Page 48

Scarlett

M y eyes struggle to focus.

I blink. Then blink again before I realise half the issue is that I’m in darkness. Or semi-darkness.

I try to move, but it becomes more than apparent that I’m strapped down, spread-eagled. And completely lacking clothes - again.

I take a deep breath, recollecting more thoughts, trying to stave off the panic for a moment as I make a plan.

But there is no plan. At least not one for this particular moment.

I have to wait. I have to endure. I have to survive whatever the fuck this is until the day, until we’re there, at the equinox.

The end we’ve all been focused on. The end we all know is coming.

“Sscarscarlett?”

Rafe’s voice makes me freeze.

What the fuck is he doing here, wherever here is?

I turn my head, realising that what I’ve been staring at isn’t an entirely blank wall. No, there are chains, secured and fixed and at the bottom, where the stone floor meets the brickwork is a shadow. A man.

“Rrrafe?” My voice sounds weak, strained, like I’ve been screaming for hours on end and my vocal chords are fucked.

“Jesus,” Rafe gasps. “You’re alive. You’re… I thought he’d drugged you, thought he’d…”

“I’m okay.” I reply, though that’s not actually true. I’m not okay. I’m so far from it.

I’m furious, angry, and so horribly aware of everything that has happened, everything I’ve endured in this cursed house at the hands of my fake-husband.

I try to move again, and the ropes wrapped around my limbs refuse to budge.

“Fuck,” I snarl before dropping my neck, because the effort of holding it up feels like it’s giving me whiplash. “How long have we been here?”

“Since yesterday.”

Yesterday. I remember it, remember him. Remember being so calm, so collected. I know my behaviour had psyched him out. He thought he’d have to fight me, have to beat me into submission.

But I wasn’t stupid enough to pick a battle I couldn’t win.

No, I knew what cards to play, how to manage him. He thinks I’ve been a victim this entire time, he thinks he’s been the one pulling all the strings, but what he doesn’t realise is that very soon the entire board is going to flip.

And then we’ll see what Alexander Forster is really made of.

I let out a laugh, let it echo around the hollow space.

I guess we’re in the dungeons. It makes sense to keep us here, contained.

It’s too soon to do the dirty deed, too soon to bump me off.

If I die now, all my millions will revert to nothing, to no one.

He needs me to be of age, to reach my maturity according to the trust-fund my parents established, to ensure he gets the entire pot of gold.

“They’ll be down soon.” His voice sounds ominous, but worse than that, he sounds almost defeated.

“They?” I whisper before my mind tells me who he means. Alexander and Vincent. The dream team.

“Having a nice little catch up, I see?”

My body jolts. Adrenaline seems to electrify me as his voice hits me. He takes slow deliberate steps, no doubt revelling in this moment of perceived victory.

As he steps into the room, he twists the lantern in his hand, turning the gas up enough for the room to fill with a warm, almost soothing glowing light.

My eyes meet Rafe’s across the expanse, and I can see the bruising, the cuts.

He looks like he’s been in one hell of a fight.

He’s chained the wall, just as I guessed.

He’s been stripped, his shirt or top or whatever he had on, is gone and his bare chest is exposed, as are his tattoos.

The mangled skin of his scar catches the light with an eerie shine.

Did Alex do that to him? Did he beat him up after he drugged me? I can’t see how that was possible, how Alex could have overpowered Rafe.

But if Rafe was looking for me, if he put himself in danger…

I force that thought back down. I don’t have time to dwell on this shit right now. I need to stay present. I need to focus.

Can he get free? Can Rafe get us both out of here?

Would I even allow that? No, I can’t. Despite what I know I’m facing, I have to be here, I have to endure this. I need to stick to the plan.

Alex steps between us, blocking us from one another with his body.

“My dear wife,” He says, cupping my cheek.

I snarl before spitting at him. “I’m not your wife.” I hiss. “We never had a marriage, not a legal one anyway. You forged my signature. Nothing about it is binding.”

He shakes his head with his usual smirk plastered across his face. “My lawyer bore witness to it, Love.” He replies. “He will swear on oath that you were present, aware, and more than capable of consenting to it.”

Of course he will. I bet he’ll be paid handsomely out of my money to ensure he sings whatever tune Alex tells him to.

More footsteps echo and I cast my eyes over Alex’s shoulder expecting to see Vincent, only it’s Irene standing there, looking just as sour-faced as usual.

I don’t know whether to feel honoured or repulsed by her presence.

I knew she was in on all of this, I knew she was more than aware of what her husband and her son were doing.

It was why she so conveniently slipped off whenever ‘those nights’ would happen.

She didn’t want to see it firsthand, didn’t want to sully her head with the nastier details.

Fucking bitch . I’m looking forward to the moment I can claw at her powdered face. The moment I can rip her perfectly coiffed hair out by the roots.

“I told you I would deal with this.” Alex says stiffly to her.

She sniffs, meeting his gaze before she drops her eyes to her other son. The one chained up like a criminal.

“I can’t believe you…” She hisses before she lashes out, landing a nasty scratch across Rafe’s cheek.

“Get your fucking hands off him.” I scream before I can stop myself.

Alex laughs, squeezing my face so tightly tears well in my eyes. “Now, isn’t that sweet? You getting all protective. You know it’s pointless, right? You know that soon both of you will be dead?”

I snarl back, trying to get free from his grasp. My eyes land back on Rafe’s mother. On how she’s standing there, acting like she’s okay with that. Okay with seeing her child murdered.

“He’s your son.” I scream. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He’s no son of mine.” She spits back. “As far as I’m concerned, he can rot in hell.”

What the fuck is she talking about? Does she really hate him that much? And for what?

“You don’t get it, do you, Scarlett?” Alex says, his voice dropping an octave, becoming that seductive lilt that sets my teeth on edge. “You don’t know what he’s done, do you?”

I shake my head before I can think not to.

He laughs again, turning my face to look at Rafe as if whatever it is, is so awful that even I will despise him for it.

“Look around the room, tell me who is missing from this scene?”

What? I frown glancing from Rafe back to his brother. And then it hits me. Who is no t here. Who is markedly absent.

Vincent. Where the fuck is Vincent? What God awful things is he up to right now?

“He’s dead, Scarlett.” Alex says pointedly. “My father is dead. And Rafferty is the one who did it.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He’s dead?

I let out a laugh, I practically sing with joy as those words hit me. Vincent is fucking dead!

And Alex responds immediately by slamming his fist hard into my rib cage. “You bitch.” He spits. “You think you’re laughing now, but you won’t be, not when you realise what it means for you.”

“What does it mean?” I gasp, choking on the little air that is left in my lungs.

He grips my hair, yanking my head at an impossible angle and I swear my neck might just snap from the force.

“It means, wife, that now I can do whatever I want to both of you. Now, there’s no one whispering in my ear to spare my poor little brother. No one telling me to play nice…”

Like he has been so far.

I stare back at Rafe, hating the way my body is trembling. Afterall, what do I have to fear? I’ve already faced every horrific thing imaginable. Whatever Alex does to me now, it can’t be worse than what I’ve already lived through.

“Make them pay.” Irene screams. “Make them both fucking pay.”

Her voice carries like a bad wind, echoing off the cold stone walls as she storms out.

As the heavy door slams behind her we all stay here, in that awful silence she leaves behind.

“I should make you pay, alright.” Alex says. “I should make you suffer.” He grabs my face, yanking it so hard white-hot pain shoots up my spine. “You killed my child.”

“It wasn’t yours.” I hiss. Even though I have no real logic to those words. It could have been his. It could have been his father’s too. My stomach twists at that thought, at the notion that I was carrying Vincent’s child.

With his other hand he lands a blow right into my belly and if I could, if the ropes allowed it, I know I’d be doubled over in pain.

“You killed my child.” He snarls again.

I stare up at him, confusion swirling. Why they fuck is he even saying that? Why would he even care? He’s going to kill me. This marriage isn’t even a real one.

He hits me again. And again.

I scream out as the pain becomes unbearable and then one final blow to my face makes everything go blank.

“Wanna see it, brother?” He says with that awful grin twisting across his face. “Wanna see what she really is?”

His voice rings out. Taunting, bringing me back out of my semi-conscious state. I blink furiously, forcing my eyes to focus. Forcing my mind to work.

And with horror I realise where I am, where we both are.

That it wasn’t some fucked up drug induced hallucination. That we’re really here, chained up, in a dungeon. And Alex, Alex is here, holding court, like he’s some god deciding our fates.

He holds up the syringe in front of my face and I swear my entire body locks up.

I know what it is, what it contains, and worse, I know exactly what will happen if he injects me with that shit.