Page 122 of Contempt

Lucia swallowed the thickness in her throat. “Death, you mean.”

Christian chuckled. “Yes, exactly that.”

She didn’t know how she was holding it together watching the scene play out on the screens. At some point, she had become a little too numb. Like if she let herself feel the emotions that were trying to ravage her insides … well, then she would be entirely useless.

She wouldn’t be able to feel anything but that.

Lucia couldn’t take that risk.

“Isn’t that the young man who interrupted us at breakfast?” Christian asked as he watched Renzo look over the bomb.

She opted not to lie. “Yes.”

“Do you love him?”

“With everything that I am,” Lucia whispered.

Christian smiled again. “Oh, well, this is going to be difficult for you.”

Fuck you.

The words were right on the tip of her tongue, but somehow, Lucia managed to keep them inside her head. After all, her scalp and cheek were still burning from the last time she tried to do anything against Christian.

Christian got up from the foot of the bed, and inched closer to the screen while being slightly bent over at the knees. He tipped his head one way as he peered at the one screen, and then the other way when he looked at the others.

She didn’t know what he was looking for.

“The rest of them—they’ve all left the line of the cameras, haven’t they?”

“You should have put some in the back,” she muttered.

That’s where she had watched them all go. Whoever else was inside the warehouse with Renzo, John, and her cousin, Andino. They’d all headed toward the back of the place, for whatever reason. Maybe because they knew where the cameras were, and didn’t want to be watched like rats about to die in a large metal box.

But who was to say?

“I didn’t put the cameras anywhere,” Christian muttered. “They came with the damn place—an associate sold it to me before I came to America. I thought it would work well for my plans. I’m regretting not having someone go in and add more to the security system.”

“Fascinating.”

It wasn’t.

She didn’t even try to hide how dry her tone came out.

It wasn’t lost on Christian because he glanced back at her over his shoulder with an arched brow that dared her to continue without even saying a word. Her gaze darted to the screen behind him—the one showcasing Renzo nodding as John walked away from him. He pulled a tool out of his pocket.

It looked like a cutter.

A wire cutter.

Lucia swallowed again—that lump was bigger, now. She needed to keep Christian’s attention on her. Renzo would only have cutters if he was going to cut something, right? Like the wires … had he figured out a way to disengage the bomb?

Would it still work if Christian pulled the kill switch?

She didn’t know.

Still, she could try to keep his hand off that kill switch on his phone for as long as possible. She needed a head start, right? Maybe Renzo needed one, too.

“You know,” Christian said, “you are beginning to become boring to me, Lucia.”