Page 90 of A Fine Line

I cringe inwardly, calling upon every ounce of theatrical training I’ve ever had to keep the warm smile on my face and shining from my eyes. I probably shouldn’t be surprised, but part of me is disappointed that his being nice had nothing to do with human decency and understanding. Like everyone else in my life, it was all for his own gain—all for him wanting me for himself because he wanted to be king of the evil kingdom.

He walks over to the men hauling Tony up off the floor, speaking to them quietly, and then they’re dragging him away, and I’m left unable to even stare after them.

Victor looks me up and down again, then creepily smiles and says, “You were supposed to compromise their fucking organization, not marry one of them.”

I shrug my shoulders dismissively, working hard to school my features at learning he was the one keeping tabs on me after Vincent and Dmitri were killed. “I didn’t sign any papers. Surely, you can make them disappear as easily as they made them appear.”

His smile broadens. “It won’t matter once he’s dead. There’s no waiting period to remarry if you’re a widow.”

My heart stutters in my chest, but somehow, I manage to keep my wits about me as he walks closer to me, puts his arm over my shoulder, and pulls me against his body. I lean into him and look up at his face, a face that always held kindness for me in the past. But now, I see the same monster that was Vincent and Dimitri and countless other power-hungry assholes who’ve come in and out of my life.

I’d like to assume that he wouldn’t treat me as poorly as Vincent did, but I also know that in this world, all it takes is the need for one more pawn on the board for all of that to change.

“What are you gonna do with the asshole?” I ask, keeping my voice blasé and my expression bored. “Are you going to have some fun torturing him later?”

He smirks and pulls me tighter against him. “Not worth the risk. I told them to take him down to the incinerator and get rid of him. When it comes to people like Tony Andersen, you need to cut them off at the neck before they have time to retaliate or regroup. Otherwise, you’re a dead man.”

Thinking about Antoinette and her opinions of men leading with their dicks and their egos, I smile broadly, my eyes shining as I wrap my arm around his neck, pulling myself up closer to him and purring, “Aw, Victor, you were always so nice to me. I wish you’d told me of your plans at the time. Maybe we could’ve taken him out together and avoided all of this craziness. At least now, we can focus on us and our future.”

I rub myself all along his body, raising my leg up in offering, and he takes it, grabbing behind my knee and pulling it up to his hip. My hands move down between our bodies, his eyes closing in anticipation as I fumble along the waistband of his pants. He’s so consumed with anticipation that he doesn’t realize that only one hand is in his pants while the other is reaching down into my boot that he made accessible to me.

I wasn’t lying when I told Tony that I’m an excellent fucking actress.

You just never know which part I’m playing until it’s too late.

I move my hand from inside Victor’s pants to his hair, and at the same time, I pull the blade from my boot, whipping it around and jabbing down viciously into the side of his neck. He attempts to jerk away, but I tighten my grip on his hair, my foot lifting so my leg around his hip squeezes him closer. I quickly yank the knife out of his neck and jab it back in once, twice, three times in quick succession.

I push back from him, and he blinks at me, his jaw working as he tries to speak, his hands coming up to clutch at his throat. And then, he stands there and fucking bleeds.

Blood gushes with every pump of his heart, and I don’t flinch; I don’t look away. He sags to the floor, and I push him over, taking the bloody blade still in my hand and stabbing him in the heart, ignoring the vibrating ricochet that runs up my arm.

I spin around and run back toward the stairwell, where Victor’s men disappeared with Tony. A shadow crosses the doorway, and I pause for a split second as Darius comes into view, Matt right behind him, and I don’t falter in my steps, yelling over my shoulder, “They’re gonna kill him!”

I’ve only been in this facility a few times, and I attempt to focus my mind on the correct path, knowing that one wrong turn means he’s that much closer to death. I swallow down the fear and anxiety as I fly down the stone steps, likely faster than is wise, but I don’t hesitate. I continue forward, knowing Dare and Matt are right behind me.

My steps stumble as we walk into pitch-blackness, but then a glow behind me pushes me forward, Dare’s words behind me moving me faster. “We’re gonna make it. We have to make it.”

I choke down a sob, pushing forward, knowing the three of us will be moving more swiftly than a group of men who think they’re not running against the clock, men who are likely bragging over what they feel they’re about to accomplish.

Over my dead fucking body.

The rooms are lightening as we move through, and I burst out into a room I know is two staircases from their final destination. I make a sharp left and barrel up the stairs, coming through the second-to-last door right as the unmistakable vibration of a 2000° inferno roars to life.

I stumble into the room, my eyes on the short set of stairs that lead up to the incinerator, and I lose my footing on the slick stone, stumbling a few feet as I try to get my feet back under me. I scream, “No! No!”

Hands grip under my arms, dragging me to my feet, and we’re all running toward the doorway now aglow with fire, blinding and ominous. Final. I stumble again. This time, a guttural wail falls from my lips as I crash to my knees on the stone, Dare and Matt flanking me helplessly. I lie there on the cold stone for a few long moments, my broken sobs uncontrollable as I choke and gag on what feels like a lifetime of pent-up rage and fear pouring from my body.

Hands press against my shoulders and my back, and Dare is there whispering words I can’t make out through my sobs. Both of my hands are braced against the floor, tears, snot, and spit splattering on the stones beneath where I’m kneeling. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath in an attempt to get control of myself.

I take a few deep breaths and then open my eyes as two booted feet come into sight, walking right up to me. I whimper, not daring to look up.

Dare releases me, and new hands grip my upper arms, forcing my eyes to rise with my upper body, and there’s Tony, bloody and knocked around, looking at me with a resigned expression on his face as he says clearly, “I was gonna let them take me, but then I decided I didn’t even wanna die without you.”

I choke out a laugh and sob, “I fucking hate you so much!”

He pulls me into him, and I wrap my arms around him, his breath against my ear as he replies, “Same, sweetheart. Same.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

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