Prologue
After putting his little girl to bed, Kenneth sat in the dark living room and waited for his wife. He knew he should be worried as time ticked by and it became later. He wasn’t, though. He was pissed.
Joy went out with her friends often. She had worked hard to be at the top of her social circle. She put together charity events, fundraiser balls, and intimate gatherings. Of course, Kenneth’s money helped with all of that. He had to admit, though, she was very passionate about her interests and took her “job” seriously. Her “job” being that she needed to keep up a certain appearance to others. The loving wife and mother, the trustworthy friend, and most importantly, the rich elitist. All that was far from the truth.
The older their daughter Emily got, the less Joy saw her as a daughter and more as a tool. She taught Emily the ways of her world; how to act, how to speak, how to look. It made Kenneth sick. He loved his daughter and, of course, he wanted her to have the best life possible, but she was still a child. Her biggest worry should be which doll to play with, not which jewelry was appropriate for the next event.
Making his way to the kitchen, Kenneth glanced up the stairs as he passed. Emily was going through a phase of sneaking out of her room lately. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of the dark, she just didn’t want to be alone. Seeing the stairs empty, he continued towards the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet and ice from the freezer, Kenneth poured himself some whiskey. Back in the living room, he sat on one of their oversized chairs. As he took a sip of his drink, he noticed car headlights flashed through the room. He was sick of this shit and putting a stop to it tonight.
Joy quietly closed the front door and gasped when she turned around.
“Jesus, Kenneth!” She put her hand on her chest. “You scared me. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Kenneth didn’t turn on a light or answer her question. “Where have you been?”
“You know I’ve been with the girls. We get together every Thursday.” She didn’t look at him as she hung up her coat.
“Really? Who was there this week? I know a couple of your friends are out of town.”
Joy squinted at him. She didn’t like the tone in his voice or what he was implicating. “It was just Cindy and Janice tonight.”
“Interesting.” Finishing his drink, Kenneth stood up and walked towards his wife. “Cindy called recently, asking for you. She said you canceled dinner. She wanted to be sure everything was okay. And, I know for a fact, Janice is helping take care of her mother-in-law.”
Kenneth had not once laid a hand on his wife. He had barely raised his voice to her, but the look in his eyes scared Joy. He had never looked at her that way before. With each step he took, she took a step back until she hit the wall. Joy was on the taller side, but not as tall as Kenneth. He towered over her and looked down into his wife’s eyes.
“I’m going to ask you again. Where have you been?”
Joy’s heart rate increased. Grabbing her chin, he tilted her face towards him. He stared at her, waiting for a response.
The darkness of his eyes and his forcefulness surprised Joy. It instantly made her want him more than she ever had before. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. He kissed her back immediately, but it was rough and angry. The taste of whiskey and the smell of his cologne made him irresistible. Gripping his shoulders, she pulled herself up and wrapped her legs around him. They kept kissing as he walked her to the kitchen table, setting her on top. Between the kissing and the way their bodies moved against each other, Joy was certain he had forgotten about questioning her. She let out a moan and whispered his name as he clenched her hips.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back and stopping the kiss. Breathless, she stared at him, waiting for his next move. He moved his mouth slowly along her jawline and made his way to whisper in her ear. “I want a divorce.”
Joy’s body froze as Kenneth let go of her and stepped back, anger still in his eyes.
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t trust you or like the person you’ve become.”
When he turned to leave, she hopped off the table and followed him. “How dare you threaten me with divorce!”
“I’m not threatening you, Joy,” he spoke in a loud whisper, not wanting to wake up Emily.
“You can’t do this to me. I won’t allow it.”
Kenneth let out a deep laugh. “Do this to you? What about what you are doing to me?”
Joy shook her head and looked at him, confused.
“Where have you been, Joy?!”
“I already told you…”
He cut her off, not wanting to hear more lies. “Are you fucking someone else?!”
“No!”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
As soon as he turned his back to her, Joy opened the closest drawer and grabbed the first thing she saw; a hammer. Gripping it tightly in her hand, she swung as hard as she could. Not taking into account his height, Joy missed his head, and the hammer slammed right into his shoulder.
“Fuck!” he yelled.
Just as he started to turn around, she hit him again. Not missing this time, Kenneth took a blow straight to his face. It was enough to knock him over. Kneeling and bleeding from his face, Kenneth looked up at Joy.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t fucking anyone. I was meeting with a hitman.”
Kenneth’s eyes went wide. He looked like he was about to ask a question, but Joy answered before he could, “I have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. You can no longer give that to me.”
“This is about money?!” Kenneth asked through gritted teeth. “And how do you expect to get any money without me?”
She shrugged and smiled before she took the last swing. “Your life insurance.”
Kenneth paused as realization set in. He tried to protect himself, but the first hit to the head left him too dazed.
Joy heard a satisfying crack as the hammer came down on his skull. Dropping the hammer, Joy fell to her knees and looked at her husband for a couple of minutes.
After coming up with a plan to cover all this up, Joy stood. She decided making this look like a robbery gone wrong would be her best bet. She needed to make it believable. Putting her plan in motion, she placed her hand on the table and slammed the hammer down onto it. The blow hurt like hell, but convincing the police she was also attacked would help explain her fingerprints on the hammer. She let tears run down her face and practiced her speech.
“I tried to grab the hammer to protect Kenneth! Oh, my god! Kenneth!” Her voice was hysterical.
She practiced talking in between sobs. When she thought she was ready, she smiled to herself and then proceeded to trash her own home.
