“Doesn’t matter.” His gaze cut to the door, his body tensing to leave. “What does matter is they’ll kill for it.”
“Why?” I asked again. I didn’t want him to leave. Not until I had some answers. Perhaps if I understood this prison, I would be able to sleep again. I’d be able to relax and not rush headfirst into another attack.
His fingers strayed to his chest, pressing against his heart. His sleeve sank down his forearm, revealing the silver cuff in fullglory. His gaze caught mine, cutting and cold. “Because I’m the last of my line. And if I die, Brimstone Industries dies with me.”
I searched his face for more answers. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, well.” He smirked. “You’re not exactly very smart. We’ve already established this.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You can go now.”
He snickered as he stood. Whisper raised his head and yawned.
Taking a step away from the bed, Lucien muttered, “So...you’re not trying to seduce me?”
I scowled. “Really? This is getting old—”
“And you’re not here to kill me.”
“For the hundredth time,no.”
He tipped his head, the long fall of his hair slipping against his collar. “Fine.”
“Fine what?”
Snapping his fingers, he waited until his panther leapt from the bed to join him. “From now on, you’ll serve me.”
I blinked. “I’ll what?”
“I believe you. You’re not like the others.” He turned toward the door, his fingers trailing over Whisper’s glossy black pelt as the cat prowled beside him. “Come to the palace tomorrow morning. That isn’t a request.”
My temper tried to rise. “You could say please.”
“I could.” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes cold and gorgeous. “But I won’t. See you tomorrow, little liar. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Seventeen
I GROANED AS ANOTHER BLAZE OF pain threatened to knock me out.
My hands balled where I sat outside in my private courtyard—the only place the little murderers couldn’t sneak up on me because none of them could enter the palace without Whisper ripping off a limb or two.
All day, the burn had been steadily getting worse as if they drip-fed me a bigger dose—as if they sensed I’d beentalkingto someone. Wanting—against all my instincts—to trust someone.
I couldn’t deny she did things to me. She muted the pain when I was with her somehow. She gave me a chance to breathe without agony. And I hated that I wanted to believe her. I wanted so fucking badly for her to be telling the truth that she wasn’t like the others, but I also couldn’t be the fool I’d been in the past.
I’d trusted Marcus would look after me after my parents died.
I’d trusted the board members who all came together to oversee Brimstone Industries until I came of age.
And look at what that trust got me.
The stars above twinkled as I slowly got a handle on the searing despair and sucked in a breath. Tipping my chin to the sky, I tried to imagine the brightly lit city skylines in Beijing whenever my parents took me on business trips.
For twenty years, the only society and cityscapes I saw were on the rare movies that Marcus uploaded onto a tablet for me. I had no idea what the world was like these days. No idea if flying cars existed or if humanity was on the brink of ruin.
Slipping off the deck lounger, I padded barefoot to the small cherry blossom tree that my father had planted when he first bought this estate for my mother. It didn’t like the English winters but in the summer, it did well enough.
Plucking a small twig off with a few green leaves, I spun it around as Whisper arrived.
