Page 188 of Ruin Me With Lies
To them, I’m about as threatening as a house gecko—annoying, but harmless.
Something’s not adding up here...
“Why are you so worked up?”I press.“What do you care if I walk away or not?You had me on the Kill List months ago.I thought you’d be relieved to not have to deal with me ag—”
“I’m pissed off because I wanted her to be wrong about you,” he grinds out.
Wait.Her?“Who?Soraya?Wrong about what?”
“That you aren’t a selfish, self-serving, money-grubbing, power-hungry piece of shit.”
“Well…” I tip my head from side to side.“Iamall of those things, so sheiswrong...”
The glare he daggers at me is a weapon on its own.
I lift my hands in surrender.
He storms back to the table and stabs a finger at my chest, punctuating each word with a hard jab.“You.Don’t.Deserve.Her.”
“You’re right about that, too.But, uh…” I stand up to meet him eye to eye.“A moment ago, you were threatening to kill her just to punish me.”
He lets out a dry, dark, humorless laugh.“I would chop off my own arm before I hurt that girl, you fool.”
Say what now?“Who is she toTHE O, Pavlov?”
“SheisTHE O.”His jaw clenches, voice like stone.“Soraya Byrd is my fuckingdaughter.”
Before that revelatory bomb can fully detonate, he punches me square in the face.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Stefano
THE DOOR SWINGSOPENand a masked member stands on the other side, an AR strapped across his chest.“Let’s go, Nine.”
What the hell’s this ‘Nine’ shit all about?This is the third time someone’s called me that here.Would be interesting to know, sure, but not enough to derail my focus right now.All too happy to leave this white ass room, I follow the member out without questions or smart talk.Even if it’s to my death, I’ll take it.Hell’s bound to have more color than this sterile white asylum.
After Pavlov dropped that bomb, along with a bloody nose yesterday, he stormed out.Masked members came in and escorted me to a medical room to have my bloodied nose treated, then forced me to eat a lavish meal before locking me back inside the room I’d woken up in.Door sealed tight.
Until about an hour ago, when someone brought in a fresh change of clothes with the tags still on.
My phones and jewelry are missing, so I’ve got no concept of time.But going off a rough estimation, it’s been at least fifteen hours since my chat with Pavlov.More than enough time for me to come to terms with the fact that Raya—Soraya,is not only withTHE O, but is the daughter oftheworld boss.
Jhay Byrd.
How’s that even possible?How does the daughter of the most powerful people alive—whohatesmy guts—end up in my villa?Inmy life?In my bed?
Most importantly,why?
I’ve only ever seen JB once, years ago.On video while she issued me an “or else” warning for whatever shit I did at the time to piss her off.But her face is the kind you never forget.Lethally stunning.Stammeringly striking.Especially her eyes.
Knowing what I do now, it makes sense why Soraya seemed so familiar.She’s the perfect collision of her parents.Has JB’s striking features, but resembles Pavlov overall.
Yeah, that one fact answers a lot.Why she’s so skilled.Knows so much.Was steps ahead of us the entire time.Even so, there are still a shit ton more unanswered questions, if not more confusion.
Hopefully, wherever this masked fucker is taking me right now will get me more answers.If we ever fucking get there.This place is a goddamn stark-white maze.He leads me from one hall to another to another.Through one door…then another…then another...
No windows.No clocks.No glimpse of the outside.
