Page 129 of Cruel Pleasures

“If you were loved and then that love went away, you’d do anything to get it back,” she says. “You’d do anything to make him love you again. And he did love me. He did… he did!”

“Does it even matter at this point?”

“It was real. The love we shared. But can you believe he didn’t want me anymore? I gave him his heir. His son. But things were different after Kaden. He was drifting away. He didn’t want me anymore…”

“With who? Who was the other woman?”

“Some broke saxophone player he met in a jazz club,” she spits. “She played for him like I played for him… and he fell in love. He didn’t want me anymore, but he wanted her.”

“So you had Archer? You got pregnant hoping it would change things?” I say slowly.

“He was furious with me. He said he wanted nothing to do with us. He turned me away. Our home was no longer mine. Archer and I… we came here. To my family’s estate. I tried so hard, so long to make him love me again.”

“Including trying to murder your own son?”

She grunts out a short laugh. “Did you know he made me swear never to tell him? Or his brother. But I found ways to put them together. I sent Archer to the same boarding school. I tried to reach out to Kaden. But he would never let me. You see, he blamed me for what happened with her. Her death.”

“The other woman?”

“He said it should’ve been me,” she whispers. “As if I could’ve changed things. Her own daughter murdered her in cold blood!”

“You can’t mean… that can’t be true...” I shake my head, disturbed to my core.

“Dmitri loved me once. But then he didn’t want me. Do you know how that feels?”

It’s like she’s short-circuiting, taking us in circles as her expression goes vacant. I can tell she’s had these thoughts many times before. She’s spent who knows how long pondering these things to anyone who would listen. Maybe even to no one but herself.

She turns toward one of the mirrors and then winces as if wounded by the reflection she sees.

“He ruined everything. Then they ruined everything. Now you’re here to ruin everything. All of you have ruined my life!” she screams, bluish green veins protruding in her thin neck.

“Actually, it sounds like Dmitri ruined your life. He’s a total asshole who you seem to be delusional about?—”

“But I’ll fix things,” she goes on. Her pale complexion glows in a feverish manner that’s almost sickly. “You’ll help me. You’ll draw them out. They’ve been watching. I know they have. Then I’ll have him back. He’ll be mine again.”

“You really are crazy.”

She wanders over to the hand mirror on the vanity table and picks it up to admire her face. Her features flatten as if repulsed by what she sees. “I suppose I made mistakes. I suppose I didn’t… I wasn’t there for… my boys. It damaged them.”

“This is insanity. Everything you’ve said. Tell me how to get out of here. I’ve heard enough.”

“Wake up, you foolish twit. There is no escape. There is no running from any of this. You came here for answers, and I’ve given them to you. Your dear sweet friend, so close like a sister, was a hideous, violent, deranged monster. Just like me.”

The Hostess slams the handheld mirror against the vanity table. The glass cracks down the center in the shape of a lightning bolt. She grabs hold of the biggest shard and then dives at me. I’m a split second faster. I throw myself out of the way, managing to avoid the slice of the glass.

But she doesn’t stop trying. She rushes at me a second, then third and fourth time.

With each attempt I’m left ducking and dodging, fending her off. My fingers snap shut around her wrists as she tries to jam the shard down toward me. We stumble together and knock straight into one of the mirrored walls.

It shatters around us in a deluge of more sharp, broken glass.

Neither of us manages to withstand the storm falling down. Pain radiates through me as glass slices my skin and blood seeps out. I bear the pain, biting hard on the inside of my cheek, and pour every bit of strength I have into fighting off the Hostess.

The moment feels nightmarish and never ending. Warped, as our rolling reflections stare back at us in the mirrors remaining intact.

Then, at the feverish height of our scuffle, I sense someone else’s presence. Not Archer or Ryu. Not any of the other club members or even some random remaining player.

It’s a woman.