Page 111 of Breaking Point

“If I let you out, are you going to run?”

Considering how tired I feel, I doubt I’d be able to run if I tried.

Maybe that’s the point. They want me weak. Hungry. Desperate.

I say nothing, letting my eyes drift to the sound of footsteps approaching. The look on her face- almost a plea- confuses me, but it disappears when two guards step inside.

They cut the ropes binding my wrists. As soon as they’re loose, I rub at the raw burns before I’m shoved forward. I stumble after Sofia who twists on a stiletto heel away.

I try to memorize the path we take to the gleaming private elevator. Sofia inserts a key card, and the doors buzz. We descend to the third floor, and the doors openinto a grand ballroom.

I recognize it from one of the times I’ve visited. The only difference is that now it’s empty. No sign of any guests. We pass through the balcony doors to an arch of Plumeria blooms and green elephant-ear vines. Beneath it, there’s a stone table clad with silver platters piled with food.

Blue-painted china marks five places at the table. Sofia takes a chair, and it’s then that I see the man seated at the head of the table. My blood turns to ice.

The man from the hospital.

His steely grey eyes watch me with twisted concentration. I don’t realize I’ve stopped until the guards shove me into a seat. Strapping one of my wrists to the chair, they draw the rope tight before retreating to the doors.

Sofia’s face reveals nothing as the man clears his throat, scratching the stubble lining his chin. “Do you know why you’re here, Olivia?”

My father.

It’s my only conclusion. Taking one look at the men around me, I’d say it’s an apt one.

“Enlighten me.”

“My name is Donatello Rema. We’ve been watching you for some time now.” The confirmation rattles me. “Sorry to hear about your cat,” he drawls with a sick smile. “The fire too. Although it looks like you didn’t leave unscathed.”

“You are disgusting,” I spit, seething with resentment.

He merely laughs. “I’m sure you’re aware your father works with Oskar Benenati.”

At the mention of Skar, I feel my stomach drop again. Just the implication that this might not be about my Dad… It has my fingers flexing. My gaze shifts to Sofia, and it finally clicks. This is about the Benenatis.

Sofia, Aleks- it was all a ploy to get closer. And me?

Secrets kill. Secrets burn.

“More than a year of planning, but you just couldn’t keep your nose where it belongs. Could you?”

Even unintentionally, I stumbled onto something I shouldn’t have.

“What does my father have to do with this?“

“It was a miracle Harvey was able to pull it off. Getting close to Skar… We’ve tried and failed. I thought- surely- Skar would see right through him. I mean- the drugs alone…” Donatello laughs, and my resentment churns into hate. “Your father… There’s not a chance in hell he could have orchestrated this by himself. But Aleks proved to be gullible enough.”

“What do you want?” I ask, not wanting to hear any more.

His lips purse in distaste. “We’re being patient.”

It’s an effort not to reveal how my heart leaps. “What does that mean?”

He shrugs, the movement bored. “I should probably mention the fact that we have Aleksander as well.” Donatello snaps, and when the doors open and two guards carry in a limping Aleks, I shoot forward, but my restraints tugs me back.

He winces as they drag him to the table across from me, tying him down. I spy a distinct blue bruise across his face as his head sags. His brown eyes land on me tiredly.

Despite his obvious pain, he still smiles. “Olivia. I was really hoping to see you under different circumstances.”

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