She turned the wheel toward the one place she least wanted to go. But it didn’t take long for the checkpoints to lock down—Ryan had noticed she’d disappeared.
For a heartbeat, she worried about Tristan. Then headlights seared her from behind. Five black SUVs boxed her in on a desolate stretch of road, dust billowing around them.
Ryan stepped out, framed by moonlight, the barrel of his gun a cold shadow aimed at her. His eyes were darker than the night.
“So eager to get back to Victor? You even bribed my people to help you escape.” His voice was flat steel.
Before she could explain, a shot rang out—the bullet finding her shoulder with clinical precision.
Pain erupted. She staggered and crumpled to the ground.
Ryan walked up to her, looking down at the figure huddled on the dirt, his voice flat as ice. “Scarlett, since you chose betrayal, you’ll pay the price.”
A bitter smile curved on her lips, twisted by pain and memory. “The price?” Her laugh was hollow. “Haven’t I paid enough already?”
She had clawed her way out of hell only to be thrown into the water prison, only to be broken again by the one man she trusted most. And now, here he was, branding her a traitor.
Ryan didn’t flinch. His face was carved from stone. “Take her to the dark room. I’ll administer the punishment myself.”
Scarlett held her head high in the briefest act of defiance. She wanted to argue, to make him see, but words meant nothing now. He had already decided she was guilty. So she stayed silent as the guards hauled her away.
Ryan’s gaze lingered on the blood soaking her shoulder for a moment before he turned his head away and said, low and detached, “Dress the wound properly, then bring her in.”
But he didn’t know that Rowena had already seized control in his absence. Her command was simple, vicious. “No one is to tend her wound. That’s what Ryan wants.”
The guards exchanged uneasy looks. No one dared to question, no one dared to confirm.
Moonlight streamed through the bars of the dark chamber where they dumped her. Scarlett slumped against the wall, her body shaking, her shoulder aflame. The blood loss made her vision swim. She thought, maybe this was it. Maybe she could let go.
But then memory cut through—the steady warmth of Ryan’s breath against her ear years ago, his voice patient as he corrected her aim.