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“It’s none of your business. You had your chance and you fucking blew it.” A pained cry slips from my lips as the burn intensifies. “Jesus, this hurts so bad.”
Zak holds his gun up to the side of my head. “Just because I haven’t blown your cover yet doesn’t mean I won’t still. You’ve got a lot to lose, especially with Tyson Van Dyne as your fiancé. If I expose you, your family is finished, and this guy?” He nods his head to the dead guy sprawled on the floor. “There will be more of him. More guns. More death. You really wanna be responsible for that?”
My good arm gives out and I slip forward on my sweaty palm, crashing into the floor. I yelp at the pain that shoots down my arm when it hits the ground. “I hate you so much for what you did to me, but that’s all in the past. You can’t touch me anymore. I don’t have a medical career to protect. I don’t have a future at all other than being a fucking trophy wife for the most insufferable ass on the planet, next to you. So threaten me all you want, but this wedding is going to happen.”
“Things have changed. Trust me, you’ll do everyone more damage by staying.”
I glare at him. “Take that gun away from my head. We both know you’re not going to pull the trigger.”
He only presses the barrel harder into my temple. “You’re going to get up and walk the fuck out that door or I will carry you.”
I smack the gun away from my head. “My family needs this wedding to happen.”
“I think your family would rather keep you alive.” His lips pull into a tight line. “They already lost one daughter.”
My jaw drops. “Don’t you dare bring Laney into this. Nobody is trying to killme.”
“They will if they think you’re in bed with the enemy.” His breath is hot against my cheek. He reaches behind my head and tugs my hair, pulling me close. “And you have no idea how much heat that’ll bring on your father. The only way you can save them is by coming with me.”
“Why the hell should I trust you? All you’ve ever done is hurt me. It’s all you know how to do, you sadistic bastard.”
“You don’t have a choice, Skyla. You’ve always been the good girl, the one who does what everyone wants. So you’re gonna get up and come with me. Otherwise, you know what I’ll do.”
“If Tyson finds out I’m gone—”
“Tyson tried to have me killed last night,” Zak growls. “If Tyson finds out anything else I might share, do you know what that means for you and your family?”
Memories of Tyson shoving his cock down my throat and making threats against me for simply dreaming about Zak come rushing forward like a wave careening toward the shore. I know all too well what he’d do if he found out about… everything.
“It was four years ago. He wouldn’t care. We weren’t together back then.” But even as I say the words, I know the timeline would mean nothing to a guy like Tyson. What happened would still humiliate him to this day, taint his reputation, and fuck with the perception of power and control he’s created.
Zak’s lips curl into a menacing smirk. “You really wanna take that chance?”
A long minute passes. Zak is a vindictive motherfucker. He uses people to get what he wants—I know that firsthand. He doesn’t give a damn about me beyond what I can do for him, and while I may be part of his agenda, I also know that part of my dad’s agenda is protecting my family… and keeping the Van Dynes quiet.
If Zak follows through on his threats, there’s no guarantee that’ll happen, marriage or not.
Zak is right. I have to go. I don’t have a choice.
“If Tyson thinks I just took off and jilted him, he will destroy my family.”
Zak lifts an eyebrow. “There’s enough evidence right in this room that will tell a very different story about why you suddenly went missing.”
I use my good hand to wrench Zak’s fingers away from my hair. “For fuck’s sake, let me go while I still have hair left.”
He drops my hair, his eyes lazily caressing my hunched over and half-naked body.
“So you’re kidnapping me.”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Revenge.” He breathes the word and it hits my cheek like the most sensual touch. Anything this man says makes me feel that way. And my God, I hate myself for admitting it.
“So you kidnap the bride and then what? What’s your end game? What do you want from the Van Dynes?”
“No more questions.” His expression darkens, ice frosting over his gaze.
