The old Chloe is gone, though, burned away in Gio’s warehouse along with my illusions of safety. “Don’t worry. I know how to open it without using the latch.”
Kolya falls back as I swing the poker, muttering what sounds like a Russian curse.
Fueled by fifteen years of suppressed trauma and rage, my first blow strikes hard, denting the crap out of the world. The lacquered surface splinters, but the damage isn’t enough to satisfy me. I want to watch continents, oceans, and islands explode across my living room floor.
Instead of fear, only cold, clear certainty courses through me.
Let them come. I’m done hiding.
This ends now.
Chapter 36
Kolya
My body tightens with need as I drink in Chloe, magnificent in her pure, primal fury.
This woman always existed beneath the sunshine and glitter, but now she’s no longer hiding the survivor I glimpsed from the very start. Her blazing eyes transform her as she brings the poker down again, smashing the world into even tinier pieces.
Whatever happens next, there’s no going back.
Her next blow strikes with a strangethunkthat’s wrong, too heavy for hollow wood. A solid block of multi-colored resin, about the size of a small melon, flies from the ruins and crashes to the floor.
The oxygen leeches from my lungs. “Is that…?”
Suspended inside the melon, like insects trapped in an amber stone, are hundreds of diamonds. Glittering, perfect, and completely immobilized.
Delicate cracks spiderweb across the resin’s surface, threatening the integrity of the structure.
So not a very strong resin.
Or one meant to break.
A few diamonds broke free and skittered across the floor like dice thrown by a nervous gambler. They gleam in the dim light, throwing prisms on the walls.
For a heartbeat, we just stare.
Twenty million dollars, sparkling within a pretty prison on top of Chloe’s area rug.
The object of Roman’s obsession. The reason for the chaos on the island. The reason Chloe’s life was destroyed. The trigger for us finding each other.
Chloe reacts first.
The poker descends again with renewed fury, only this time, her target isn’t the globe but the resin block. The impact fractures the compound.
She swings again. “Fuck. You!” Again. “Fuck. Every. One. Of. You. Fucking. Fuckers!”
Each word is punctuated by the crash of metal against resin.
Awe burns my throat as I watch the real Chloe break free of the remaining chains binding her to her rainbow facade. With one last, decisive blow, the resin block shatters. Diamonds explode outward in a violent birth.
Chloe pants over the sparkling mess, still white-knuckling the fire poker.
Mission accomplished.
Finally, the tool lands on the rug with a dullthud. Her shoulders slump with release as the righteous fury that propelled her flames out.
She bends over and picks up a shard. “This one isn’t a diamond.”
