“Careful, Your Highness. Don't want to damage the merchandise.”
“Viktor—” I started.
“Will watch you disappear.” Marcel hauled me to my feet. Used me as a shield. Gun still pressed to my head. “And spend the rest of his miserable life knowing he failed. Just like he failed his sister.”
Viktor's face went white. Then red. Pure rage.
He tried to stand. Collapsed. Too much blood. Too much damage.
“Sebastian,” he gasped. “Don't. Don't let him?—”
Something detonated above us. The ceiling groaned. Cracks spider-webbed across plaster.
Marcel was already moving. Dragging me backward. Toward a section of wall that... wasn't a wall.
Hidden panel. Emergency exit. He'd planned this. Planned everything.
“Dom!” I shouted. “The ceiling?—”
Too late.
The roof collapsed. Stone and burning timber. Sealing the corridor between us and them.
Viktor's scream cut off as debris buried him.
“Viktor!” I tore at Marcel's grip. Didn't care about the gun. Didn't care about anything except getting back to him. “Let me go! He's?—”
“Dying.” Marcel's voice in my ear. Cold. Final. “Along with your friend. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make sure your father joins them.”
The threat stopped me cold.
“That's better.” He pulled me through the hidden passage. Into darkness. Into maintenance tunnels that smelled like mildew and olddeath. “We're going to take a little trip, Your Highness. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere your bodyguard can't follow.”
“They'll find you,” I said. Voice shaking with rage and fear in equal measure. “They'll hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
“Let them try.” He shoved me forward. Hard. I stumbled. Caught myself on the tunnel wall. “But first they'll have to find you. And by the time they do...”
He didn't finish. Didn't need to.
We moved through the tunnels. My mind racing. Looking for options. Exits. Weapons. Anything.
But Marcel moved like he owned the darkness. Like he'd mapped every inch of this place. Gun always at the ready. Always one step ahead.
We emerged into a garage. Underground. Three vehicles waiting. Engines running. Drivers already in place.
Professional. Prepared. He'd planned for this contingency.
Planned to lose. Planned to run. Planned to take me as insurance.
“In.” He shoved me toward the middle vehicle. Armored SUV. Bulletproof glass. The kind of vehicle that could survive a war zone.
I considered fighting. Considered making a run for it.
But there were too many mercenaries. Too many guns. And somewhere behind us, Viktor was buried under rubble and bleeding out.
Fighting got me killed. Running got me killed. And dead, I couldn't help anyone.
So I got in.
