Page 2 of Goldrage
“You dare speak his name?” Lady Harrow stands over me, her perfect face contorted with rage. “After everything you’ve done?”
I taste blood in my mouth but meet her gaze defiantly. I won’t cower to her ever again.
Her expression shifts and the rage gives way to something worse: pleasure. She smooths her dress, composing herself with practiced elegance, and then smiles. “The doctor said you’d survive a few days at least, so there will be a Consortium gathering tomorrow evening. Everyone is so eager to see what will become of the Golden One. And I must say, what I have planned will truly be my greatest show for them.” She laughs and I can’t stop myself from shivering.
Somehow, I doubt there will be champagne and caviar for me.
“I’ve planned something special,” Lady Harrow continues, circling me again. “A proper finale for your pathetic little revenge story.” She pauses, crouching beside me. Her fingers trace the line of stitches on my neck, pressing just hard enough to make me wince. “First, we’ll strip you bare before everyone. The men have been asking for that privilege for years.” Her perfectly manicured nail digs into my wound. “Then,we’ll let them have their fun. One by one. Just like your mother.”
I swallow and ball my hands into fists against the floor. The image of my mother, trapped and used by these monsters, floods my mind.
“After they’re satisfied, we’ll begin the real entertainment.” Lady Harrow’s voice drops to a whisper that’s so intimate it’s terrifying. “I’ve always wondered how long it takes for someone to die from a thousand cuts. We’ll find out together.”
I swallow again because, for the moment, I don’t see a way out of this. I’m too injured to fight. Lorenzo is likely dead. Julian doesn’t care about me and he’s holding Adrian captive, who’s too injured to help anyway. Valentine betrayed me…
There’s absolutely no one coming to make some big rescue. And I fear I won’t be able to rescue myself this time.
Is this really my end? After all these years fighting for something better,thisis how I go out?
Fear threatens to paralyze me, but I push it down, locking it away in that dark place inside where all my nightmares live. I might not get out of this, but I won’t go down easily.
“Julian won’t let you,” I say, even though I don’t believe it. But, really, that’s the only card I can play.
Lady Harrow laughs so hard she has to wipe moisture from her eyes. “Oh, my dear. My son has finally come to his senses.” Her eyes gleam with malicious triumph. “He chose his brother. He chose me. You werenever anything but a distraction—a pretty toy he’s finally outgrown.”
My heart aches but not because her words hurt me like she intended. I’m actually happy for Julian and Adrian. They’re brothers, so they should be together. I just hope Lady Harrow doesn’t come between them again; I hope Julian won’t let her. I don’t want Adrian to ever be alone with her.
Lady Harrow’s hands grip my shoulders, and her nails dig into my flesh as she forces me down and onto my stomach. I try to resist, but my body is too weak from blood loss and exhaustion.
“Stay down where you belong,” she hisses, pressing the tip of her high heel against my gunshot wound.
White-hot agony explodes through me. I cry out, unable to contain it, the sound echoing off the cold walls of the penthouse. Lady Harrow’s face transforms with pleasure at my suffering, her eyes dilating into black holes as she leans into the pressure.
“I’m sorry. Does that hurt?” she asks, grinding her heel deeper.
The pain spirals outward, consuming everything until the edges of my vision blur. In the haze, I see my mother’s handwriting dancing across the pages of her diary.
They burn me when I cry, so I’ve learned to smile through the pain. I wonder if this is how I’ll die—piece by piece, stripped away until there’s nothing left.
After everything I’ve done, everyone I’ve killed in her name, here I am meeting the same fate. The same monsters surround me. The same cruelty.
The sound of the elevator’s soft ding barely penetrates my awareness. But Lady Harrow hears it, her head snapping up.
“I told you we weren’t to be disturbed,” she snarls toward the hallway.
Footsteps approach. It’s not a guard though. My heart jumps when I recognize the gait of those boots.
A familiar voice inhales sharply across the room.
“Enough, Liora.”
Valentine’s voice breaks through my pain-induced fog. I force my eyes open to see him standing in the archway, his usually impassive face drained of color. His gaze moves from Lady Harrow’s heel pressed against my wound to the blood pooling around me.
“This wasn’t the plan,” he says, his voice tight.
Lady Harrow removes her heel from my wound but doesn’t step back. “Plans change, my love. Julian left her to me.”
My love?
