baby, and joy came flooding into my soul, replenishing it. And that's when I knew it's about time I go over and forgive Victoria, take her, and get the fuck out of Rivervine so we can start our lives together again.

I got up to go inside and put a shirt on so I could go to Victoria's, and there was a note at the door. I knelt down to grab it, baffled as I opened it.

I'm so sorry.

I threw the note on the floor and sprinted to the room, and that's when I saw him.

Damian.

Hanging from the ceiling.

Dead.

I crumbled at the sight of him, cried tears of pain, but I couldn't go near the body or touch it because I couldn't risk getting prosecuted for this crime. I wiped my tears, grabbed my shirt, and left the house unnoticed with only one thought getting me through this.

He killed her.

He did this to himself.