Jack's POV
The hotel doors slammed shut behind me, but the fire in my heart didn't fade. I'd finally done it, after ten long years, my revenge was complete. I should've felt satisfied. Triumphant. Free.
Instead, my hands trembled, my heart twisted in knots, and all I could taste was the bitter sting of memory. Fresh, like it's happening already.
It didn't stop, the same heart trenching pounding of my heart, the same magnitude of anguish, only different now because Emma was long dead. Buried. Forgotten by the world. But not by me.
I bit the lower part of my lips, looking out through the window. The busy activities reflected the intensity of the grief buried in my heart.
I already ordered the guards on what to do, and soon I could only picture him floating on the shores of the sea, the same way I was told Emma had died.
Clenching my fingers into fists, I forced my heart to settle on the reality before me.
Tonight mattered.
Catherine's birthday.
