Page 79 of Final Vendetta

“You’re wasting your time,” I snapped. “Imogene’s smarter than that. She’sstrongerthan that. She won’t let you manipulate her into becoming something she’s not. And she’s not like…” I trailed off.

“Like what?” He smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Finish your thought. She’s not like…what?”

“Me,” I answered. “She’s not like me. Or her father. Or you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see who’s right. Won’t we?”

I glared at him, my chest heaving. Every instinct screamed at me to lash out, to fight, to rip that smug look off his face. But that’s exactly what he wanted. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Myers took a step back. “Get some rest. You’re going to need it. The real fun begins soon. I can’t wait for you to see the surprise I have in store for you. I truly believe I’ve outdone myself.”

The door clanged shut behind him, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the cell. The walls felt closer now, the air heavier. But my resolve hardened.

I wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.

Not with Imogene’s life at stake.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Imogene

The zip ties cut into my wrists like sharp claws as a guard dragged me down the hallway, my pulse pounding louder with every step. The stale, musty air clung to my skin like a second layer. Every breath I took tasted metallic, as though the walls themselves were turning to rust around me.

The men surrounding me didn’t speak, their heavy boots pounding in rhythm with my erratic heartbeat. I strained to focus on anything else — counting the flickering overhead lights, noting the chipped paint on the walls — but nothing could drown out the knot twisting tighter in my stomach.

They may not have told me where they were taking me, but I already knew. And when we turned the corner and I saw the metal structure looming ahead, my knees buckled, all the air whooshing out of my lungs.

I’d heard Gideon’s stories. Over the past few days, I was even forced to watch videos of his fights that Myers kept like a prized home movie collection.

But nothing could have prepared me to see that cage in person.

It stood in the center of a large, dimly lit room, its metal walls stained with streaks of rust. Or blood. I couldn’t tell which. Thebars looked thick and unforgiving, dull in places and sharpened to jagged edges in others, as though years of violence had reshaped them.

A foul stench rolled over me. Sweat, blood, and something acrid curdled in the back of my throat. I gagged, turning my face away, but the smell followed.

My ears buzzed with phantom sounds — fists hitting flesh, bones snapping, screams that wouldn’t stop. None of it was real, not right now, but I could still hear them echoing in my head, leaving me frozen in place.

“Move.”

The guard shoved me forward, and I stumbled, my bare feet scraping against the cold, gritty floor. The cage seemed to grow larger with each step, its oppressive presence swallowing me whole.

They forced me into a chair mere inches away from the cage, the metal biting through my thin clothes. On either side of me, the guards stood motionless, their eyes fixed ahead. I didn’t dare look at them. My gaze was glued to the structure in front of me.

A pit.

A stage.

A tomb.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The fear clawing at my chest wasn’t new. It had been with me since the moment I woke up in my cell, however long ago that was.

But now it felt sharper, deeper. Like it had taken root in my very bones.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” Myers’ voice slithered through the haze of my thoughts, making me flinch.

I hadn’t even noticed him step into the room. He stood a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his face a picture of smug satisfaction.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was raw, my response stolen by the weight of what I knew was about to happen. What I was about to witness.

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