Page 67 of Vengeful Princess

I’d endured enough of Torrance’s punishments to understand how bad this would be. Roberto was dead and dead man couldn’t tell tales, so now Torrance and my father had no way to find out why Roberto’s name was on the list I found in Lucian Forsyth’s office at Blackwood Manor.

“I have to go,” I informed Kyril in a clipped, robotic voice. The only way to deal with what came next was to shut down, compartmentalize my emotions. Physical pain was nothing. I could handle that.

Kyril ground his teeth with exasperation. “Thea, it’s late. Just get in the truck so we can get the fuck out of here!” We both tensed when sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer by the second. Someone must have seen the fiery dumpster of death.

“I can’t.” I pulled my jacket tight around my body and jogged away, willing myself not to look back at Kyril. If I did, the temptation to throw myself into his arms and beg for protection would be too great.

“Thea!” Kyril’s voice followed me as I slipped into the shadows but a few seconds later, I heard the roar of his truck as he sped away.

Torrance said nothing when I climbed into his van. He didn’t ask after Roberto or pass comment on anything. Instead, he drove us through the silent streets, eyes forward, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly I was concerned it might snap.

It began to rain. Lightly at first, then so hard the wipers struggled to cope with the deluge. I stared out of the grimy window as we passed derelict industrial estates and rows of depressing terraced houses.

The more I thought about it, the more stupid I felt. I should have jumped in Kyril’s truck. Torrance would have left me alone then. He wasn’t man enough to pick a fight with the son of Vasily Orliov.

I’d done some research on Orliov. To ordinary people, he masqueraded as an Oligarch, one of the lucky few who made a fortune when the Soviet Union fell in the early 90s. In reality, he was the head of the Russian Mafia in this part of the world.

Torrance would know exactly who Kyril was, so if he’d seen us together this evening, he would have questions. My father didn’t have a good relationship with the Russians. There was a lot of bad blood between them after a deal went wrong a decade ago, and several important members of Orliov’s organization ended up in prison.

Gray, rain-soaked urban buildings gave way to scrubby fields and then moorland. Soon, the familiar mountains surrounding college loomed ahead. But before we hit the main road into the glen, Torrance took a right-hand turn down a bumpy track.

My anxiety ramped up as we approached a ramshackle old barn barely held together by ivy. It looked like a serial killer’s lair, which didn’t exactly fill me with joy.

“Get out.” The harsh snarl of Torrance’s command made me jump, but I did as I was told. He pushed me toward a door hanging from rusty hinges.

Inside, rain dripped through holes in the slate roof. Old pieces of rusty farm machinery stood in deep shadow and small snuffling sounds made me wonder how many rats had made a home in here.

I shivered.

Objectively, I knew rats were mostly harmless, but after being locked in a pitch black cellar with a few of them as a child, I had a morbid fear of their scratchy claws and scaly tails.

“You failed,” Torrance announced with zero inflection. “You were supposed to bring Pesci to me for questioning, so why did he end up dead?” There was no mention of Kyril’s involvement, but I decided honesty was the best policy. If I lied and Torrance already knew what had happened, my punishment would be even worse.

“I got interrupted before I could stick him with the sedative and get him out of there. Some guy from college walked in on us. Roberto pulled a gun and got shot.”

“And who was the guy?”

“He’s a friend of Cassian Forsyth. Russian. I don’t know why he was at the club.” No lie; it hadn’t come up. Probably because we ended up humping against a wall before having an actual conversation.

“Why didn’t you deal with the guy? It’s well within your capabilities.”

I had to think fast to come up with a plausible explanation. “He and Cassian are good friends. If anything happened to him, the press would be all over it.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmm. That’s true.” From the calm way he nodded, he realized it made sense. For one heady moment, I thought I wassafe, but then his expression turned murderous in the blink of an eye, and I realized I wasn’t safe at all. Far from it, in fact. “You do make a good point, but dumping the body in an alleyway and setting fire to it is hardly staying under the radar, is it, Thea?”

“It was the best I could come up with,” I said calmly. Rain dripped onto my head and trickled down inside my jacket. It was colder than my father’s heart out here. “Can I get back now? I have a class in the morning, and if I miss it, my tutor will ask questions.”

Quick as a flash, Torrance was on me faster than I could block. Not that I would have. It wasn’t how our punishment sessions worked. He gave, and I took without complaint.

His fist hit the side of my head and I tumbled sideways, straight into a pool of brackish water.

“I don’t give a fuck about your college classes! You failed, and you know I can’t let that pass.” He dragged me up and threw me against a rotten post, tying my wrists behind my back so I couldn’t defend myself from his punches.

He didn’t stop until my right eye was so swollen I could barely see. From how agonizing each breath was, he might have cracked a rib, too. But I refused to show any signs of pain. Not one whimper escaped, not even when he resorted to lashing my torso with a length of chain he found.

He only stopped when he realized I was on the verge of passing out.

“You can make your own way back to college,” he snarled. “It’s only a few miles from here.” The malicious smile he threw me made me want to vomit. “Make sure you get back before dawn, or I’ll be visiting sweet little Verity when I return.” Then he left me alone in the semi-darkness with only the sounds of rain dripping on the sodden floor for company.

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