She lowered the gun immediately, tearing it apart under the weak light. Her hands moved swiftly, but when her eyes fell on the tampered calibrator, her entire body went rigid. The traces were faint but undeniable.
A shock like lightning ripped through her. She hadn’t missed Victor because she was unsteady. She hadn’t failed out of lack of skill.
No. The gun had already been sabotaged.
The alarm shrieked in the chamber and the door slammed open.
Ryan filled the doorway. His gaze dropped to the disassembled rifle in her hands, his expression unreadable, eyes dark as midnight.
Scarlett’s breath caught. She raised her head, her voice trembling as she demanded, “Who did this?”
But she already knew. Her heart whispered the answer before he spoke. The only one who could have gotten close enough, the only one with reason to do it—was Ryan.
Her Ryan.
Her throat constricted as she choked back a sob. Her tears blurred the edges of his face.
“Was it you?”
He stood silent for a long beat before finally saying, “It was me.”
The words shattered her. Her tears slipped free, silent and merciless.
“Why?” Her voice cracked, broken.
Why send her on the mission at all? Why sabotage the very weapon she needed? Did he not know how dangerous it had been? Did he not know the price she paid for that failure?
Of course, he knew.
Ryan’s voice was steady, almost detached, as if delivering a simple report.
“It was a profitable trade.”
Her body turned cold. She understood in an instant—she had been currency. Ryan had sold her.
“You sold me?” Her voice trembled, disbelief fraying every syllable.
He frowned slightly, almost offended. “If I’d sold you off, you wouldn’t be standing here in front of me, would you?”
Scarlett’s laugh came out sharp, bitter. “Exactly. If you sold me, I shouldn’t even be alive.”
As the words left her lips, clarity struck. She was only alive by accident. He had sold her expecting she’d never walk back into his sight.
She gave a bitter, broken laugh. “So you never planned on saving me.”
Ryan didn’t answer. His silence was a blade. Finally, he murmured, “Scarlett, you know I despise betrayal more than anything.”
Her lips trembled. Her chest constricted. Betrayal? Who betrayed first? Who broke faith first?
She stared at the man she had once given everything to, once trusted, once adored—now he was a stranger, absurd and cruel.