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Adrik continues, “She isn’t important to you. Take me instead.”
The man behind me chuckles in my ear. “I never expected this kind of sacrifice from the soon-to-be Don Tasarov. How noble of you.”
“Let her go,” Adrik says. “Let’s end this pointless war.”
“You think this is war?” the man asks, stepping towards the front door, taking me with him. “This isn’t war. We are only getting started. The bitch comes with us.”
Then I’m being dragged away.
Adrik and his men are outnumbered four to one. Even if Adrik wanted to fight, it would be a suicide mission. That much is clear to me, so I know it must be clear to Adrik.
Still, as I’m being pulled out of the door, I reach towards him. He’s twenty yards away and paling faster and faster every second from blood loss, but I reach anyway.
Because I know there’s nothing he cannot do.
“Adrik!”
He doesn’t say anything or call after me. But his blue eyes are locked on mine, watching me go.
Until we round the corner and Adrik is out of sight and I’m being dragged across the driveway, screaming and screaming and screaming.
Until my throat is raw and I can’t scream anymore.
Suddenly, I’m too weak to fight or argue or beg. I just go limp, letting the men haul me over the grass and shove me into the backseat of a waiting car.
I flop against the leather in a graceless heap. The door slams shut. I don’t even bother trying the handle. I know it won’t work.
“This can’t be happening,” I murmur. “This cannot be happening.”
“Time away has made you docile, I see,” a voice says.
I yelp in surprise and jerk back against the door. The windows are tinted dark, and I didn’t realize there was a third row in the car. I spin around and see I’m not alone. Someone is sitting behind me.
Then he leans forward, and I get a closer look into the cruel face of Senator Malcolm Waters.
He smiles. “Hello again, Emery.”
“What are you doing here?” I gasp. “Are you—?”
I don’t even know what to ask. The devastation I saw at Adrik’s compound—the bullets and bombs and bodies—is too much to comprehend.
I shake my head. “Is all this because of you? Did you—People died in there, Malcolm. What the fuck kind of monster are you to—”
“Easy,” Malcolm says, holding up a hand. “You’ll want to watch how you talk to me, I think.”
“Is this about me marrying you?” I spit. “Is this about getting your greedy hands on my father’s money? Can you really be so shallow and simple-minded that you’d go to these lengths to—”
“Shut your mouth, you bitch!” Malcolm hisses. To punctuate his words, he slaps me hard across the face.
I taste blood. My head rings, my vision swims. Adrenaline is pouring through me and a tidal wave of every hateful thing I’ve ever wanted to say to Malcolm is sitting on the end of my tongue.
But I hold it all back.
“Good,” he says, leaning back in his chair with a smile. “You’re smarter than your father, I’ll give you that.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“When I showed up at his house unannounced, he also had nasty things to say to me,” Malcolm says. “His death would have been nicer if he’d kept his mouth shut.”
“His… he’s… my father is dead?”
Malcolm reaches out and twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. I can barely resist the urge to snap at his finger like a viper.
“Don’t worry, Emery. I don’t have any plans to kill you.”
There’s too much information coming in at once. Too much to process. If I don’t set some of it aside, I’ll lose my mind.
So I try to focus on the present. On this moment. Take things one step at a time.
“So,” I breathe, “do you still want to—I mean, I’m already married. Adrik and I, we—”
“I have no desire to marry you,” Malcolm says with a laugh. “That ship has sailed.”
For a brief moment, I’m relieved.
Then, Malcolm’s eyes darken and narrow. His smile is sly and sends a shiver down my spine. “A wife is so… domestic. So ordinary. The plans I have for you are much more depraved.”
Still smiling at me, Malcolm waves a hand over his head. At his command, the car lurches forward.
Adrik’s compound is still smoking as we pull onto the road and drive away.
* * *
