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Cem let loose a stream of Turkish curses before snatching my arm and dragging me into the closest room. Slamming the door closed, he looked for something to wedge beneath the handle, but the only thing in the vast space was a massive stone table holding the biggest vase of flowers I’d ever seen.
I’d been in here once before, and it was pointless. I didn’t know what it was used for. Just another example of too much wealth. Too much space to be given an actual purpose.
“Fuck,” Cem hissed. Dragging me to the back of the room, the bay window revealed more shadowy men slinking over the manicured box hedges outside.
Without a word, he shoved me against the wall.
Spinning to face the unlocked door, he yanked two guns from the holster hastily strapped over his black nightshirt.
He’d been asleep.
He’d been in bed.
Where were his guards?
“Where is everyone?” I whispered.
“At war,” he panted. His eyes met mine, and in a split-second decision that changed both our lives, he passed me one of his guns.
I froze.
My fingers curled around the weight of it.
The mother-of-pearl handle sat like a glacier in my palm. The healing scar from the blood bind I’d sworn as his heir itched and every single despicable moment of the past five years rose and crashed over me.
I gasped as every pain, every cut, every agony crested, broke, and then washed away.
Leaving me empty like the day he’d broken me.
Pure of mind, escaped from expectation...
Free.
I sucked in the quietest, coldest breath.
I shivered.
Cem didn’t notice, his attention locked on the door. “Shoot anyone who appears. We can kill them if we work together.”
Kill?
Yes, he was good at that.
He’d almost killed me.
He had killed me as far as Neri was concerned.
And now, he’s going after her.
After my daughter.
He’ll brainwash them like he did me.
He’ll torture them.
Hurt them.
Make them doubt their own thoughts and hearts.
