Page 122 of The Heir

I gasp on the pallet, trying to maneuver off my wrists when Mr. Scognamiglio's eyes meet mine and he tilts his head. "Mrs. King, I am so sorry for how you've been treated.Had I known,"he throws Claudio a filthy look, "this wouldneverhave been allowed to occur. You think I would have wanted my future bride to be tortured? Stabbed like that to force her into marrying me?"

A short, blonde woman steps through the door and walks towards me, her steps hurrying as she sees the state I'm in. I squirm, unsure of what's happening.

Am I still kidnapped or are these people helping me?

Mr. Scognamiglio puts his phone to his ear, but my vision is starting to waiver as whoever Gypsy is, yells out for two people to help her.

"Joaquin, I've got her, you can come down," Mr. Scognamiglio says. His tone is resigned, not offering me a hint of reassurance that I'm going to make it through this. I fight off the next wave of dizziness, wanting with everything inside me to stay conscious so I know what's going on.

"What the fuck is going on?"Claudio yells, his face turns bright red once more with how irate he is, but he's being ignored by the others in the room.

Gypsy doesn't spare him a minute's glance.

She lowers beside me with confidence. Past her, two large men come behind her with a stretcher. As they lay it down next to me I'm distracted by Gypsy's hands working the bindings around my wrists. There's a hard tugging, then I'm free for the first time in I don't know how long. My arms jerk painfully to my front and black spots dot my vision as the room spins.

It hurts.

I scream, bile rises in my throat at the feeling of my joints being pulled uncomfortably.

It's almost worse than being stabbed. I look down my body, feeling my face break out in a fresh coat of sweat as Gypsy works to put pressure on the first stab wound, making me suck air through my teeth. Warm blood coats my pelvis and my thigh, making my ratted dress mat against me uncomfortably.

"No," I whimper, "Oh God, please no." I cry as I see her try and move my clothes around the knife.

Her warm blue eyes meet mine, turning soft. "Don't worry, Mrs. King. I won't pull it out. It's best to leave it until the doctor can handle it," she says kindly.

I nod frantically. "Yes, yes thank you.Thank you."I say hoarsely, my voice cracking.

I flinch as I hear a sound, forcing my gaze from Gypsy's to see Claudio slapping the wall. "We had an agreement!" Claudio yells at Mr. Scognamiglio, pointing a finger at him.

Mr. Scognamiglio's eyes turn downright evil, and I swallow thickly against the blood in my mouth as I'm forced into another wave ofterror that I'm not being let go after all. I'd rather die than live alongside whatever I just saw flash in his eyes."No, not like this we didn't,"he says. "And besides, you didn't tell me who her husband is. Do you know what the fuck you'vedone?The bullshit you've put me and my family in? I'd kill you myself, but there's someone else who requires his pound of flesh that's much more pressing than me I fear."

Claudio is still yelling at whoever this Mr. Scognamiglio is, when I hear the door bang against the wall just as the two men are lifting me on the stretcher. My head lolls over just as a tall, olive skinned man with a slight crooked nose and dark hair walks into the room, and as he turns to clasp arms with Mr. Scognamiglio, I see my husband come in the room behind him.

"King," I whisper.

My heart pounds as he gets his first look at me.

I really want to die now. I do not want him to see me like this. His eyes widen when they meet mine, and everything stops. Claudio stops yelling, Gypsy stops fussing over me, and the men stop strapping me to the stretcher.

I see it unfold in slow motion. His eyes lock with mine, widening first before his brow settles into a furrow. His gaze rakes slowly down my body until they reach the knife handle protruding out of my belly then freezes. It's almost as if time itself crawls to a stop, and its the most surreal sensation.

His body language changes from one of relief to one that I pray I never, and I meannever,see again.

His pupils dilate, his lips pull back and he turns, seeing Claudio who's standing there with his mouth set in a tight line and his brow is lowered. Much like when he attacked Christopher, King moves silently. His body vaults across the small space and I hear a sickeningcrack as he collides with Claudio before they both bounce off the wall with a loud yell.

King twists them in midair so that Claudio falls on his back, and for the next however long, I am treated to the sight of my husband killing my father.

It's so good that I wave a hand away when the men go to lift up the stretcher to walk me out the door. "No, I need to see," I say weakly."Just don't touch the kn-knife."

Oh God it hurts so bad, but I need to see this.

"But ma'am," Gypsy implores. "We need to take care of you." Laying a hand on my forehead, she gets her face right in front of me, but I crane my neck to see around her.

"Move!"I snap. "I want to see him fucking die!"

Gypsy jumps back at the fierceness of my scream, however, I'm unconcerned. I look beyond her, watching justice be served nice and perfect by my husband.

It's a bit before King stops, but eventually he raises up to his feet. His chest heaves with exertion, and I can't even begin to care that his body and hands are covered with blood. Claudio twitches on the floor and as King gets up, looking down at him he spits on him. Black surrounds my vision, making everything hazy. I loll my head on the stretcher, moaning.

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