Til' Death Do Us Part ✅

Chapter 3

Greg

My vision became dark and wetness covered my face. It was warm and the smell of metallic burned my nose. My hand was still in the air moving up and down. Something felt wrong so I willed my arm to stop and I fell back.

"Juliette?"

I wiped the thick substance from my face. As the moonlight shown brighter through the French doors, it's rays casted an iridescent glow upon her lifeless body. She was covered in blood and her hair was wild and tangled. Looking at my hand it was drenched in her blood along with the knife that my fingers were still wrapped around. I crawled back not believing what I saw.

Her head was twisted abnormally and her eyes stared straight at me. She looked pale. Blood continued to drain from the openings in her body.

I had to kill her. I had taken money from the restaurant and out of her accounts and now the FBI were coming for me. If she found out she would expose me. She was a Miss Goody Two Shoes, always had to do the right thing.

When we met, I was working as a real estate agent for a friend of mine. He had extra tickets to the Black and White charity ball so I attended in his place. I remember her talking to some friends where I stepped in and introduced myself. We hit it off and after doing some research I found out her parents were in the upper echelon of the New Orleans elite not only in the city but in the country. Everything they controlled prospered. I knew I didn't have the money to compete but I could bring my charm and gentleman qualities.

We were good together and having the right connections made things simpler. When I proposed, I had asked her father for her hand but he was against it so I had to work the charm and months later he finally gave his permission.

After marrying her, money was raining in. With two successful restaurants, a huge trust fund and social status, I had risen on the social ladder. In doing so, I went in business for myself and had focused on new residential housing communities. About six months ago my buddy Harry had some property that was covered in swamp. It wasn't deep and a contractor told us that it wouldn't expand but since it flooded two months ago the water has been making the foundations sink. I had a five million dollar investment and now clients wanted their money back. Unfortunately the housing market has been slow so I've spend over eighty percent of it.

The only way to get that kind of money was to kill Juliette and cash in her ten million dollar life insurance policy. The policy was huge because she wanted the restaurants to stay afloat, and pay off our debts if something was to happen to one of us.

I had been tipped off that the FBI were coming so I decided tonight would be the best time to orchestra my plan. She knew I was in Baton Rouge. I had called her from the hotel I was in and left the number. I knew she turned off her phone before she went to bed so around midnight I had called her cell instead of the house phone.

I got in my rental car and drove to New Orleans. It had started raining really hard, with lighting and thunder cracking in the air. We were in the middle of hurricane season so one could have been coming. When I got to the house, I cut the alarm wire and left my shoes and bag at the backdoor. I figured the alarm company was probably getting bombarded with all kinds of calls.

I had eased in the house through the back door like a burglar and had worn all black to blend in with the background. Juliette always slept in darkness. I climbed up the stairs slowly with the butcher knife I had purchased a few days ago. I turned the knob, walked in and locked the door. She was sleeping peacefully as the rain had almost come to a stop. She stirred a little until I walked up on her. She was still beautiful as the first time I met her.

Her hair was in her eyes and her lips were ajar a little letting me know she was indeed sleep. The closer I got, the more I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice.

As I stared at her, she woke up. She seemed a little disoriented until she realized she saw someone. She looked up as I had the knife in my hand and screamed. We began to wrestle until she finally fell out of my grip. She crawled until she made it to the door. Trying to open it she couldn't as it was locked. She tried to scream and get away but I tossed her against the wall.

"Greg?" She called out which caught me off guard. I drug her and she held onto the bed but I stabbed her arm so she would break free. She screamed where I finally had to slit her throat to shut her up. I heard her screams in my head and that's when I lost control.

Guilt began to take over. I had never killed anybody before. My wife of less than two years laid in a puddle of her own blood and I was the one to do it. I started crying. I touched her warm hand as her eyes never left mine.

I knew I needed to get back to Baton Rouge. I couldn't afford to get caught. I took the key and unlocked the door. I grabbed the knife off the floor moving her body with the door. I closed it and headed out the back door. I took the water hose and washed the blood off. Grabbing clothes out my bag I had left at the door I changed. I jumped in my car and headed back to Baton Rouge. On the way out the city, I stopped and threw the knife and key in the spillway.

Around six am I tried calling Juliette. I knew she wouldn't answer but I had to play it off. I left about five messages on the house machine and a few at both restaurants. I even texted her several times, tried face timing her and left voicemails on her phone. I called her mother.

"Hello son," she said.

"Corrine, have you spoken to Juliette this morning? She won't answer her phone or return any of my messages."

"I haven't spoken to her since yesterday before she left for work last night."

"I'm worried Corrine. She always answers."

"I will stop by the house. I will call you back or have her call you, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks Corrine." We hung up and I sat back and waited to play the unsuspecting widowed husband.