"This time really wasn't me..."
"Enough." I cut her off, releasing her chin and standing up. "I don't want to hear any more lies."
I looked down at her.
She knelt there, trembling all over, like a frightened little animal. The customers around us were still watching, eyes full of curiosity and gossip. I stripped off my suit jacket and threw it over her.
"Put it on."
She stared at me blankly.
"I said put it on!" I snarled. "Or do you want everyone to see you like this?"
She finally snapped out of it, trembling as she pulled on the jacket.
I bent down, pulled her up from the floor, and threw her over my shoulder. Everyone stepped aside—no one dared stop me.
Under countless stares and whispers, I carried her out. Now I just wanted to get her back somewhere I had complete control, where I could get to the bottom of exactly how many more lies she was hiding.
Chapter Twenty-One
Noelle
"Get in the car."
Kholod's voice cut like a Siberian gale, icy and unrelenting.
I hadn't even recovered from the bloody chaos at the tea room when he hoisted me over his shoulder, rough as hell, and shoved me into a black SUV. The door slammed shut with a bang, sealing off the outside world.
Through the window, I caught sight of Lorenzo being dragged away by a couple of guys in the opposite direction. His face was a mangled mess, the gash from his brow to his jaw deep enough to expose bone, looking gruesome under the streetlights.
"Lorenzo—" I tried to shove the door open.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, pinning me back into the seat.
"Don't move." Kholod's tone was flat, emotionless.
"He's going to die!" I struggled against it. "Please, at least take him to a hospital—"
"None of your business," Kholod said it stone-faced, then pulled out a black strip of cloth and tied it over my eyes.
"No—"
Everything plunged into darkness. The car roared to life, engine growling low.
I slumped against the seat, fists clenched in my skirt, nails digging in like they might tear through the fabric. It was all over. Isabella's meticulously planned "surprise," Lorenzo's obsession, Kholod's rage—it all twisted together, obliterating my last shred of hope.
The drive stretched on forever, winding through endless turns. I felt the car descend a slope, the air growing colder, heavier, more oppressive.
Finally, it stopped.
The door yanked open, and I was hauled out, my feet hitting cold, hard ground. Someone gripped my arm, guiding me forward, my heels echoing in the vast emptiness like an ominous countdown.
"That's enough." Kholod's voice broke in.
The blindfold came off, and blinding white light forced me to squint.
It was a basement. Concrete walls, smooth and frigid, with embedded LED strips casting a harsh, unforgiving glow. A dark gray leather sofa dominated the center, while a metal table and chairs huddled in the corner.
