AFTER NEVER (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 34/106: The Broken Image

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CRASH!

The voice of Rickard Ellington's fist against the glass of the mirror rushed my blood through my veins again, and I blinked.

It was at that that I noticed that my mouth had gone dry and my whole body was shaking.

'Did you know that your dear Rickard Ellington Conway was a MURDERER?' ─Faulkner's voice echoed to my senses, and I moved to step away from him, scarred.

C-Could it be...

A hand gripped around my upperarm directly, and stopped me from moving.

I looked up to his deep eyes with wide, frightened eyes.

He turned to shoot Faulkner a deadly, frozen-below-zero, look.

"Careful about your words, Faulkner," His voice darkened with, for the first time, almost obvious cold rage, "Don't go around filling her head with your foolish lies."

I shuddered in his grip, and, for a second, tried wriggling.

He held me in spot, and shot me a look. "Don't believe whatever he says."

I gasped, and searched his eyes for something.

A spec or a twitch to hint to me he was lying.

I found none.

His eyes always mirrored this.

Honesty. Never fakery or lying.

They always gave him away. Always.

I sobbed softly, I just couldn't help it.

For a second, my faith in him had wavered.

A laugh snapped both our attentions towards its source again.

Faulkner laughed, madly, as he held a mirror and crashed it to the ground before him.

"You speak funny," He eyed the president wickedly.

"My daughter had spent the night with you before she was found dead in the morning!" He roared, "And you took care of the funeral because you did not want anyone to find out about your crime, you criminal! You didn't even allow any info about the reason of her death to be discussed any further at any costs!"

I shivered, and shot a look at Rickard Ellington. His expression was dark, dark and dead frozen. He clearly did not enjoy people throwing accusations in his direction.

"I-Is that─" He cut me off with a hard voice, while not looking towards me.

Rather, he was fixing the old man with a gaze so cold I thought it might freeze his bold head.

"Where were you when Aria died, Faulkner?" Rickard Ellington's voice could slash through steel.

I bit my lips, Aria... That must be the woman in question... Faulkner's daughter.

The father of the deceased simply blinked, and opened his mouth and closed it several times.

Mr. Ellington continued to fix him with his steady gaze, as he locked his jaw. "Oh I'll tell you, you were having a good vacation with your back then latest paramour."

The old man gasped, and so did I, as I blinked several times in the direction of the alluring Adam.

"Another information, where was your wife; Aria's mother?" He muttered, his words dripping of poison, "Probably at some dark cabaret getting wasted and then heading to the room of any man she bumps into."