Chapter 3
Run!It’s a new impulse, something I’ve never felt around Robert. He’d never let me escape, but this man…
He waits until I’ve rolled onto my side, flailing for the edge of the mattress, before he lunges, seizing a handful of my hair. One hard yank rips me from the bed, forcing me to my knees. I land hard, tasting blood but too stunned to scream.
“Who?”
The grated question rings out unanswered. With a hiss of irritation, he finds the truth himself by bunching the sleeves of my blouse and pulling. His first attempt knocks me forward and only my palms save my face from a nasty meeting with the floor. His second yank strips me bare. I’m not wearing a bra and instinct drives me to hunch over, which displays my back to the creature pacing behind me.
My face may have fooled him, but my body does not. Years of abuse betray me. Hissing his rage, the soldier is forced to admit the ruse.
“Fuck. Vanya!” The door opens seconds later and two men race inside, stopping just short of where I’m kneeling.
“Look,” their leader commands, his tone casual. As if this really were a game. Hide-and-seek, maybe? Only he’s lost the round. “Does she look like an heiress to you?”
Air lashes my back as he moves. Seconds later, his fingers are in my hair and he tugs my head back, forcing my gaze to the ceiling. My eyelids flutter, shrouding the shape of him hovering on the outskirts of my vision.
“Her face is convincing,” he declares begrudgingly. “But this bitch is no Winthorp. I know the mark of Robert’s whores when I see them. She was a decoy.”
He shoves me aside and I wind up facedown, tasting dust.This bitch is no Winthorp.Some small part of me snickers at that. It’s like knowing a secret no one gives a damn about. A tiny, little detail that makes his statement a lie.
Not that it matters.
“Get out.” He’s not talking to me. No… This man and I are not through with our game.
His boot strikes my hip, knocking me onto my side. Blurred vision gives me a few seconds of reprieve. And even though I can’t see his face, my imagination has no trouble conjuring an expression to match his coarse tone.
Eyes like fire and a fearsome scowl.
“I would have shown mercy to Briar,” he admits while his shadow looms above, lacking all definition. “She did not ask for this. But you…”
He stoops to clutch my shoulders and drag me up to his level. I taste vodka on his breath, which perfumes the air as his features come back into focus.
“You. How much money did he offer you, hmm? What was your soul worth?”
My soul?Sluggishly, my brain pieces together what he means. Bought. He thinks Robert Sr. bought me to be his daughter’s double. He thinks the man would be that kind. That generous.
The truth is much crueler. You don’t buy a sacrifice.
“Whatever it was,” the man continues, “I hope every penny was worth the pain you will suffer in her place.” His nails graze my skull as he lets me go and stands. “Tell me what you know and I’ll consider making your death quick.”
“N-nothing.” The truth spills out of me in a broken whisper. Nothing. I know nothing.
“We look alike,” Briar told me. That was all. “Like sisters…”
I’m so lost in the memory that I don’t register him moving until it’s too late. Brutal fingers circle my throat and clench. Like a rag doll, I’m wrenched to my feet. Shoved back. I fall. Hit something soft…
And then unmovable steel pins me down. He’s more than heavy. He’s a battering ram, crushing me to the mattress. What little air I suck into my lungs has no escape and forms a plug at the base of my throat.
He squeezes until stars appear, dancing through the air and obscuring his face. Hisface. For some reason, I force my burning eyes to refocus, seeking out as much detail of it as I can. I always thought Robert would be the one to kill me. Not a stranger, his gaze like midnight.
I’m dying. I feel it—my limbs jerk, controlled by instinct. Blood surges to my head. My pulse hammers against my eardrums. Right as my vision begins to fade, the pressure loosens a fraction. Just enough for me to suck in air again.
“I’ve been patient, Little One,” he murmurs as I sputter. “Perhaps you need more incentive?”
My breast. He cups it, capturing the flesh against his palm, grazing my nipple. There’s no ownership, like how Robert likes to caress me. Just rough, slow possession. I feel his nails, pinching and sharp.
“I will give you one more chance to tell me what you know,” he says. “All of it.”