He’s erasing us. He’s taking the name Blackwood and burying it in the dirt.
"No," I say.
"Excuse me?"
"No!" I grab the folder. "I’m not signing this! I’m not letting you turn my family's work into a front for your criminal empire!"
I hurl the folder across the room.
The papers fly everywhere, scattering across the floor like white feathers. The heavy leather cover hits the bookshelf with a loud crack and falls to the carpet.
"I won't do it!" I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving. "Kill me. Go ahead. Shoot me right here in the office. But I refuse to put my name on that paper!"
I scan the room for a weapon, anything. My hand lands on the heavy crystal ashtray on the corner of the desk—a hideous slab of lead crystal my father bought years ago. I grab it, feeling its lethal weight.
"Get out!" I scream, swinging the crystal high and coming at him. "Get out of my office!"
Konstantin moves much faster than a man of his size should be able to.
Before I can bring the weapon down, his hand shoots out and snatches my wrist.
His grip is a steel trap, stopping my arm dead with a jolt that jars my shoulder socket.
"Let go!" I scream, struggling.
He rips the ashtray from my hand and slams it back onto the desk, splitting the glass top.
"You possess a temper," he snarls.
He doesn't let go. He twists my wrist behind my back, forcing my body to turn, and shoves me forward.
My chest slams into the desk, knocking the air from my lungs in a painful whoosh.
"Get off me!" I kick backward, driving my heel into his shin.
He doesn't even flinch.
He presses his hips against me, pinning me to the desk. He uses his weight to trap me, flattening me against the wood and the scattered papers.
"You think you have a choice?" he growls.
His voice is right at my ear. I can feel the vibration of his chest against my back.
"You think this is a negotiation, Princess? You think you can throw a tantrum and I’ll walk away?"
He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back.
Pain flares in my scalp as my neck arches, exposing my throat to the ceiling.
"Look at me," he commands.
I squeeze my eyes shut. "No."
"Look at me!"
He tugs my hair sharply.
I gasp, my eyes flying open to stare at our reflection in the darkened window.
