Page 36 of Inheritance
This was it.
A tiny, pathetic noise tried to claw up my throat, but the tape over my mouth strangled it before it could leave.
The car stopped.
A door creaked open. Then slammed.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
This can’t be real.
I braced myself, but it didn’t matter.
The trunk popped open, and harsh light sliced through the hood, searing into my already overloaded senses. A hand grabbed my arm, rough and firm, and yanked me out.
My knees hit gravel. Pain tore up my legs, but the fear swallowed it whole.
"You’ve been a bad girl.”
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My body wasn’t mine anymore. It was just shaking limbs, burning lungs, a trapped animal caught in the jaws of something bigger, stronger, merciless.
Then, fingers hooked under the hood and ripped it off.
Blinding light. I flinched hard, but my eyes adjusted fast enough to take in the dusty boots. The cruel smirk.
Ivan.
A choked noise tried to rise up my throat, but the tape smothered it again. He looked me up and down, grabbed the end of the tape, and ripped it off in one motion. I winced, he laughed.
He looked down at my lips, then glanced at the man next to him.
“I love how the tape always puffs 'em up.”
The other man smirked, letting out a low laugh.
Two more men appeared, their hands closing around my arms..
"No!"
I thrashed, my muscles snapping to life, but I wasn’t strong enough.
“Bring her inside.” Ivan said lazily.
The doors opened before we reached them. Glass. Brass. Light everywhere. Too clean.
The foyer blurred past in flashes—marble floor, chandelier, white walls. It didn’t feel like a place for screaming. It felt curated. Wealthy. Sterile. But I couldn’t stop myself; my screams echoed throughout the mansion, returning to me, ignored by everyone.
We passed through a hallway, long and bright, lined with doors on one side and windows on the other. Pale floors. Curtains brushing the ground.
At the end, an open sitting area. Glass table. Roses in a vase. A large couch. None of it felt real.
They dropped me onto the black leather couch like luggage.
"Be good," one of the men said, his voice little more than a raspy vibration in my ears.
Metal clinked. A cold ring snapped around my ankle.
