Page 148 of The Colour of Revenge
Dominic doesn’t hear us coming. By the time he turns, it’s already too late. Carina’s swift, but I’m faster. I step into the path of his escape, blocking it effortlessly. His eyes widen in realisation, but it’s already too late for him to speak.
I advance on him, my gaze cold, unblinking. I see the fear flash in his eyes. It's a sweet, familiar sight.
With a swift motion, I draw my knife and close the distance between us, Carina’s silent presence behind me like a dark omen. The thrill is building in my chest, that intoxicating buzz as I watch the colour drain from his face.
“We thought this would be harder… needing to destroy the evidence you had against us… but now we know it’s not real…” I trail off, a grin stretching across my face, sharp and feral. It’s a smile that makes him shudder, and I relish it.
Dominic’s friend tries to back away. I see it in my peripherals, but Enzo steps forward, his presence overwhelming, the glint of his knife flashing as he closes the gap. The man freezes, his body stiffening in terror.
“It’s showtime,” I beam, and Carina’s laugh curls around me like a dangerous melody, adding to the thrill in the air.
I glance at Carina. The fire in her eyes makes my blood sing.
She's been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.
I roll my shoulders, loosening the tension, feeding off the energy crackling between us.
Dominic tries to run.
I don't even let him take a full step before I grab him by the collar, dragging him effortlessly down the hallway.
He thrashes, hands clawing at my wrist.
Pathetic.
His friend isn't much better. Enzo shoves him forward, not unkindly, but not gently, either.
They stumble into the chairs.
We tie them down.
The fun hasn't even started yet.
The sound of footsteps interrupts the silence.
A petite older woman wanders into the room, her eyes widening in horror as she takes in the scene before her.
Carina’s reflexes are lightning fast. In a flash, she’s on the woman, her fist slamming into the side of the woman’s face. The woman stumbles back, her head snapping to the side, and Carina moves in on her like a predator closing in on prey.
“You’re going to die alongside him,” Carina spits at her, hatred lacing every syllable, grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her over to the others. We tie her down too.
I step back, surveying the room. The three of them, bound and helpless. Perfect.
My gaze flicks to Carina.
“Who is she?”
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Martha,” Carina hisses the name like venom, her eyes narrowed in seething hatred. “She watched. She let it happen. Every time he hit me. Every time he locked me away without food.”
My pulse pounds.
Watched. Let it happen.
My fingers twitch against my knife.
She stood there while Carina suffered. Did nothing.
