Page 87 of Rat Race

“We're done here,” I repeated, firmer this time.

“No, you aren't. Get suited up. The game is about to start.”

“We're not playing in anymore fuckinggames.” My voice rose now as I slid off the vanity and to the floor with a thud of my boots. “We made our money, made you your money. Now it’s time for us to go.”

“About that…” Sarah-Beth started, a ferocious, eerily excited gleam in her hooded eyes. “I regret to inform you that your contract was violated by inciting violence and failing to be impartial to all competitors.” She fake-frowned, her overlined lips pulling downwards in a mocking pout. “Sorry about that.”

It was clear to me that was a load of shit, clear to Kohl too as he jerked up from the floor to lunge at her, making the woman stumble backwards in her heels, her tight pencil skirt nearly making her topple over.

They would've gotten to her too if her bodyguard hadn’t moved to block them, catching Kohl's shoulder with a massive, ham-sized fist.

“Ah ah ah,” she said, voice lowering into a hiss. “We can either do this the easy way, Victoria, or we can do it the hard way.”

“And if I choose not to do it at all?”

“Well, if you'd like to see your little buddy here in a body bag, that's an option, princess.”

My eyes flicked to Kohl, their arm being held perilously behind their back. Smart of them to go after my partner, even if it set my teeth on edge. It's what I would've done in their position. Manipulate my weak point.

The seconds ticked by as I glowered furiously.

There was no real choice here, not if they were going to hurt Kohl.

“That's what I thought,” Sarah-Beth cooed with a syrupy smile. “Now, get dressed. We need to get you back into hair and makeup.”

“For what?” Kohl asked with a huff as they were released, brushing themselves off and flexing their fingers.

“Truth or Dare, obviously.” Sarah-Beth replied, ticking off something else on her tablet.

Kohl's eyes met mine, wide and anxious. My lip curled furiously—the only one who got that reaction out of them was me.

“Why the fuck would we do that? We're rich as shit as it is, no reason to sign up.”

“Hm, about that. Go off script, no cash. Didn't you read the contract you signed?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she put her hand up to stop me.

“We aren'tmonsters, Victoria. Win Truth or Dare, and you can keep whatever money you earn in the game—and we'll pay you your contract amount too.”

“I—”

“I'm going to remind you that we aren't really asking.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek to stop myself from insulting her, the injustice of it all weighing me down.

The idea of walking back into that arena? Of having to watch Kohl walk in there with me?

I'd rather drop dead.

“Fine, but we have stipulations.”

“Negotiations are for people who read the fine print,” Sarah-Beth reminded me. “Get dressed. Game starts in a few hours.”

We didn't want to play the first time, much less twice.

And here we were, staring down re-entry into the arena like it was the barrel of a gun. It practically was. The thing about Truth or Dare was that it was a game of secrets. And who had more secrets than Legacies? Worse, Legacies whose parents becameArchitects.

Seventy-two hours earlier, I would've laughed this off. What kind of secrets could they have dug up to use to blackmail me with, really?

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