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The real reason behind what they were doing.
This wasn’t about righting the wrongs against them or getting justice.
No. This was about power and money. Their collective pasts gave them a reason to justify it all. The people they hurt. The blood on their hands. None of that mattered to them.
“You really had me feeling just a twinge of sympathy for you.” I barked a laugh and let out a long, languid sigh. “Jesus. You are all pieces of shit.”
“Watch your tone, young lady.” Remus growled. “Show some respect.”
Another laugh. “For you?” I scoffed and shook my head. “You know, the funny thing about history is it always forgets to mention the catalyst behind each takeover. Each decision. The one who whispers in the ear of the monarchy. The snake in the tree tempting Eve. Anne Boleyn. Cleopatra. Helen of Troy. Jezebel. The list goes on and on.”
I turned to Sheila. “So which one are you?” My gaze shifted to Marianne. “If you believe for one second that she did any of this for you—then you are a fool. Sheila doesn’t care about you. She is using you as a tool to do her bidding.”
Sheila remained calm in her seat. The Botox was really doing something for her. Marianne was redder than a ripe tomato. Her grip on the fork in her hand was tight. Enough that I could see her knuckles whiten as her anger took over. I had a feeling I was confirming something she had already been struggling with.
She didn’t like my confirmation.
“Maybe now’s a good time to teach that lesson, Kellan.” Sheila’s eyes turned to the man beside me.
Kellan’s lips turned up in a feral smile.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
CHAPTERTHREE
The moment Kellan reached for me, I struck.
Kellan cursed as the steak knife slashed across his right forearm. My chair toppled to the floor as I bolted from the dining room and into the open foyer. Sheila’s threat rang heavy in my mind as I madly dashed for the front door.
My bare feet slid to a stop on the polished wooden floor. I’d kicked off my hooker heels beneath the table before making my mad dash. Two of my grandmother’s guards blocked my exit, their arms crossed against their chests, wearing matching smirks. They were at least twice my size, with a good hundred or so pounds on me. I wasn’t going to let that stop me from cutting through them.
Theoretically.
I stared at the pair, doe-eyed and innocent, as my lips fell open slightly in fear as I took them in. The grins that spread across their smooshed potato faces told me they were buying what I was selling. “Please…” The small word fell from my trembling lips in a desperate plea.
One of the men took a step forward and tilted his head toward the dining room. “Get back in there before things get worse,” he advised me. “Go on.”
My parted lips twisted into a snarl, and the man’s eyes widened in surprise when I lunged forward, knife ready to strike. I couldn’t let them get on the offensive. The sudden, bold move was unexpected, and I managed to bury the knife in the thigh of the man closest to me before the second attacked.
“Little bitch,” the second man screamed. He reached out to snag me, but I was quicker. Striking out with my palm, I thrust the heel upward, giving a satisfied smile when I felt the bones of his nose crack beneath my stroke. “Fuck,” he cursed, his hand going to his nose.
With both men occupied with their wounds, I reached for the golden door handle, a triumphant smile on my face.
One step closer to freedom.
That was what I needed.
Just one step closer.
The handle was in my grasp, the cold metal turning beneath my hand as the hinges creaked beneath the weight.
One more step.
I could smell the fresh air burst through the crack in the door when it began to open. Pine and fresh rain washed over me, then—
A scream rent the air. Lightning surged through me, my breath rushing from my lungs. My muscles seized, my body pulling tight as I struggled to take in air. The floor rushed up to greet me, and I grunted painfully as I landed on the cold wood. The muscles in my neck strained painfully under my clenched jaw as my body writhed without my consent.
Some fucker had tased me.
