Page 59

CHARLOTTE

T he room is swallowed by darkness, and the girls’ high-pitched screams slice through the silence, echoes rattling down the hallway and bleeding through the closed door.

Before the lights cut, I saw this was an office.

“Shit,” I hiss, thigh slamming into the edge of a desk.

The thumb slips from my grip.

I drop to my hands, feeling around. I can’t see a damn thing.

It’s silent.

Too silent. I expected his men to be on my tail.

I’m trained in a lot of things. Operating blind in pitch black wasn’t one of them.

He’s been watching me through the cameras. He knows I’m here. He knows I’m armed.

My heart pounds as I find the wall, sliding along it with one hand. The knife rests between my teeth. I feel for a switch.

A slow, agonizing creak breaks the silence.

The door opens.

I flatten against the wall, the rough plaster scraping my skin as I suck in a shaky breath.

Not a fucking sound.

Then, footsteps. Heavy. Slow. Measured.

The scent hits me—sandalwood. Rich. Clean. Familiar.

No.

No. No.

Another step. The air crackles. It’s like my body remembers.

My eyes shut. This isn’t real.

“I know you’re in here.”

My eyes fly open. My heart slams against my ribs like a war drum.

That voice.

Him.

His fist hits the wall, an earth-shattering thud that vibrates through my bones.

“There’s nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run.”

His Irish lilt is rougher now. Darker. Still laced with the power that once melted me.

The footsteps stop.

Silence wraps around us.

This is the last thing I wanted, not him. I wanted to be wrong so badly.

I draw the blade from my mouth, grip it tight in my fist.

I know where the door is. He took six steps.

I could run.

“You smell just like I remember,” he breathes in, deep, almost reverent.

My stomach knots. Every nerve flares.

“Decadent.”

The word drips from his lips like poison.

Jimmy.

A choked yelp slips out. I freeze.

I swear I hear him smile.

He’s alive. Not rotting in some Italian cell. I didn’t ruin him.

But it appears he became the devil. Or was he already that? Was everything in Italy just one big fucking lie?

Anger consumes me. Trust no one.

It all happens fast.

A blur of motion. Instinct takes over.

I run.

Blind toward the door. Just one second of grace. One miracle.

Only one of us leaves through those gates.

I reach for the handle?—

But a force slams into me, launching me backward. My head cracks against the wall.

Familiar hands wrap around my throat.

Not like that night.

Harder. Controlled. Deadly.

My lungs scream. I thrash, every limb fighting for breath, for air, for anything.

With a snarl, I yank my blade, but he’s faster. He slams my arm into the wall, bones screaming.

The knife clatters to the floor.

He chuckles. That same laugh that once made me alive is now slowly killing me. My hopes and dreams dying with each second.

He feels bigger. Stronger. Crueler.

“Quite the escape artist, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

His voice burns. My skull throbs.

I brace.

Then slam my head into his nose.

Crack.

Pain explodes across my forehead, but he lets go.

I hit the ground hard, gasping, clawing at my throat.

Desperately crawling to the exit, but I’m stopped when his legs pin me down.

He steps over me, looming, weight pressing into the floor beside me.

“Oh, now you want to act like a fucking animal?” he growls, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back.

“Maybe that’s exactly how I’ll treat you.”

“I—I can explain,” I gasp.

If he only knew. About Isabella. About everything.

Maybe if I stop fighting… maybe that’s my way in.

His hands grip my hips, rough and controlling. He drags me up like I weigh nothing.

His nose brushes my cheek, breath hot and cruel against my skin.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to join me in hell, heartbreaker,” he whispers.

“Welcome to Decadence.”

My blood runs cold.

Jimmy was never just Jimmy.

To meet Enzo in Italy, he had to be someone. Someone powerful. Connected.

Of course.

He lied as much as I did. Five years ago, we were both pretending. It’s a hard pill to swallow.

The Prince was never coming to save the Queen. It seems he wants to destroy her too.

I guess now it’s time to learn who we really are.

His hand clamps over my mouth with a cloth. My scream is swallowed.

My eyes plead with him. I need one chance to talk. Perhaps he has a shred of humanity left to listen.

He doesn’t let up, his hand smothering me, and each breath is now burning.

“Sweet dreams, baby. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

The last thing I hear before the dark takes me?—

A soft, eerie melody. Ringing like a lullaby in hell.