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GENEVIEVE
The room is starting to feel like home, and that is quite possibly the saddest shit that’s ever crossed my mind. Yes, I have an apartment, but how long will it remain there? How long until some other wolf comes through and scoops up my assets? The only comfort I get out of it is that Chaz won’t get a single pence out of it. That asshole. And to think I was prepared to marry him. How long would it have taken me to catch him cheating?
He couldn’t even wait until we were officially married.
Sighing, I scrape my hair out of my face and consider all my options. They haven’t killed me yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t planning to. I hurt them and betrayed their trust. Clearly Chaz isn’t going to pay the ransom, and they won’t get what they wanted in the beginning. I know so much, I can’t imagine them letting me go without a fight. I’ve never been one to cower and accept my fate, so if it comes down to it and my death waits in the wings, I’m going to fight like hell to get away.
“Genevieve,” Archer calls, beckoning me like a dog from downstairs.
I haven’t been up here long, but I can’t honestly say I know how long it’s really been. Time is starting to blur together when I’m in here. I don’t know how many times I’ve counted the panels on the walls.
I debate not moving. If this is the moment he decides to kill me, I’m in no rush to meet him. I’m already tired of him calling me from downstairs and waiting for me to come like a good girl. They could at least come upstairs, the bastards.
“Genevieve.” This time it’s Eric, and the sound of his voice has me straightening. “Could you come down here? Please?”
He tacks on the please, sounding desperate.
Where Archer commands, Eric asks, and it’s what has me standing carefully from my spot on the bed and padding my way to the open doorway. I peek around the edge, checking out the stairs. When I see no assassins waiting for me, I step into the hallway.
I can hear them murmuring amongst themselves downstairs, their voices low. Unsure what they are debating, I move silently, purposely avoiding the stairs that make noise when they feel pressure. The lower I get down the staircase, the clearer their voices become.
“We’re sure about this?” Booker asks, his voice strained. “I don’t really want to—”
“It’s the only option,” Archer interrupts. “We’ve already discussed it.”
I pause on the stairs, just out of sight. “Are you debating which one of you is going to kill me?” I ask, my voice clear. It doesn’t shake, which makes me proud. Maybe there are only so many times I can ask if they are going to kill me before I become numb to it. If the answer is yes, if this is where it ends, I’ll be moving as fast as my legs can carry me back upstairs and holing up in a room while I determine a way out. There are four of them and only one of me. The odds aren’t in my favour.
“No,” Eric replies quickly before blowing out an audible breath, his next words coming out slower and more careful. “No, we’re not going to kill you.”
I listen for the lie in his words, but I don’t hear it. Of the four, I trust Eric the most. Even though I hurt him, even though I betrayed him, he still cares. I’d seen both pain and worry in his eyes earlier.
With his words ringing in my mind, I peek around the corner and meet the eyes of the four men there. They are sitting around the table with a single empty chair, as if the meeting can’t start without my presence. No food is on the table, which means this isn’t dinner. That’s good, because my nerves would never let me eat right now. I’m on edge, prepared to bolt at a moment’s notice.
“What is this?” I query, looking at Archer for the answer.
“Come have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty chair.
Instead of listening, I move over to the table with slow, measured steps and stand behind it. “I’d rather be on my feet for whatever this is,” I rasp out.
Eric is to my left, and Booker is to my right. Gage, to my surprise, is sitting down just like the others, and for once, he’s the only one not looking at me. Instead, his eyes are on the knife he scratches into the wooden table with. Archer is directly in front of me, his eyes steady on my face when I look at him.
Tension hangs heavily in the air, and it’s so thick, it makes my skin itch.
Shifting on my feet, I stare into Archer’s eyes as if that’ll give me an advantage. “What is this?” I ask again, my voice harder.
For several long seconds, no one speaks, and when Archer finally responds, I nearly fall on my ass.
“We’re letting you go.”
I blink and take a step back, my heart racing in my chest. “What?”
“We have no use for you anymore.”
Ouch.
Those words hurt more than they should.
“There’s obviously no one willing to pay the ransom or give us what we wanted. You’re free to leave.”
