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Rowan, Diaz’s henchman, stepped out in front of her, his weapon pointed between her eyes.
She darted, running blindly, weaving through the equipment. She had no idea where she was or where an exit was—all she knew was she couldn’t go out the same way she’d entered.
More shouting, more footsteps.
Her heart was in her throat as she sprinted to the other side of the dome. She saw a door and ran faster.
Her legs screamed in protest and her lungs burned, but she couldn’t stop.
She ran straight for it. She didn’t look at anything around her; she couldn’t risk losing a second. Even if she managed to get out of the dome, she’d need to get out of the woods alive, but at least she’d have more cover.
Just get to the trees, she told herself.
She was almost at the door when Dominic stepped in front of her.
Anna skidded to a halt as he raised his weapon.
Her eyes darted around wildly like a trapped animal.
“Stop,” he commanded. His words, and his hard eyes, pinned her in place.
She was trapped, and they both knew it.
Anna knew what would come next.
She met his gaze and looked deep into his cunning eyes.
I will not scream. I will not give them what they want.
I’m sorry, Olivia.
She’d failed her, failed their father, failed Jackson—but she would at least die with dignity.
She would not beg for mercy.
Anna didn’t move. She didn’t take a step forward, nor a step back. She held Dominic’s gaze. She wouldn’t show him a whisper of fear, because he would enjoy that.
“I told him... I told him you couldn’t be trusted,” Dominic said, still looking at her. “Tie her to the pole,” he demanded, gesturing his head to his right.
Anna still didn’t look away.
She thought about Jackson’s words, and his belief that everything would be okay, that this wasn’t how their story ended. How wrong he had been. His story would end differently, perhaps, but not hers.
She couldn’t blame him nor anyone else for this. She’d been tempting fate for years.
Hands roughly grabbed her from behind, her skin burning under his hard grip. She knew it was Diaz from the scent of his cologne, and when he whispered in her ear, there was no mistaking it.
“What are you doing here, Anna?”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t have an answer that would help her.
“Anna, what are you doing here?” Diaz asked, his eyes wild.
She met his gaze. “Learning the truth about who you are and what you’re doing.”
“How did you know to come here?” he growled, yanking her arms down behind her back.
Her mind reeled, but she knew her fate. She would not get out of this alive, so she might as well be honest. She wanted to see Diaz’s face when she told him she’d played him all these years. That was the only triumph she would get.
