Page 4 of Crimson Wrath

Why else would he say that?

I feel my breath catch past the lump in my throat. I swallow hard as my eyes begin to prickle.

Keep it together, Scarlett!

Don’t cry.

Don’t fucking cry!

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I keep my tone surly. I can’t let him see me cracking.“And I don’t know anything aboutthekid.”

The man grabs me roughly by the throat, his grip bruising my flesh. “You’ll tell me where Nikolai Ulianov is, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”

“Go ahead! That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know where he is!” My voice is hoarse from the pressure on my windpipe. It hurts to breathe, but I’ll be damned if I let him see how much.

“Wrong answer.” Abruptly, his palm connects with my cheek, the slap snapping my head to the side and leaving my ears ringing. “Now tell me what I want to know.”

I shake my head, even though my eyes are watering. “I don’t know what the boy has to do with this. You have me. What more do you want?”

Probably the diamond, you idiot.

God, I’m such a fool. I don’t want to give up the stone – it’s my fresh start, after all – but I may be forced to at this rate.

There’ll be no fresh start if you’re dead, Scarlett.

“Stop fucking around and tell me where the Ulianov brat is!” he snarls into my face.

“I don’t know!” I snarl back. “But I wouldn’t tell you even if I did!” I twist my wrists against the pressure holding them behind the chair I’ve been strapped to.

Cable ties.

My mind runs through a series of possible escape scenarios. Each one is more futile than the last. What the hell am I supposed to do? Wriggle free, then slither through his legs and escape like a greased rabbit?

He grabs me by the hair and yanks my head back. “Speak – if you want to live,suka.”

Suka?

What the hell is a suka?

The last time I encountered Cartwright’s men, they were a lot less exotic. The band of bastards who hit Anton’s place were definitely not locals. Maybe he’s branching out.

Oh my God, Anton!

These motherfuckers killed him!

“I said speak!” he repeats, his grip tightening in my hair till tears well in my eyes.

“Your breath stinks,” I choke out at him. “What did you have for dinner? Shit sandwich?”

His fist connects with my jaw, almost knocking my wits straight out of me.

“Ooph!” is all I manage to get out.

Fuck.

That mouth, Scarlett!

It’s going to be the death of me. Quite literally.

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