Page 43 of Goldsin

Before I can react, his long fingers wrap around my arm like iron bands, yanking me toward him with a force that makes me gasp.

“But before we can have our fun, you need to be punished,” he growls.

In one swift motion he hoists me over his shoulder. I kick my legs uselessly in the air as I struggle to break free.

“Put me down, you arrogant creep!” I pound my fists against his broad back in a futile attempt to make him loosen his grip.

Even Emeric seems surprised by Julian’s sudden hostility. To my annoyance, he doesn’t make any move to intervene.

“Keep it up,” Julian drawls. “I always did enjoy a challenge.”

His words only serve to fuel my anger, and I redouble my efforts to escape.

I twist and squirm in his grip like a wild animal caught in a trap. But Julian is relentless, his hold on me unwavering as he carries me through the corridors of Victoria’s cabin. The murmur of distant voices and moans provides a haunting soundtrack to my humiliation.

“Let go of me!” My voice cracks with desperation, my nails clawing at Julian’s unyielding grip. “You have no right to treat me like this!”

“Tell me what you’re hiding, and maybe I’ll consider it,” he shoots back. “Until then, you’re going to listen to me whether you like it or not.”

A rising tide of panic gnaws away at me.

It could be the rush of blood going to my head, or maybe my mother’s words haven’t really left my mind yet, but I swear his voice morphs into a deep, aged tone.

The voice of a monster.

I feel a dull ache in my chest, blood pounding in my ears.

“Master says I’m a good girl when I listen to him.”

“Master says I’m his little gift, and that gifts must be shared around. He likes sharing me a lot.”

“Master likes it more when I scream. So I scream. And I scream.”

“Master punished me today because I didn’t feel too well. He says punishments are necessary for stray girls like me.”

I draw in a sharp breath. A mask of blank terror blinds my vision.

I can feel the stares of onlookers as we pass through the crowded rooms. Their whispers only add to my growing sense of helplessness.

“Please,” I whisper. My voice is barely audible even to myself as tears threaten to spill over. “Please, just let me go.”

“Give me a reason.” His tone is cold. Unforgiving. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t drag you back home and tell Lucian you’re responsible for DeMarco’s death.”

Dread crawls up my spine as my gut churns at the implication.

“Because I didn’t kill him, Julian.” The words taste like bile in my mouth. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Then prove it,” he demands. “Tell me what you’re doing here tonight. Why you had someone else’s blood on you.”

But as much as Ilongfor him to let me go, for the chance to breathe without feeling the crushing weight of Julian Harrow, I know I can’t give him what he wants.

Because I killed DeMarco.

And now more than ever, I want to kill his father.

“Julian, please,” I beg. “Please don’t do this.”

“Sorry, love, but you’ve left me no choice.”

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