Raymond escorted Georgia into the luxury suite at the five-star hotel like they were just another happy couple checking in after a long trip.
The bellhop barely had ti to leave before Raymond was already ordering room service—steak, wine, and everything he thought she’d like, despite Georgia flatly refusing to eat.
As soon as the food arrived, Raymond snapped his fingers, and the guards quietly slipped out, shutting the door behind them.
He removed his watch, tossed it onto the counter along with his rings, then began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate ease. Slowly, he stepped toward her like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just kidnapped her in broad daylight with ard n.
"Hon," he said, voice soft and strangely cheerful, "I’ll go prepare you a bath. You want it warm, yeah?"
"Don’t," Georgia muttered, her tone low and sharp. "Don’t talk to . Just leave alone."
She folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them, needing a mont to breathe... to think. But Raymond wasn’t having it.
He ca closer and was about to hug her from behind, his bare chest inches from her back, and gently brushed aside the strands of her hair that had fallen over her nape.
The mont his fingers grazed her skin, he froze.
"The fuck, Georgia?" he snarled.
Georgia’s eyes shot open as she realized what he saw... the kiss marks.
The red fresh marks from yesterday trail along her spine and shoulder blade, remnants of Nick’s touch, once hidden by makeup, now visible after hours of sweat and saltwater.
She shot up from her seat and backed away, heart pounding.
Raymond’s face twisted with rage, the calm cracking.
"I tried to ignore it," he growled, voice rising with every word. "That goddamn wedding arch. That dress. That priest. I told myself it wasn’t what it looked like. That you hadn’t actually ant it."
He slamd his fist against the table, rattling the silverware. "But this? These fucking marks? Did he touch you? Did he fuck you on that goddamn island?!"
His voice thundered through the suite, venomous and wild. Georgia stared at him, trembling—but not from fear.
From fury.
From heartbreak.
And from the fire burning inside her, knowing exactly who she’d choose again, and again, and again.
Georgia swallowed hard. Her chest rose with a trembling breath as she straightened her back, lifting her chin with defiance burning in her eyes.
"He did," she said, her voice cool, clipped, and cutting through the tension like a blade.
Raymond’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his rage from erupting. "Did he force you?" he asked, barely containing the tremor in his voice.
Georgia t his gaze, unflinching, unwavering. "No," she said, her voice steady. "He didn’t force ."
She took another breath, deeper this ti, and when she spoke again, it was with fierce conviction, like every word was fire dragged from her soul.
"I let him touch . I let him fuck until my legs gave out beneath . I let him mark , claim . And I loved every second he was inside , filling , owning . I craved him... still do. Even now, I still think of him."
The room went deathly silent.
*SLAP*
The sound cracked through the air, sharp and violent.
Georgia’s head turned from the impact. Her hand slowly rose to her cheek, where the sting blood red-hot. Her tears fell, but her expression was hollow. No sobs. No fear. Just silence.
Raymond’s face paled. Horror replaced rage in his eyes as he staggered forward and pulled her into his arms.
"Fuck. Goddammit, Georgia... I’m sorry, I didn’t an to," he whispered in a desperate panic, his arms trembling around her. "I got overwheld... please, love, I’m sorry.
I didn’t an to hurt you. Just tell you didn’t an it. Tell you said all that just to make angry, to get even with . To make jealous. Please..."
But Georgia stood still in his embrace, unyielding, unmoved.
Because the man she was thinking about wasn’t the one holding her, and that man wouldn’t hurt her like this.
"Fuck you, Raymond..." Georgia’s voice was low, steady, but every word cut like glass. She made sure he heard her. "Fuck you and Nancy. Both of you can rot in hell."
And with a fierce shove, she pushed him off her, sending him stumbling a few steps back.
Raymond’s eyes widened, his expression twisted between guilt and disbelief. "Hon, I told you, I was drunk that night! I didn’t even know it was Nancy, I swear!" He reached for her again, desperate, but Georgia slapped his hands away like they were poison.
"Really?" Her voice cracked, filled with fury and grief. "Did you also not know that she was the one who pushed off the ship? Maybe it was an accident, but I was screaming for help, Raymond!
I was clinging to life while that witch just stood there... and watched. She didn’t move. She let drown in that freezing, pitch-black sea!"
Tears stread down her cheeks, but there was nothing weak in her now. She was fire and storm.
"Oh God... love, I didn’t know," Raymond said, his voice trembling. "If I had... if I had known, I would’ve co for you. I swear I would’ve saved you."
But Georgia was already done with his lies. Ella had told her the truth. Every dirty secret. Every betrayal he had committed after she went missing.
"You don’t need to save , Raymond. I’ve already saved myself," she snapped, stepping away from him and storming toward the door.
He grabbed her wrist before she could leave.
"And where the hell do you think you’re going?" he growled, his voice now edged with sothing darker—sothing possessive.
"Away from you," she hissed, yanking her arm, but his grip only tightened.
"Go to Nancy! Be with her. What do you even want from ? I have nothing left to give you—she has everything! Marry her, for all I care! A cheating bastard like you deserves a murdering bitch like her. Go fuck each other until your souls rot. Just—leave. . Alone!"
Her chest heaved as she glared at him, burning with hatred, heartbreak, and raw strength.
And for the first ti... Raymond saw it.
He hadn’t just lost her.
He’d created the woman who would never let him near her again.
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