“What information?” I grit out.
“Where is your little girlfriend?” my father asks, the words dripping with malice, and my stomach plummets into a pool of dread.
My body tenses involuntarily at the mention of Ella, the mere thought of her near him making me want to rage. But beyond that physical reaction, I show no other sign of the aching chasm building inside me.
Ella? He wants to know about Ella?
What the fuck for?
I grit my teeth, trying to keep my emotions in check. Fear runs through me as I remember how she was taken from us. Anger bubbles up, furious at everything she’s been through while Iwasn’t there. And underneath it all, there’s this deep longing—I just want her to be safe, far away from this messed-up situation.
Away from me. Away from all of this.
Nyx’s words from months ago come spiraling back so hard, so fast, I get dizzy.
Mark my words. Our world will ruin her.
My heart softens a fraction when I remember the way she fought him every step of his accusation. Every time any of us have tried to push her away, my little warrior has fought us tooth and fucking nail.
Nah. Our world won’t ruin her. She’s already a fucking queen.
As I run my tongue along my teeth, suppressing a smile that threatens to betray my thoughts, I realize something crucial—a glimmer of relief.
If he's asking about Ella, it means she's not here in this hell with me.
Thank God.
I don’t know what he wants from her, but I have to find out. A sound pulls my attention back to the woman who’s as still as a statue before me, and I swallow thickly.
Ella may not be here, but Katarina is. I am. My brothers might be.
I have to play this smart.
I have to play the game.
“I have no idea who you're talking about,” I finally drawl, my voice cocky and arrogant, though every word I utter is a lie.
Truthfully, Ella is the very core of my existence, the one human who makes it possible for me to breathe in a world hell bent on suffocating me to death.
My father’s reaction is icy. He tilts his head back and lets out this cold, mocking laugh that cuts through the air. It grates on my nerves, a harsh reminder of the man I’ve come to hate.
“Don't start lying now, Gage,” he sneers, his voice dripping with a venomous blend of disdain and amusement. He shakes his head, not even bothering to fully look at me. “It's a weak man's trait, and you know it.” He clicks his tongue and scans me over his shoulder, his lip curling. “Thought I beat that shit out of you.”
My jaw clenches with the effort of holding back my seething anger. He knows exactly how to get under my skin, to push my buttons, and it infuriates me.
But I shove it down because I know how to get under his too.
“You'd know all about weak,” I retort sharply, my patience slipping like sand through my fingers. I watch the girl before me, swaying on her feet, her bruised and battered form clearly at the brink of exhaustion. I need to get her attention.
My father freezes, his gaze locking onto mine with a chilling intensity. He points a trembling finger in my direction, his threat clear. “Don't.”
One word because he’s too cocky to think he needs more.
I don’t give a fuck.
I laugh. “Oh, I think I will.” I shake my head and wiggle my toes. Anything to make her see me while he’s distracted. “You have to pick on people who are half your size. Have to terrorize woman and children because you’re too fucking pathetic to fight your own battles with a man your size?”
She sucks in a breath, and her eyes flick up to mine. Gus growls, but he’s across the cell so I quickly glance at the small toilet and sink tucked in the corner furthest from him, hoping she understands me.
