I rolled my shoulders, seeking to loosen the tension in my muscles. My body was coiled tight with the pressing need to get back to her. I wouldn’t touch her ever again, but I had to watch her today. I had to make sure she didn’t go to the cops or tell her daddy about what the monster had done to her in the dead of night.
I can tell that you have been hurt. Her strange words played through my mind, tingeing my thoughts with a hot mixture of shame and anger. Despite everything I’d done to her, she’d pitied me.
She’d pitied me.
I allowed myself to be consumed by my anger, the familiar heat of rage lending me strength.
Fuck this. I was done dicking around with this Russian bastard. He wasn’t going to say anything, and I had more important places to be.
I shouldered my cousins aside and slashed my knife in a smooth arc, slitting the man’s throat. Hot blood sprayed my face and coated my hand.
If Alexandra could see me now, she wouldn’t dare pity me. She’d scream and sob in terror.
My stomach twisted.
“What the fuck?” John demanded. “He didn’t talk yet.”
“He wasn’t going to,” I said coldly. “Dump him somewhere his friends will find him.”
Paulie cussed at me, but I ignored him.
I turned my back on the gore, leaving my sadistic relatives to clean up the mess. No matter if I was disgraced, I was still the heir. And they wouldn’t dare question me again. Not today, at least.
Once I got what I needed on Fitzgerald, no one would ever question my loyalty again. I would be worthy, respected.
I just had to ensure that Alexandra didn’t put me behind bars first.
Chapter 4
Allie
“You’re late, Freckles.”
I jolted and gasped for breath as Max’s furious, twisted face filled my vision.
“Jesus, you look like shit.”
I recognized Gavin’s voice. My bully had said the mocking nickname, not my fierce captor. I wasn’t in that dank basement; I was in the U.S. Attorney’s Office, rushing to see my boss so that I could make my feeble excuses for being late.
I automatically curled my hands to fists to hide the fact that my fingers were trembling from the sudden rush of residual terror. Don’t show weakness.
With effort, I forced my lungs to expand on a deep breath and relaxed my stiff shoulders. I schooled my face to a carefully neutral expression and turned to face my longtime tormentor.
“Good morning, Gavin.” I greeted him coolly, as though he was just another colleague and he hadn’t insulted me in the middle of the office.
I glanced around, the quick darting of my eyes betraying my nervousness. Had anyone overheard him? It would’ve been obvious to anyone paying attention that I’d rushed into work almost an hour late, but the prospect of being ridiculed by my bully in front of senior staff made my face heat with the first blush of mortification.
Damn it, now my cheeks were pink. I’d learned to mostly control my body language when enduring Gavin’s cruelty, but I’d never been able to master the flush of my alabaster skin. And after looking in the mirror this morning, I knew it was even paler than usual. Dark circles smudged beneath my eyes, and my freckles were more pronounced than ever, covering my face like splattered mud. I’d been in such a rush to get out the door that I’d barely taken time to put on minimal makeup. Over the years, my carrot-red hair had darkened to a merciful shade of copper, but my lashes and brows were still a soft ginger color. Without makeup to define those hated features, I looked like a washed-out mess.
My appearance didn’t even begin to mirror the extent to which I felt like a mess on the inside. My mind was a fear-addled wreck, jittery thoughts skittering across my consciousness. I’d barely managed to collect myself enough to walk with my head held high: a shadow of professionalism. Gavin sensed my distress like a shark scenting blood in the water. I hadn’t even made it to Mr. Callahan’s office to apologize in person, and my tormentor had already pounced.
“I have work to do.” I tried for a frosty tone, and to my credit, I managed to lift my chin and look him squarely in his navy-blue eyes. They danced with cruel amusement, and his pearly white grin tilted at one corner. With his dark blond hair perfectly styled and his impeccably tailored suit absolutely wrinkle-free, I appeared even more haggard standing in his vicinity.
“Looks like someone started the weekend early. I didn’t think you were a party girl, but coming into work hungover?” He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “You surprise me, Freckles. You were always so lame in high school.” His eyes raked down my body, scoring a stinging trail everywhere his judgmental gaze landed. “You know, I was actually starting to think you were kind of hot. Turns out you need a pound of makeup to look halfway decent. You always were a pale freak.”