Page 58 of His Son's Wife
But I hoped Helena’s soul would finally be at peace.
???
The police left swiftly as promised—and surprisingly Sayla was fine. She still held my hand but she was more pensive than upset.
“Good riddance,” she muttered.
The no-fault divorce could be pushed through now and she would be free for approximately three days.
I’d sourced the rarest of rare diamonds—a perfect blue diamond from Western Australia, reset and waiting to be placed on her finger.
Her old rings were locked in my drawer.
She’d been glad to see the back of them.
I kept them there as a reminder of what wickedness does to the soul. A cautionary tale that kept me from becoming completely deranged with Sayla.
I’d already created a beekeeping account.
She sighed and I raised her hand to kiss those bare fingers.
The sparkling blue stone would be stunning on her.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.
But of course she did.
It was in the plan that I’d set out nearly two years ago.
Chapter 28
Sayla
“Not only did you bang the old man, but he managed to knock you up,” Maya said, reaching for a mini red velvet cupcake.
She bit into it and nodded toward my hand, barely swallowing before she began talking again.
“How much do you think it’s worth?”
I stuck my hand out and wiggled my fingers.
“He said it was a tenner, but methinks he lyeth,” I mused.
“Is that old man talk? Because I can’t understand it,” she said, popping the rest of the cake into her mouth.
“Never mind me. I’m about to get married twice and you still haven’t married Callum.”
“Eh,” she shrugged.“It keeps him on his toes.”
She raised her teacup, pinkie extended, and slurped extremely loudly.
My mother glared. Dad shook his head. Elias was too busy stuffing his face—even at nineteen he insisted he was a growing boy.
Daddy glanced at Maya—just once, briefly—before his gaze found mine. They had a complicated love-hate dynamic already forming, the kind that only worked between people who recognised a similar stubbornness in each other. The heat behind his eyes told me he was willing to endure a great deal from my allegedly demonic older sister. Across the table Callum grinned with the quiet pride of a man who finally had someone else to share the burden.
“God. She’s already pregnant,” Maya muttered. Then louder—“You can’t get her any more pregnant than she already is.”
Her attention dropped to my belly. I rested my hand over it instinctively. Twelve weeks. Barely showing. Maya was acting like I was ready to drop at any moment, which was either love or chaos—with her it was usually both.
