Page 55 of Filthy Royal

This time, the Consortium will not win.

She was right, wasn’t she? Damien would win, and they’d be together forever. It would all work out.

So where was he?

She paced to the other wall, her stomach churning.

He promised he’d be here, and Damien never broke a promise.

The door creaked open.

Relief slamming through her, she spun around. “Thank the Goddess, Damien. I—”

“Not who you were expecting?” Egan stood in the doorway to the secret room, unmasked, his familiar sneer now even easier to read.

“H-how?” She staggered back.

Egan’s grin widened. “You didn’t think we’d discover your secret little hideaway? Bribes work both ways.” He inhaled deeply. “You fucking stink of him.”

So that’s why they’d left her arms free and her door unlocked. It hadn’t been Damien’s doing, after all.

They’d come so close. All they’d needed was one more rotation. But, in the end, they’d fallen short.

“Wh-what are you going to do? Where’s Damien?”

Egan ignored her questions, his sneer slipping away as his eyes bled red. “You’re a fucking prize. You don’t ask questions. You don’t talk back. And you definitely stay where we put you.”

Her gaze flickered to the door.

“Hoping to escape? Or that Damien Skolov will swoop in and save you?” He shook his head. “Sadly for you, neither will happen.”

He stalked toward her, one slow step at a time.

Fear for Damien and for herself twisted through her.

Scarlett shuffled back.

Egan kept coming. “You have more spirit than expected. I thought I’d beat it out of you and your brother long ago.”

Another wave of panic slammed through her. He couldn’t possibly know about her brother, could he?

“But no”—her smirking handler circled closer—“you both refused to do as expected. After I put so much time and money into you.” His voice rose to a shout. “Ungrateful, defective merchandise.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Egan snarled. “I told you to stay away from Damien Skolov. I told you not to cause trouble. I told you this was bigger than you and me. But you didn’t listen.”

He feinted forward, then stopped, a predator tormenting its prey.

“Stay away.” She skittered back, just out of reach.

“Come here now!” He yanked the strap from his belt, snapping it in the air.

“You can’t. Th-the tournament. I’m a prize.”

“You think that can protect you? The vids only show what we want them to, and inspectors can be bribed as easily as guards. As long as the worst bruises are hidden from view, you’ll still serve as a workable prize—even if you’re a little more banged up and tarnished than most.” A leer twisted his features. “I’ve been given orders to make an example of you—and ensure it’s made crystal clear what happens to those who get in his way.”

“Get in whose way? Who are you talking about?”Who could hate her and Damien that much?

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