Page 130 of Painted Truths

Mila and I take each other in as Samuel brandishes a small, shiny handgun from the waistband of his trousers. Assuming the worst—that he is about to kill one or both of us—I brace myself, only to stare in silent disbelief as he walks to the door and pleasantly calls, "Laur!" down the hallway, in contrast to the manic gleam in his eyes.

Turning back to us, he looks… gleeful. Giddy almost.

"Not exactly how I'd planned things to go, but"—he raises his hands unconcernedly—"she's played her part, and I'm sick of simpering to her inane whims."

At that moment, Lauren re-enters the room. "Get a move on, Samuel. Stop faffing about and do as you've been told."

She tuts, but the twisted grin on her face belies her sharp tone as she strides further into the room until she's directly in front of Mila. Reaching down, she fists Mila's long locks in her manicured hand and jerks her upright with enough force that Mila whimpers in pain.

Shouting my outrage, hoping to draw her wrath, I find she's entirely focused on the girl who's little more than a child. Her eyes don't seem so glazed, so foggy anymore, and she looks to be wholly together as she unleashes years of pent-up anger on an entirely innocent soul while I thrash around uselessly.

"The bastard daughter of the great Enrico DeMarco brought low—you're not so high and fucking mighty now!" Her words are spat with such vitriol, such evil, that I'm momentarily silenced.

"I've changed my mind; I think I'll play with you instead."

And at that, she rakes her nails down one side of Mila's beautiful face, deep gouges opening up directly as blood streams from the wounds.

When another person would surely cry or scream, Mila stares straight into Lauren's face, unmoving as she regards her aggressor.

"No wonder Dad fucking despised you."

The words are spoken easily, factually, and with the newfound knowledge that Mila, unlike her father, won't bow to her threats, Lauren flies into a rage, using her hold on Mila's hair to press her firmly face down into the daybed mattress, the younger girl bound and powerless to stop her.

I hear someone shouting for her to stop. Pleading with Lauren to please stop and it takes a long moment to realise that the voice is mine, though Lauren is too far gone to cease this madness.

"Samuel? Please, stop her." He stands unmoving, turning his lips down detachedly, lifting a shoulder. "None of my concern. One less for me to kill, innit?"

As I watch Mila thrash harder, my lungs feel deprived of oxygen and I desperately pray she’s hanging in there, so I do the only thing I can think of.

Flies with honey.

"Samuel?" I purposely inject a sensual tone into my voice, surprised to hear my words are steadier than I'd have thought they would be, even to my own ears.

"If you save her, I'll come willingly. I'll never leave you. We can be together. Forever. Just like you've wanted."

Shock crosses his face before he jumps into action, ripping Lauren from Mila and roughly removing her from the room despite her cries of displeasure.

Returning to me, he produces a small knife from a strap on his ankle underneath his trousers, which he uses to cut my cable ties before softly massaging my aching wrists in his gargantuan hands. Then, surprisingly, he presses the knife into my palm, obviously trusting me to keep my word.

"Cut her free, and then we'll leave, dearest Olivia. I've syphoned more than enough funds from Laur over the last five years that I'll be able to keep you in the lifestyle you deserve."

Placing a kiss on my forehead, as I compel myself to not shudder at his touch, he straightens up, pulling me to a stand beside him.

Clucking me under the chin, he sneers, "I have one last thing I have to do here, and then we'll be on our merry way."

Knowing exactly what he means, I must try to stop him from murdering anyone else. "Please, Samuel, let's just go. Now. I don't care about these people. I can't wait to have you to myself."

He groans deeply, running his hand the length of my body while I will myself to stay strong enough to see this charade through.

Leaning forward suddenly, he grazes his lips against mine while I suppress a shudder.

"I promise, my dearest love. This won't take a moment. I'll be right back."

He marches from the room, leaving the door ajar before I can even think of what to say next.

Knowing there's no time to waste, I jump into action, rushing to Mila's side to cut off the cable ties binding her hands and feet before gingerly turning her onto her back.

Her chest is rising and falling, but it looks as though she's passed out, whether from shock, blood loss, or both. I'm not sure.