Page 29 of VII (Seven) (War of Roses 2)

I try to stand but my limbs refuse to obey the commands my brain issues.

So I crawl, dragging my limp form into a corner. We must be in a basement. The walls are gray gunmetal. Rectangular windows are set high above, revealing pitch-black darkness. In addition to Nikolaus, another man lurks near a shadowed doorway. I vaguely recognize him as well, but I can’t place him to a name. Another man from themafiyagathering, maybe?

“Enough,” he hisses out when Nikolaus makes his third trip around the room. “Kill her now. You’ve made your point, and you can laugh yourself to sleep at night when you relive getting one over on Mischa. But do it now—”

“I’m fucking thinking!” Nikolaus tears his fingers through his hair, a wild smile shaping his lips. “Kill her? I could use the little bitch as proof. Mischa’s gone insane. This fucking feud. He’ll kill us all!”

“He’ll kill you,” the other man interjects calmly. “If you don’t smarten up and take your chance. Who cares if she’s important to the Winthorp boy—”

“He might pay for her,” Nikolaus muses, stroking his chin. “They say he killed his own father with his bare hands just to get her back. Nearly killed Mischa from what I hear—the bastard refused to give her up.”

No.Confusion strikes like a freight train at full force.Killed his own father…

The room spins. I can’t breathe. An image of a bloodied ring replaces the horrific reality before me, but in some ways, it’s so much worse.

“We could sell her to that punk. Make a deal. Teach that bastard Mischa a lesson—”

“He’ll kill you,” I hear myself croak. God, my voice is a rough, dry whisper. It takes everything I have to make it rise even an octave higher. “He’ll make you a deal. Then kill you anyway.”

Both men turn their attention to me.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Nikolaus crosses the room in seconds. His hand lashes out and the world goes black.

I taste blood. When my vision returns, I’m staring at the floor, clutching my jaw. I try to speak but every word comes out garbled.

“Maybe the little bitch is right,” the other man says, oblivious to my attempts. “Either way, I say you kill her now. Get it over with.”

“I’ll do what I fucking want!” Nikolaus shudders, wavering unsteadily on his feet. His eyes reconnect with mine and in them I find nothing. Just hollow emptiness. “I should fuck her,” he declares, his tone soft. “Mischa’s a jealous little prick. I’ll send her back to him. Say she came begging for it—”

“Do you hear yourself, Nikolaus?” the other man asks, but he sounds more impatient than horrified.

Instantly, I know he’s no protector. He’ll watch. He’ll wait.

But I won’t be violated again. Not like this.

“You couldn’t,” I rasp, barely intelligible. But Nikolaus cocks his head, laughing as he tries to decipher my words. “You’re…not…man enough.”

My brain skips ahead, devising a plan utilizing the only weapon I have left: pride. There was one thing that could make Robert more furious than anything else. One name when mentioned that could make him more skittish and doubtful than a teenage boy during his first encounter.

I suspect that Nikolaus is no different. But where Robert feared his father’s presence, this man is terrified of another.

“Mischa is twice the man you are.” The pathetic, broken creature speaking doesn’t even sound like me—she’s bolder than I ever was.

“What did you say?” Nikolaus advances, his fingers curling.

“I said you couldn’t even come close to him—”

“Shut up!”

Lightning. I see it. Taste it—coppery, wet warmth dripping off my tongue.

“Look at me, you little cunt! You think you’ve handled a real fucking man?”

My heart stutters as fabric tears nearby. Cold air assaults my body a second later.

I’ve failed. Failed. He’s already crouching over me, spreading my legs apart.

Breathe,a part of me whispers, clinging to my old mantra.You can survive this, Ellen. Just breathe...

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