Page 93 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

STEPHANIE

T he words hit me like a sledgehammer.

“Your life for hers,” James repeats.

And then Finn nods. He doesn’t even hesitate. He nods.

“Is that all? Easy,” Finn tells him.

“Gun on the floor first Quinn, kick it away and get on your knees.” James orders.

“No, Finn!” The scream tears from my throat, shredded and broken. My whole body thrashes against the chair, wrists tearing at the restraints until the rope slices into my skin. “No, no, no!”

He looks at me then, his pale eyes finding mine. And his lips move.

“I love you.”

He does as James says. The moment his gun slides across the floor I fight the urge to throw up.

It wrecks me. I shake my head so hard it hurts, tears pouring down my face, my chest heaving as panic claws up my throat. My whole body is convulsing with the need to break free, to put myself between him and the bullet.

Because I would.

“Stop it!” My scream is hysterical, my voice nothing but cracked glass. “Finn, don’t you fucking dare! You can’t do this! Please!”

But he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look away. He lowers himself to his knees, his whole stance that of a man who has already made peace with dying.

James watches me unravel with something close to amusement.

“Touching, isn’t it? Almost makes me believe in love.” He strides over to Finn and presses the barrel harder into his chest, his smile venomous. “But love makes men weak. And weakness gets you killed.”

Arthur’s voice cuts through.

“James. Enough. This isn’t how we win.”

James tilts his head toward him, his scarred face twisting into something even more grotesque.

“Win? You really think you still have a side, brother? You’ve been bleeding us dry for years.

Surrendering scraps like some lapdog.” His good eye burns into Arthur as he steps closer to Finn.

“You should be standing with me. We could take it all back. Every territory. Every throne that was stolen from us. I couldn’t even trust you enough to bring you in on this scheme. ”

Arthur doesn’t answer. His chest heaves, hate in his eyes. None of it matters because all I can see is the gun aimed at Finn’s heart.

“Arthur,” James pushes. “This is your chance. Prove your loyalty. Prove you’re still a Bowen. Kill this Quinn scum and then shoot his wife.”

“Don’t you dare,” I choke out, thrashing until the chair rattles against the floor. My skin is raw where the rope bite, but I can’t stop. I can’t let this play out. “Arthur, please.”

Everything in me breaks.

And the world stops.

James turns his head to me, grinning like he’s savoring every second. “You’re about to watch your psycho husband die for you, Angel. Must feel special.”

My stomach twists.

But then I catch it. The tiniest flicker in Finn’s face, the subtlest edge to his smirk. He’s not surrendering. He’s baiting him. He’s playing James the way he plays everyone else.

It’s Decadence all over again. A trial. A game.

And James has no idea he’s already lost.