Page 6 of Goldrage
I can’t imagine who she thinks might try to rescue me. Lorenzo is dead. Valentine was dragged away and will probably be locked in a room tomorrow. Maybe she’sworried Adrian might somehow escape Julian and come for me. The thought sends a flutter of desperate hope through my chest before reality crushes it. Adrian was bleeding out when Julian carried him away. Even if he survived, he’s in no condition to rescue me. He’s probably not even conscious right now.
No one is coming for me this time.
The acceptance should feel like defeat, but instead, it brings an odd sort of peace. I’ve been running and fighting and scheming for so long. Maybe it’s time to stop.
Maybe I can just… let go.
Lady Harrow ends her call and turns to face me. Her smile is serene and almost maternal. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow, dear? I’ve planned something truly special for you.”
I meet her gaze without flinching, but it takes some effort to get words out through the pain. “Go… fuck… yourself.”
She laughs. “Such language. Your mother had more class, even at the end.”
The mention of my mother makes me burn with rage, but I don’t react. I won’t give her the satisfaction.
Lady Harrow walks closer. “She begged, you know. Once she had you, she begged Lucian to bring you back. She even dropped to her knees and promised to do anything he wanted. But can you imagine? Whathadn’the done to her by then?”
I clench my jaw.Stop. Talking.
“He refused, of course. Told her that bastard children didn’t deserve?—”
A crash echoes from the hallway outside, followed by raised voices. Lady Harrow freezes mid-sentence, her head snapping toward the door. Something heavy hits the floor with a loud thud that rattles the windows.
“What the hell?” she mutters, moving toward the door.
Before she can reach it, the door explodes inward with enough force to slam against the wall. Lady Harrow stumbles backward, her composure finally slipping.
My heart is in my throat as I dare to look at who just entered—enemy or savior?
But it’s not a guard or Valentine or Adrian or anyone I would expect in a million years.
It’s Eleanora.
My best friend strides into the room like she owns it, dressed head to toe in a black jumpsuit that clings to every curve and allows a complete range of movement. Her long dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail that gives her a facelift, and her amber eyes burn with a cold fury I’ve never seen before.
This isn’t my fashion-obsessed friend who cries over rom-coms and kind of loves to gossip. This woman moves with predatory grace, like I’m witnessing the real-life Catwoman.
“Eleanora?” I gasp, my voice rolling over gravel. “What are you—How did?—”
“Get out,” Lady Harrow hisses, recovering from her shock. “Get out before I have you removed.” She opens her mouth to yell for the guards.
Eleanora’s hand moves swiftly, drawing a gun from aholster at her hip and pointing it directly at Lady Harrow’s chest.
The pain didn’t make me pass out, but this might. Since when does Eleanora handle a gun like she was born holding it?
Secrets.
Why does everyone around me have secrets?
“You have exactly ten seconds to step away from my friend,” Eleanora says, her voice carrying an authority I didn’t know was inside her. Gone is the breathless way she usually speaks when excited about fashion or complaining about men. This voice could cut diamonds.
Lady Harrow’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t move. “You foolish little girl. Do you have any idea who you’re threatening?”
“Liora fucking Harrow,” Eleanora replies without missing a beat. “Murderer. Manipulator. And currently standing between me and someone I care about.” Her grip on the gun doesn’t waver. “So yeah, I know exactly who you are, bitch.”
I’m gaping like a fish. This can’t be the same woman who once spent twenty minutes debating between two nearly identical shades of purple nail polish. The same friend who once called me in tears because she couldn’t figure out how to use her new coffee machine.
Heavy footsteps thunder down the hallway. Lady Harrow’s face transforms with relief as three guards burst into the room, weapons already drawn.
