Page 146 of Symphony for Lies

Ryan looked stunned. “What?”

“Calculate how much she’s already paid and return it to her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s my wife.”

He scoffed, “You’re twenty-six and very much unmarried. Try again.”

A smirk curled on my lips. “Our order of things is… complicated.”

Ryan’s expression twisted into almost genuine concern. “You know, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

If he knew half the thoughts that crossed my mind, if he knew the things I wanted to do to Amelia, he’d be fucking terrified.

The idea of locking her away, keeping her forever, had crossed my mind too many times.

She wanted her own space.

I hated it.

I wanted to tear down every wall between us.

The only thing that kept me from doing it was knowing that she was already bound to me in ways she hadn’t even realized yet.

Ryan muttered something under his breath and left, shaking his head as he slammed the door.

I let my mind slip back… to her.

Three years prior, I vowed to never perform for my mother again. She forced me into music the same way she tried to push Simon, and I had only continued playing to keep her off his back.

I despised the violin.

I hated the song she always demanded—the one that symbolized the beauty of life.

It wasn’t beautiful. It was a fucking curse, born into a family that controlled every move you made, even the way you breathed.

That night was supposed to be my last performance.

Just one last song. Then I’ll disappear forever.

I stepped onto the stage, staring at a sea of people with polished, vacant expressions.

I was searching, always searching for something.

And then, I saw her.

I didn’t know her name. But the way she looked at me…

Everyone in the audience smiled, nodding along to the melody, convinced it was full of warmth. But she saw the lie. She saw the darkness in every note.

Something grew inside my heart that I couldn’t quite understand at the time.

It made me curious, so I kept playing.

I searched for her in every crowd, every performance. When she wasn’t there, the music was meaningless.

And Tristan noticed.