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Break Me: Smith and Belle (Royals Saga Book 12)

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by Geneva Lee




  Contents

  Also by Geneva Lee

  1. Belle

  2. Smith

  3. Belle

  4. Smith

  5. Belle

  6. Smith

  7. Belle

  8. Belle

  9. Smith

  10. Belle

  11. Smith

  12. Belle

  13. Smith

  14. Belle

  15. Smith

  16. Belle

  17. Smith

  18. Belle

  19. Smith

  20. Belle

  21. Smith

  22. Belle

  23. Smith

  24. Belle

  25. Smith

  26. Belle

  27. Smith

  About the Author

  Also by Geneva Lee

  THE RIVALS SAGA

  Blacklist

  Backlash

  Bombshell

  THE ROYALS SAGA

  Command Me

  Conquer Me

  Crown Me

  Crave Me

  Covet Me

  Capture Me

  Complete Me

  Cross Me

  Claim Me

  Consume Me

  Breathe Me

  Break Me

  THE SINNERS SAGA

  Beautiful Criminal

  Beautiful Sinner

  Beautiful Forever

  BREAK ME

  Copyright © 2020 by Geneva Lee.

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Ivy Estate Publishing + Media

  www.GenevaLee.com

  First published, 2020.

  Cover design © Date Book Designs.

  Image © Andrey Kiselev/Adobe Stock.

  To Josh,

  Every love story is about you

  1

  Belle

  The cold is so deep it sinks into my skin and settles in my bones. The wind slices through the air around me, catching my hair and whipping it across my face. All I can see is white. There’s no sound except the faint cry of the wind that sends snowflakes dancing around me. It’s oddly peaceful despite the chill. A wail rises up, shattering the still morning. It’s distant. Foreign. A baby?

  I want to turn to the sound, to find the child and comfort it, but it’s too far away from me. Soon the pressing roar of silence overwhelms the noise once more, until there is only me caught in my wintery snow globe. Pins prick my fingertips, my skin growing too cold in the dropping temperature, but I don’t mind. I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages. Why can’t it always be like this?

  Calm.

  Peaceful.

  Alone.

  A small voice taps at the back of my mind, whispering thoughts I don’t want to interrupt me. She’s better off without you, it murmurs, but what kind of mother would you be if you left her? Take her with you. She’s already here. It will be easy and then she’ll stop crying. You’ll both stop crying. Things will finally be better.

  I take a step forward, moving closer to that blank oblivion in front of me that promises to set me free.

  The voice is always with me now. It comes to me in my sleep and whispers the truth I try to ignore during the day. It’s right. We’ll both be happier once we find shelter in the peaceful cold waiting to embrace us. I can’t leave Penny behind. I’m responsible for her. And somewhere deep inside me, I know that I love her. Maybe I can find that feeling on the other side of this—in that place where we’re safe and happy again.

  “Belle!”

  It’s not the tiny voice calling my name. She never says my name. This voice is deep, radiating with authority, although a tinge of panic ripples under its command. Part of me wants to turn to it and explain that everything is fine. I finally figured it out. I just have to go towards the cold, bright light, and then Penny and I will be free. I can finally be the mother she needs. I won’t be scared or helpless. We just have to find that promised place, the one the voice whispers will deliver me.

  “Beautiful!” The other voice cried again, and the world latched onto me. A new thought formed in my head: Smith. He could come with us.

  No, the voice whispers. He won’t understand.

  For the first time, doubt rose inside me. The voice didn’t know Smith like I did. He’d understand. He’d want to go.

  No! I told you—you can’t tell him about me, the voice says.

  I ignored her, turning slowly, still safe in the wintry peace whirling around me. My eyes met his, locking on, but before I could call him to join me, he pleaded, “Beautiful, come to me.”

  I blinked, and suddenly Smith seemed so far away. His arms reached out to me, his words begging me to move towards him. It took a moment for me to understand. Why would he want me to leave this peaceful place? But his words drew me to him, and the world slowly returned to me. A baby cried again, and I remembered that Penny was in my arms. I glanced down to comfort her and spotted the ice below me.

  “Smith? Where...?” But I didn’t need him to tell me.

  I didn’t know how I got there. I didn’t know where I was going. Suddenly, the slight prickles of cold I’d felt ached to life across my body. I clutched Penny more tightly against me, worried that my increasingly numb hands might drop her. I was too scared to move, frozen not only by the cold but also the terror pulsing through me. Why was I here? What had happened? I waited for the little voice to tell me, but she’d gone silent.

  Smith came as close to the edge of the ice as he dared, urging me forward with a firm voice that rattled with an undercurrent of fear I felt myself. I forced myself toward him, slipping one foot forward across the thinly frozen surface of the pond. I could see water rippling beneath it. Then a small line etched across it and splintered near my feet. My heart nearly stopped. Smith was in front of me, I reminded myself. Penny was in my arms. The ice was cracking along with my own mind. It took every ounce of effort to propel myself forward. As soon as I was close enough, Smith’s arm lashed out and caught me around the waist. He pulled me against him as the ice on the pond gave way. I’d been standing there only seconds ago. If he hadn’t come — if he hadn’t found me… I couldn’t bring myself to think what would have happened.

  We crushed Penny between us as I held onto him, his own arms tightened around me. “Smith...Smith. Help me. I don’t know why…“

  I didn’t understand any of this. I didn’t understand myself.

  Smith said nothing for a long moment. He only stared into my eyes before he pressed a palm to cup the nape of my neck and pull me closer to him. Neither of us spoke. Finally, he drew back and searched my face. He was looking for answers.

  I hoped he would find some there, so that he could share them.

  “It’s okay,” he said, sounding as if the words were meant as much for him as for me. “You’re safe. Everything’s fine.”

  I shook my head, moving away from him. I held Penny against his chest until his hands moved from me to cradle her. I didn’t want to hold her. I didn’t want to hurt her.

  “It’s not okay,” I choked. I couldn’t explain any of this. Not to him. Not to me. “Smith, I think I’m going crazy.”

  2

  Smith

  Penny laid on the changing table wrapped in a blan
ket while I counted her fingers and toes. I kissed and rubbed each of her chilled limbs, drawing away the bluish tinge until she was a warm, rosy pink again. Movement caught my eye and I looked up to see Nora edging nervously into the room with a freshly warmed bottle. My heart sank when I realized it was her. Belle refused to go inside the nursery. Part of me was grateful. The truth was that no matter how much I focused on the crisis at hand, I couldn’t get the image of her on the ice, holding our daughter, out of my mind. I suspected that some day when my eyes closed the final time, it would be the last thing I saw. A memory like that carved itself into your bones and became part of you. The other part of me wondered how this would change my wife, and how long Belle would punish herself for her strange behavior.

  “She’s hungry,” I said, lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the glider. A freshly lit fire crackled in the nursery hearth, and I cradled Penny close as Nora brought me the bottle. She lingered in the nursery, showing me exactly how to give Penny a bottle, but not saying much else.

  “She’s fine,” Nora said softly after a few minutes of awkward silence.

  “I know,” I snapped. “Belle would never hurt her.”

  Nora took a startled step away, her hand fluttering to her chest as she shook her head. Her own dark eyes welling with tears. “I didn’t mean to imply —”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, coming to my senses when I saw her horror-stricken face. Was I the monster behind all this fear? “I’m just on edge.”

  “I understand.” But she maintained her distance and started busying herself with various chores in the nursery.

  It was her job to look after the baby. She was back now, which meant there would be a second set of eyes on Penny. That should make me feel more reassured, but I wasn’t positive that it would be enough. I found myself wanting to build a fortress around my daughter and my wife. The question was should I put them in separate towers or keep them together?

  In my darkest thoughts, I considered whether Penny might not be safe with Belle. I hated to even admit that to myself. But Belle had taken her on the ice. And the look she gave me when she turned to me—it was like peering into the eyes of a stranger. It wasn’t my wife holding our child. I didn’t understand what was happening to Belle, but I would do everything in my power to find out. Until then, I had to decide whether I could trust her with the baby.

  Belle would never forgive herself if something happened to Penny. I knew that. I also knew she worried that she didn’t love her baby enough. I wished she could see what I did. I saw her love every time they were together. I knew it was love that drove Belle to hand the baby to someone else as she became more scared of herself. Sometimes love meant letting go. But I didn’t want to let go of Belle, and I didn’t want her to let go of me or Penny. I had to find her. I had to help her. And the first step to doing that was to stop avoiding each other. We had to get through this together.

  I rose slowly. Penny squawked at being disturbed, closing one hand over the bottle and the other around my finger. I stared down at her to find her blue eyes watching me and knew I had to put her above everyone, even Belle. It was what Belle would want me to do. I had to keep Penny safe until Belle was herself again, and she would be—soon. I couldn’t consider anything else.

  “Would you like me to take her?” Nora asked carefully, obviously still shaken by my outburst. She hovered near a stack of freshly folded receiving blankets.

  I nodded. “Please. I should check on my wife.”

  “I saw her,” Nora murmured as I moved closer. “She’s not herself. She’s no more to blame than you are.”

  “I know.” I passed Penny to her, earning me a mewl of disapproval until Nora snuggled her to her chest.

  Thankfully, Nora’s attention shifted instantly to her charge. I couldn’t handle a lecture from my nanny about how to be a husband and father. I was perfectly proficient at fucking that up without her insight.

  “Pretty baby,” she cooed. “You need a nap.” She carried her back to the chair by the fire, lowered herself, and began to rock.

  I lingered in the doorway and watched her. She made it look easy. It was what I had imagined it to be like for Belle. I’d expected to come home from the office to find her peacefully rocking her daughter just like this. Instead, she wouldn’t go near her.

  Stepping into the hallway, I gathered myself for a moment, running a hand along the back of my neck while trying to figure out what to do next. Before I could, Mrs. Winters bustled by with a tea tray.

  She paused to deliver a stern look. “You should see your wife now.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said wearily. She needed to be reminded of who was in charge here, but I didn’t have it in me to insult the entire staff today. Not now that I needed them more than ever.

  Edward met us at the door, flashing me a concerned look as he lowered his voice, “She won’t say anything,” he told me. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me to help with anything.”

  He clapped a hand on my shoulder as he passed. He’d been nearly as shaken as I was when we got Belle off the ice. Everything had happened so quickly that I was still processing the events that led us there. The morning had started in panic when Belle couldn’t seem to nurse Penny. I’d gone off to the shops to pick up formula, and I’d found out there had been a mistake with the tea she’d been drinking. Instead of helping her build her milk supply to get the baby’s weight up, it had been slowly drying it out. I thought that was going to be the worst news of the day—until I reached home and found the front door wide open, Belle gone along with our daughter. I’d left Edward with her and the baby, and it was clear from his downcast eyes that he felt responsible for her winding up out there.

  It wasn’t his fault, though. I should have never left. I should’ve sent him into town, or Mrs. Winters, or waited for Nora to show up. I should have known better than to let Belle out of my sight. No one could be trusted to care as much about her safety as I did. Even her best friend.

  Belle ignored Mrs. Winters as she set the tea tray on the nightstand by her side of the bed. A large cashmere blanket was wrapped around my wife’s petite shoulders. She clutched it to her chest, staring at the wall without blinking.

  “Let’s see to getting you warmed up,” Mrs. Winters said in a cheerful, but strained voice. “You’ll feel fine again in no time.”

  Belle’s eyes flashed up to her, a sneer curling her lip, morphing her face into something so cruel that I stepped forward in shock. “Fine? Don’t you mean mental?”

  Mrs. Winters startled for a moment, but collected herself quickly. “We all have strange fits every now and then.”

  “Would you excuse us a moment, Mrs. Winters?” I asked her.

  She tossed a withering look at me as she made her way into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going to run you a hot bath.”

  That was a good idea. I should have thought of it. Clearly, the cook thought so as well. “Thank you.” I got the oddest sense that I’d hurt her feelings by asking her to leave, but it wasn’t as though she could make this matter any better. The only way we were going to help the situation was by facing it as a couple.

  “I don’t want a bath,” Belle muttered, her words nearly lost as the sound of running water filled the air.

  “It’s a good idea, beautiful. It was cold out there,” I said. “I think it would be a good idea if you had a little help when you are taking care of Penny.”

  “That’s what Nora is supposed to be for,” she said coldly. Each word felt like a brick being laid between us. She was building a wall around herself. I didn’t need to build her a fortress. She was doing it on her own.

  “Nora can’t be here all the time,” I said in a measured tone. “I know Edward is here, but maybe we should call your aunt.”

  “You really don’t trust me,” she said in a small voice, plunging forward before I could assuage her fears. “Good. You shouldn’t trust me. I don’t trust me.”

  “Whatever’
s happening, I swear to you that we will figure it out.”

  “I know.” But there was no confidence in her eyes, all I found there was defeat.

  3

  Belle

  I hated the patterned paper covering the walls. I’d been staring at it for the better part of half an hour while Mrs. Winters and Smith clucked over me. Penny had been taken to the nursery for a bottle. It was the first time I hadn’t been the one to feed her. Instead, I sat here staring at the fucking walls. I’d picked out the floral wallpaper, thinking its lush green colors would provide a sensual backdrop to our bedroom. I must not have looked closely enough, because I hadn’t seen what was hidden in the print until it had been applied to every wall in the bedroom. Small spiders had been painted on to the rose petals, nearly blending into the lush background. I’d only noticed them recently. Now I couldn’t see anything else. Sometimes, I was convinced they were crawling across the leaves.

  “Beautiful, what are you looking at?”

  I tore my gaze away and shook my head as he studied the spot I’d been staring at. Could he see the spiders? “My mind must have wandered.”

  Poor choice of words. Was that what had happened earlier on the ice? Suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking of moments I couldn’t explain. Putting the photograph of Margot in Smith’s desk drawer. Forgetting the nappies on the changing table. I hadn’t even checked the tea I had been given by the pharmacist. It was a wonder that something worse hadn’t happened.

 

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