Page 150 of Downfall

“This is appropriate is it?” I reply trying not to think about the fact that he’s essentially stripped me all but naked while I was out.

“My shirt.” He says. “My clothes.”

I shake my head at what is a pathetic attempt at asserting dominance. But as I do it I realise my ring is gone. That it’s no longer on my hand. He’s taken it, removed it while I was unconscious and that hurts me more, because I know what that ring meant to Roman, and more than that, it’s what it represents. What we’d agreed. It was a symbol of our whole future and Darius has no doubt tossed it away like it means nothing.

“Why am I here?” I look around again. I can’t be sure but judging by the decor I’d put money on us being in the Governor’s House.

“You’ve been out for a few hours so let me bring you up to speed with events.” He smiles but it feels more of a smirk. “Roman is no longer with us. The Montague’s have been neutralised. And you belong to me now.”

I let out a half laugh moving to stand. “You really think that’s the case? That I’m just going to agree to that?”

Darius walks up to me, grabbing me before my still drug-addled body can properly respond and then he’s pulling me back, onto the couch, with his arms around me. I kick away but his grip holds me. He takes his phone out, holds it in front of me and presses play.

I can’t help but watch it. It’s Roman’s Range Rover. It’s driving over the bridge where we crashed and then suddenly something massive careens into it, smashing it off the side. I moan shaking my head, refusing to believe it but unable to deny it either.

“I took a leaf out of your boyfriend’s book. It seemed an effective way to remove Paris so why not make the same move on Roman?”

I gulp as a wave of crippling grief hits me.

He’s dead.

Gone.

Waves of emotion hit me like a tsunami.

“No.” I gasp clapping my hands to my mouth. “No.”

“Yes.” Darius practically purrs. “Roman is dead. And you are mine now.”

I shake my head, glaring at him through the tears that are already streaming uncontrollably down my face. “Just kill me. Kill me and get it over with.”

He lets out a chuckle stroking my cheek with his fingertips. “Why would I do that Rose when I want you warming my bed?”

I jerk my chin back. “I don’t want you. I never wanted you. Whatever you think you’re achieving here…”

His hand slaps me into silence.

“You are going nowhere but my bed.” He snarls. “You will smile, you will simper, you will do everything from now on solely to please me.”

“I will not.”

He slaps me again, the sting is harsher this time. I shudder, clutching my cheek. Paris used to hit harder than that. It’s a ridiculous thing to think, to compare him, but that’s the thought in my head. If he means to bully me into submission then he should know how many years of training I endured at his nephew’s hands.

We stare at one another, as if we’re waiting for the other to break and then he picks up a bell from the table beside him, ringing it loudly and the noise clangs in my head like an echo.

The door opens Sampson of all people walks in, with his hand gripping my daughter’s shoulder so she can only move as he directs.

“No.” I cry. I don’t know how he has her but my heart breaks at the fact that she’s here. That she’s in danger because of me.

Her hair is sprawled, her face is so ashen from fear. She’s trembling under his massive grip. I can see how much she is physically shaking but Sampson only seems to grip harder.

“Lara.” I cry springing from the couch but my legs don’t work. It’s like they’ve not yet got the message that the sedative is gone. I half stumble and Darius grabs me from behind wrapping his arms around me and pulls me back against his body.

“Let her go.” I say.

He takes in a deep inhale of my hair and murmurs ‘no’.

“She’s a child.” I hiss.

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