MARRIED ACCIDENTALLY

CHAPTER 60

Vince’s POV

The second I open my eyes, I see Annette sleeping beside me, and my mind starts racing.

She looks beautiful as she sleeps. And peaceful.

The bruises on her face are red already, and I feel the urge to apply some ointment for her.

When I try to move, I realize her head is on my arm.

Slowly, I extricate my hand but she tosses in bed, making me lay back.
She goes still and her breathing becomes even again.

I thought she would be gone by the time I'd be awake, but here she is, sleeping next to me like everything is fine between us.

She turns, her hand grabbing my arm more firmly as if to stop me from running off.

A smile touches my lips unconsciously, and I lift my face to stare at her face.

Her mouth opens slightly, making me feel the temptation to kiss her lips. She closes it and opens it back almost immediately.

I find myself moving my head closer to her slightly open mouth as her breath skims my face, sending a thrill over me.

“Vince!” She whispers, loud enough for me to grab. She turns again and shuts her mouth.

When she mutters, “Vince” again, my eyes bulge wide open in surprise.

Did she just call my name from sleep? Is she having a dream about me?

Before I can think of an answer to the question racing through my head, her mouth moves again, and I shift closer, my ears just an inch from her mouth.

“Don't go. Vince, don't go. Please.”
My body freezes.

Then I feel a touch. But I can't react to the touch, not when I am in shock.

“Vince,” she cries again, grabbing my arm and resting her head on my arm.

Again, I am torn by the emotions crashing through me. I have tried to comprehend her reasons for what she has been doing and her reasons for wanting an annulment, and I came to one conclusion: she doesn't like me.

That's what I thought but now I don't want to believe that it.

Fernando said she might never love me, and I believe him the moment she told me she wanted an annulment.

Still, I was hoping.

Hoping she would feel something for me, too. Hoping we could work things out.

I can't tie the two sides of Ann. Sometimes, she makes me think she feels the same way, and other times, she makes me feel she doesn't.

I turn to stare at her beautiful bruised face, only to freeze again.
Her eyes are open, and she is watching me.

Quickly, I move away, sitting upright and resting my head on the headboard to avoid her gaze. My heart is pounding hard in my ribcage.

After a moment of silence, she sits up, too, and I can see her watching me from her peripheral view.

“Are you okay?” She asks with a concerned, filled tone.

The tone sends a jolt through me.
I nod without staring at her.

Then, I step down from the bed to grab the first aid box. She refused to be treated last night so I should do it now.

As soon as I get up, pain shoots through me from my shoulder, reminding me all about last night.

Nadir is a jerk!

I pick up the first aid box and walk back to the bed. She is staring with curiosity, and when she sees the first aid box, realization dawns on her.

I open the box with my unhurt hand and apply some ointment on her face.

The silence is awkward and, at the same time assuring.

Having her here makes me feel alive.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” I ask, still avoiding her face.

When she doesn't answer, I lift my head to meet her intense gaze.

Slowly, she shakes her head and replies softly. “I'm fine.”

That didn't come out convincing. I peer at her closely. “Are you sure?”
She nods.

My gaze flickers to her hands and legs and finally settles on her stomach.

Her stomach isn't exposed, but I am desperate to see it.

I saw that bloody idiot kicking her everywhere, even in the stomach. I have a feeling she's just trying to hide that from me without knowing I saw everything.

Before I can say anything, she gets up, and a groan leaves her mouth. I see her grabbing her stomach, and it finally dawns.

My suspicions are correct.

“You should see a doctor, Annette. I know you are hurt and…”

“Let's go,” she interrupts me from going further. “Take me to Isaac.”
Isaac Rossi.

Yeah. I almost forgot that the monster is still breathing.

When the anger from last night rushes deep into me, I find myself dropping the ointment back into the box, closing it, and walking to the door.

Annette follows without a word.
In silence, we walk until I stop at the door. Ann and I exchange glances, and she says. “Give me the honors…”

“Kill him!” I say with a tone of authority.

She doesn't look shaken, scared, or surprised like I thought she would. Instead, she nods her head vigorously, with a sense of courage.

“That's what I want. I need a gun.” She stretches her hand to me, demanding a gun with bravery.

I know what I saw in her when I told her to be my queen. If she could eliminate every fear of what someone would do to her, she would make a great queen, and I believe the death of Isaac would be the beginning for her.

But then, I know she won't stay. She was serious when she asked for a divorce. And that I will grant her now that everything is resolved.

She doesn't need to be scared of anyone anymore.

Isaac, Mark, and Carter. They will never hurt her again.

I point to the door, and she pulls it open. As soon as we venture in, Isaac's bloody face comes into view.

One of his eyes is almost closing from a serious beating.

That is what this room is for.
Death but torture first.

Derrick and Caleb get up from where they are sitting, moving close to my neatly arranged weapons of torture.

I signal to them to halt.

I am not here to do anything but to watch Ann drive the bullets into his skull. There is no point waiting, no point torturing anymore.

Isaac struggles, shouting his lungs out at Ann, who doesn't look scared at all.

She stretches a hand at Derrick, who is holding a pistol. He spares me a quick glance before giving it to her.

Without warning, she pulls the trigger, blasting Isaac's hands off. A scream from him pierces the air.

Then she moves to the right and blasts off his five fingers, too, earning another painful scream from him.

A smirk leaves the corner of my lips.

Annette moves back, sucking her lower lip, and for a moment, I think I see her hands trembling.
She shoots his two feet and finally points the bullet to his forehead.

“So much for being my stepfather,” she mutters with a sly smile. “Goodbye Stepfather.”

And with that, she drives the bullet into his skull, shooting till the bullets are exhausted.

She pants, closes her eyes, and opens them again.

When she turns to me, we stare at each other for a moment before she rushes out of the torture room.