Chapter 30 – Coccette's POV
Most of the time, I don't see Frost in the house.
Mostly because I come back either too late or too early — and I know he's always working.
Separate rooms help a lot too. Avoiding him is easier that way, and honestly, no contact feels like the best option for me.
Because let's be clear about one thing:
he helped kill me.
Don't expect me to forgive him.
Sure, I have to act like nothing happened, but inside? No.
He killed me.
I opened the apartment door slowly, hoping — praying — that he wouldn't be there.
But no.
Of course not.
It felt like the universe was against me today.
Anika's drama, Emily coming back… and now Frost.
He was standing at the kitchen counter.
Cooking.
I frowned and walked closer, checking what he was making.
Pasta.
Since when does he even cook?
And pasta? Seriously?
"Food's almost ready," he said coldly, without even looking at me. "You should eat."
"No," I replied immediately.
He finally turned around, fixing me with that dark, intense stare.
"So you're here today. Finally," he said. "I never see my wife in our house."
I smirked. "Yeah. Your wife. Anyway, I always come home — just not at the same time as you."
His jaw tightened.
"But as a wife, you should—"
"And as a husband, you should act like one," I cut him off calmly. "Instead, you stay very close to my stepmother, Anika, for some mysterious reason."
He froze.
"What are you talking about?" he snapped. "Did you see what Betha did? Of course I sided with the victim, Coccette. And Betha is not the victim."
I laughed, bitter and cold.
"Anika? The woman who disrespected me and talked about my dead father? That's the victim to you?"
I stepped closer. "Are you deaf? Because even someone deaf could see who's right and who's wrong. And Anika is not the victim."
That's when his expression changed.
He stood up suddenly and grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and possessive.
"What do you want, Coccette?" he said angrily. "You want me to act like your husband?"
Before I could answer, he pushed me hard onto the living room sofa.
I gasped as my back hit the cushions.
He stood over me, holding my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him.
My body started shaking — not from desire. Never from desire.
From disgust.
"What the hell are you doing, Frost?" I asked.
I tried to sound calm, but my trembling voice betrayed me.
He smirked.
"What a man should do with his wife."
Then he added, slowly, his voice dark,
"So… you don't want dinner?"
His eyes scanned me.
"Fine. Then I guess you want to start with dessert first."
Only then did he pull off his shirt.
I froze.
Yes — he was handsome. His body was strong, muscular, perfectly built.
But none of that mattered.
This was enemy territory.
"No," I said firmly. "Now that you suddenly want to act like a husband, I don't want it."
He was on top of me in seconds, kissing my neck, biting lightly.
I closed my eyes.
And for some reason…
I imagined Alaric.
A sound escaped me before I could stop it — not desire, just shock.
That was it.
I shoved Frost with all my strength. He fell to the floor.
"Never do this again!" I screamed. "I am not your plaything. Do you hear me?"
I ran to my room and slammed the door shut behind me.
What the hell just happened?
Why would he do this?
Does he really think I would forgive him after everything he did?
And what is he planning with Anika if I don't stop them?
…And why, when he was on top of me, did I think of Alaric?
Coccette, listen to yourself.
Your death could be even worse if you keep playing with fire.
You're not here to love.
You're here for revenge.