Chapter 42

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May 12, 2001

Because of Love.

William threw the stupid article in the bin. No one would believe Ava. For all the world knew, she was just an attention-seeking journalist who spewed nothing but lies. But oh, how he wished he could wrap his hands around her small neck and wring her to death. She was sabotaging his plans.

Their plans.

"Did you think they'd believe it?" Jane asked, combing her silky dark hair in front of the bureau mirror. She'd been in this same cabin for months. At first, it was just a random, grimy house in the woods William retired to when he needed to think. But ever since her fake suicide, it quickly became Jane's lair. It was the only place they were certain she would not be found in. William spent a lot of money on refurbishing the cabin to suit Jane's expensive taste. He painted the walls, and replaced the thatched, leaky roof, and bought new furniture. It had cost him more than he'd budgeted for, but for her, he would do much more.

After all, he'd spent considerably more on her cover-up story. It was amazing the things money could accomplish. All he had to do to make the world believe Jane was dead was bribe greedy politicians, and promise reputable news sources millions of dollars. It was that easy, but truth-seekers like Ava Harrison who couldn't just let a case go were making it harder than it needed to be. If she didn't stop publishing those stupid articles soon, he would be forced to do something atrocious, to spill blood. Murder, after all, was nothing compared to the millions of dollars he'd devoted to the security of Jane's suicide story. He didn't understand what Ava had to gain by pursuing the truth anyway. She'd lost everything already. Her job, her reputation, and if she wasn't careful enough, she would soon lose her life.

"You worry too much." Jane stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his broad chest. She emanated a scent that was a mixture of strawberry and lavender. She bent her head and kneaded the soft spot on his neck with heavingly, watery kisses, and just like magic, his anxiety evaporated.

Throwing his head back with pleasure, William ran his hand up and down her arm. "I know. I just don't want that slimy bitch to screw this over."

"She won't." Jane kissed his cheek. "You've made sure of that, remember?"

William did remember, but was determined to forget. He was a man of good morals. His father, James Orlando had raised him up to be, had always said that a man without morals was no man, a disgrace, like an anchorless boat on turbulent waters which could be swayed here and there. But what James never mentioned was that morals meant nothing to love. His love for her, for Jane, stripped him of every iota of goodness, every modicum of nobility, every possible chance of going to heaven sinless.

He'd sinned too much in just a matter of months, and Jane was the foxy devil-serpent that had made that so, that had whispered tempting suggestions into his ears in the dead of night. He'd sinned by bribing the media authorities to lie that Jane had died. He's sinned by stealing his brother's lover. He still remembered Lewis's angered face when he caught William and Jane in bed together, red beyond the colour red. In a fit of rage, Lewis had lunged for William. But before Lewis got to him, Jane shoved a knife through his chest in mid-air.

 "It was the only way" she would say whenever he grieved over the loss of his brother, and he believed her.

It was the only way he would step up to be the owner of Starlight Academy. If his brother died. Not that he wanted the position, but Jane thought it best that he took the reigns from his brother. He was better suited to be the owner of Starlight than Lewis ever was. He was more strategic, much smarter than him.

"Now that Lewis is dead, I'm the legal owner again," Jane had said. "I can give Starlight to you. All of it. Just stop crying, Will. Your brother had to die. He was a hindrance, a bloody hindrance. We had to get rid of him."

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