Scarlett closed her eyes, hugging the rifle tight against her chest. The weapon was useless now, but it was all she had left. Her voice shook as she whispered, “Do you know what Victor’s men did after they caught me?” Her voice rasped with pain. “They pinned me down. One after another…”
The memory hit like acid, her whole body trembling. Back then, she had prayed for him to come. For Ryan to break down the door. For him to save her.
“I begged. I prayed. I needed you more than anything. But where were you?”
For the first time, a flicker crossed his eyes—something close to pain—but it was smothered by suspicion, by cold denial.
“You expect me to believe that story?” His tone was hard, cutting.
Scarlett’s tears ran hot as she let out a hollow laugh. She had stripped herself bare, but still, he refused to believe her.
“Believe it or not—it doesn’t matter.” She met his gaze with ice in her voice. “If it makes things easier, then fine. Consider me the traitor.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. His voice dropped into something grave, dangerous.
“Cut ties with Victor and I’ll let you come back.”
She froze, then broke into laughter so bitter it burned her throat. Tears streamed harder, her smile twisted and wrecked.
“Come back? To what? To watch you and Rowena wrapped up in your sweet little romance? I’d rather rot.”
Ryan said nothing. He watched her for a long time, his silence heavy as a tomb. Then he turned and left, locking her inside the chamber.
Scarlett had braced herself, convinced Ryan would punish her again. She thought she knew every brand of torment he could unleash. She was ready for pain, ready for whatever he planned to inflict.
But Ryan knew her too well. He knew exactly where to strike to make her break.
The guards shoved Tristan inside, his body already bruised and battered. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, groaning but refusing to cry out. Ryan sat in the middle of the room, lounging in the chair like a king presiding over his court. His fingers tapped lazily against the armrest, as if none of this mattered.
“If you like playing hero for her so much,” Ryan said coldly, “then you can suffer in her place.”
At his signal, one of the guards moved forward, grabbed Tristan’s hand and stomped. The sound of bones cracking echoed in the silence like gunfire. Scarlett’s chest seized; she flinched hard, the sound rattling through her bones.