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“And how much does one of those cost?”
“One point eight million.”
I stumble again, and Vincent snatches me closer before I trip into the water, smashing a fish. Who in their right mind pays that much for a fish? “Sit.” He pulls out my chair, and I take my seat, scooting it as far from his million-dollar show pets as I can. “I must admit, the reflection from all the greenery glows against your skin. May I ask where you’re from?”
He catches me off guard with his personal grab for information. I wrap my arms around myself, brushing my hands up and down my biceps. “Like, where I grew up?”
“Where you crawled out of before you showed up pretending to be Logan Justice’s girlfriend?”
The change in him activates my panic button, but I quickly mask it by placing a calm smile across my face. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”
He startles me by reaching over the table and capturing my wrist. I try to pull away, but he doesn’t allow it. “Who the fuck are you, Miss Finch?” His sinister tone shatters another layer of my self-confidence. My throat starts to tighten, and I struggle to swallow down the unease building inside me. My fear starts to eat away at me. I don’t remember ever telling him my last name.
I inhale a deep, slow breath. “Vincent, I’m not sure what you’re asking. Again, I’m not feeling well and would really like to go home.” I fight to conceal my distress. His question is cold and patronizing. He knows something, but I refuse to show my cards just yet.
He releases my wrist and sits back. “Before the surprise? What’s the fun in that?”
“What surprise?” The slip in my trembling voice reveals my unease. He raises his hand, and just the mere flicker of his fingertips sends me into a deeper spiral of hysteria. His calm, collected manner sends a chill down to my toes, and the color drains from my face when Chino walks across the bridge, stopping next to Vincent.
His malicious sneer rattles me to my core. “I just love how we keep meeting like this.”
I shoot up from my seat, only to be slammed back down by a goon standing behind me. Vincent crosses his legs. “I was given the most interesting information moments ago. Any idea what it could have been?”
“That your henchman is a psychopath?”
Chino releases another evil laugh.
“You think it’s funny—that you shot an innocent girl right in front of me?” I glare back with a sneer, my own hatred growing.
“Ahhh…” Vincent unfolds his legs. “I assume that was Francesca Vaughn. It’s good to hear he finally got rid of that unfinished business.”
What? “But wait! Did he also mention he tried to rape me—?”
Vincent’s fists slam onto the table, and I jump, my knees banging against the bottom. “Please, do enlighten me, Miss Finch.” He takes a file Chino hands him. The goon behind me reaches forward and captures my wrist. Before I can attempt to free myself, he has my hand slammed against the table and a giant knife poised onto the top of my wrist. “What did you think you would accomplish? You would charm me into telling you all my secrets then run back to your little magazine and expose me?”
I use the last of my willpower to even out my breathing. “No—”
“Or even better—the police?”
The tension in the room becomes so thick, it’s impossible to breathe. My stomach lurches. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Do you think you’re the first person to try something so foolish?”
“Chino will tell you anything to get me away from you.” The lies churn like acid in my stomach. Chino laughs, and my dread thickens.
Vincent leans forward. “Word for word, how did he touch you?” My unease gets dowsed in gasoline, sparking a fire throughout my entire chest. My brain tells me to run, but my feet feel like they’re frozen to the ground. How could I have thought this would turn out any other way? The goon behind me nudges his elbow into my back, and I sputter out, “He—threw me to the ground…”
Images of him on top of me, his filthy hands…feeling so helpless as his heavy weight caged me down. “He told me he wanted to see what was so special about me. Ruin me for Logan. He knew he wasn’t supposed to touch me, but he was going to make me hurt—take what you wanted—destroy me before you could have me.” I slowly raise my free hand to wipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks.
Chino takes a step toward me. “Oh, baby, you know you wanted—”
“You piece of scum!” I scream out and stand, two hands shoving me back in my seat. I thrash against my restraints, my composure slipping. “Let me go!”
