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“Your daughter,” I repeat through gritted teeth, “hasn’t seen you since she was too young to remember. You don’t even pretend that she exists. And you have the nerve to claim ownership of her in this way? She wasn’t good enough for you before, you rejected her and pretended she never even existed, but now she’s your precious daughter?”
“Silence!” he thunders, as shooting pain cascades through my nerves. I clench my jaw to stifle a scream when pain tears through me. He’s got me connected to chains that emit electric currents.
Motherfucker.
I grit my teeth and glare at him as he continues. I’m panting from the exertion when the pain stops.
“She disgusts me. A prostitute for hire when she worked at La Maison? An employee for your revolting club?” He shakes his head. “I wanted to punish you for having the gall to disrupt the calm of my city. I had one of the officers on our payroll infiltrate one of your businesses, pretending to be a client. He had the nerve to go too far, and Fabien decided to kill him, didn’t he?”
It takes me a minute to realize what he’s talking about. Fabien killed a man who attacked Nicolette. Montague’s hire?
“My daughter will pay for her shameful behavior. Wretched creature. I hoped thatyouwould kill her when you discovered she betrayed you, and things looked like they were going our way. But you didn’t, did you? Foolish man.” He shakes his head. Spittle flies from his mouth as he fumes. “You thwarted my plans. You had no idea she was working for me all along, did you?”
I tear at the chains that have me bound to the floor.
He’s lying. He can’t hate her and consider her despicable and also hire her to work for him.
Can he?
Would she?
“Let me go,” I seethe. “Then we can talk man to man.”
He likely knows that our “talk” would involve my hands around his throat. He only shakes his head.
“If it were that easy, why would I chain you to begin with?”
A door opens and I hear approaching footsteps. I look up to see one of Montague’s henchmen. I recognize the crooked nose, thin lips, and narrowed, beady eyes. I see him in my nightmares.
My torturer.
“Welcome back,” he says with a ruthless smile.
I bare my teeth at him. “Easy to say that when I’m bound in chains, isn’t it?”
He’ll go down first, and painfully.
“What is it?” Montague asks. “You know I don’t abide interruptions unless necessary.”
“So sorry for the interruption, but I have pertinent news.”
“Oh?” Montague gives him a curious look. “What’s that?”
He looks straight to me when he curls his lip. “We found her, sir.”
No.
I rattle the chains.“If you touch a fucking hair on her head—”
“Like you care?” Montague asks, his head tipped to the side. “You just found out she was working with me, didn’t you? You sent her away. You don’t want her.”
Something doesn’t sit right. Something’s wrong with this scenario. I know they drugged me, but I also know that they’re lying. I push through the fog and insist on what I know is true. “She isn’t working with you.”
“Do you say that because you believe it to be true or because you hope it is?” he asks, shaking his head from side to side. “Of course she is. Why do you think she lured Savannah out?”
It doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t have fabricated any of what we had.
The way she touched me. The way she told me in her gentle way how much she loves me. How devoted she already is to our baby.
