Page 89 of Uprising

My bullet cuts through the headboard, barely millimetres above her head, and she trembles, falling silent.

“Get up.” I repeat.

She pulls the sheets around her, stumbling to her feet. “Let me get a robe, please.”

I hate the way she begs. I hate the way it sounds. She’s so entitled, she just expects me to agree and though I want to tell her to shove it, I don’t want to see her naked.

“Make it quick.” I jerk my head to where the door to the ensuite is. I assume there’s a bathrobe in there.

She rushes in, and I hear the window sliding open which makes me laugh.

“It’s too far to jump Carla.” I say loudly. “You go out that window you’ll break your bony neck.”

She whimpers and then walks out pouting with a white robe wrapped around her body.

I grab her arm, yanking her out the room.

She yelps again, playing the victim. “Roman please…”

My anger flares as I fix her with a look.

“I wasn’t involved, I’m as much a victim in all of this as my daughter.”

“Don’t you dare.” I snarl shoving her hard into the wall. “You think I don’t know what you did? You think I don’t know that you were the one manipulating everything? Pretending to be me, telling Rose that I didn’t love her, telling her to abort our daughter.”

“I, that wasn’t me, Ignatio…”

I let out a laugh. “It’s not going to work Carla. You can’t talk your way out of this.”

She shakes her head and those crocodile tears start pooling in her eyes. “I only wanted the best for Rose. That’s what you wanted too. I just wanted her to be happy, to have the best in life…”

“And selling her to Darius gives her that, does it?”

She huffs. “He’s the Governor, he could give her everything she ever wanted, all her dreams.”

“She wanted me.” I state jabbing my finger in her face. “She loved me.”

“She loves Darius now.”

I don’t entertain it for a second. I know it’s a lie. Rose doesn’t love Darius, she wouldn’t be passing on information through Ty to bring him down if she did. But I can still see her, that fake smile, that way she lets him hold her. I know it’s a mirage, I know it’s not real. But my jealousy is there, festering. Because he’s the one touching her, he’s the one kissing her, forcing her to god knows what.

And then Lara’s voice repeats in my head. That he hurts her. That he hurts her and tells her it’s her fault.

I shove her hard, pushing her down the ridiculously ornate stairs, she stumbles, falling down the last few and lets out a cry. Around us my men are stood watching her. I know they don’t feel an ounce of pity either. We were clear about her part in all this, we could show exactly how she’s linked to the organ trade.

I grab the collar of her robe hauling her back to her feet and the damn thing comes undone all but flashing her body to everyone.

She squeals trying to cover herself and I allow her only the time it takes to tie the cord before I’m pushing her out the door.

But as we get outside bullets start raining down on us. Loud.

Some arsehole has a machine gun.

We duck, pulling Carla back. Whoever it is clearly doesn’t care if he kills her and while I’d agree with the sentiment that privilege is reserved for Rose. She gets to decide the details, the method, how long we draw it out and make her suffer.

“Let me go. Roman please. Let me go.” She pleads.

“Not a fucking chance.” I growl.