He reached for the nipple clamps and held them above my head. My eyes widened. What the fuck? That wasn’t going to make them feel better.

“Don’t do that,” Stewart reprimanded. “You don’t ever need to look at me with fear. I’m not going to put these back on, not today.” He sucked each nipple. “I’ll admit, once I realized the clamps hadn’t been removed, I wanted to see your eyes as he took them off. I wanted to know exactly what you were feeling. I miss that with your eyes covered. I miss seeing your thoughts.”

If he only fucking knew my thoughts.

Though he tenderly caressed my breasts, the soreness of my nipples rippled through me. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out.

“That must feel invigorating, as the blood rushes back and your nipples fill.”

Invigorating? It hurt like hell. That was why my mascara was smeared. I could stop the tears from the humiliation—I’d learned to do that. However, sometimes stopping the tears from physical pain wasn’t possible.

The bed shifted as Stewart stood. “I’m so proud of you, baby. This was an important friend and he wants to visit again. You don’t know how happy that makes me. We want to keep our friends happy, don’t we?”

Was this a time he wanted an answer? Because if he did, my answer was fuck no! His friends can find their fucking happy place somewhere else.

As Stewart removed his clothes, he said, “I’m over dressed for my gorgeous wife. I mean look at you. Your pussy is still hungry. I love watching you come. You’re going to do it again, and this time when you do, you’re going to scream my fucking name. Will you do that for me, Tori? Will you scream your husband’s name?”

I fucking hate you! “Yes, Stewart, I’ll scream your name.”

He held his hard cock in both hands. Getting back on the bed, he kneeled near my face and ran one hand up and down the length. “Oh, darling, I’m going to fuck that wet pussy until you do just that, until you scream my name, but I’m not coming inside of you, not this time. I’m going to fucking come on those sexy tits of yours. Then I’m going to watch as you rub my come around those nipples.” He leaned closer, nuzzling his nose against my neck. “See, baby, I promised I’d make them feel better. There’s nothing like some of your husband’s come to cure all your pain. Isn’t that right?” He smeared the glistening fluid from the head of his cock over my lips. “Lick your lips, Tori, let me see that tongue.”

I did as he said. His unique, salty flavor helped me forget the taste of his special friend. I hated this, yet I wanted more—more to take away the friend. Stewart had done this to me, made me this way. I hated him, but somehow needed him.

“Oh, fuck,” he continued, “now I can’t decide if I want to fuck your mouth or your pussy. So many choices.” Again, he teased my lips. “Open wide, I’m going to start with your pretty little lips. You did a good job with our friend. Every time you swallow, I get hard.”

He knelt over my face and reached above me on the headboard. I opened my mouth and moved my chin upward, to accommodate his length.

“So fucking good.” He moved in and out; his familiar scent loosened my muscles and involuntarily caused my body to react. Wanting this over, I sucked harder.

“Baby, not so greedy. You don’t want to make me come yet. That pussy of yours wants a turn.”

“Vik?”

I opened my eyes and turned toward my sister. “What?”

“I was talking and you were totally zoned out.”

“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

No, I didn’t fucking feel bad that Stewart was dead or that he suffered. I didn’t give a damn what Travis said. Stewart deserved every minute of pain and agony. When the fucking door closes on this vault, I will secretly rejoice. And if there were people who thought they could get me back in that position, well, they didn’t know the real Victoria Harrington.

The real Victoria Harrington was not a whore. As I looked down at my black dress, black nylons, black shoes, and black purse, I straightened my shoulders and felt the weight of the large brimmed black hat. No, I was a fucking widow—a black widow—I wouldn’t go back without a fight.

Unconsciously, the corner of my lip rose. As it did, I caught Travis’ eyes in the rearview mirror. Did he know? He seemed to know so much. Did he know I was a killer?

“Vik? Hello?”

I looked toward my sister and sighed. “Val, I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not fine. You’re overwrought. I’m coming home with you. I don’t have to be back to the hospital until tomorrow evening. I’m staying. I’m also getting you a script for Ambien, the kind that not only helps you fall asleep but stay asleep.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want that. I wanted to talk to Parker. I needed to know why he possibly thought I’d sign those papers. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I huffed and tilted my head toward the front of the car. “I already have one and don’t forget Lisa and Kristina. I think the position is well covered.” I reached for her hand and squeezed. “I’d love to spend time with you, but I just want to go home and get away from all of these people.” The car turned into the cemetery and toward the columbarium.

“Are you going to stay at the penthouse, or go out to the estate?” she asked.

“Honestly, I haven’t given it that much thought. For now, I’ll be at the apartment.”