"You were doing so well, Keira. I thought for a moment…" He sighs theatrically.
My teeth chatter uncontrollably.
"I didn't want to do this. You understand that, don't you? You've forced my hand."
My chest constricts. "You don't have to. I'll fix it."
"Hale leaves for Switzerland when we return from New York."
My brain refuses to process the words.
"There's a boarding school in Geneva. Excellent reputation.He'll receive the best education money can buy." His thumb digs into my jawbone. "And you won't have to worry about him anymore."
"No, you can't?—"
"I can do whatever I want." His grip tightens, his fingernails digging into my skin. "That's what you keep forgetting. I own you. I own this house. I own your son. I own every breath you take. And if you can't behave, then I'll remove the one thing that makes you compliant."
"He's my son. You can't do this to me."
"He ismyson." The correction is surgical. "And if you keep forgetting your place, I'll make sure he forgets your face."
Tears stream down my cheeks. I can't stop them. Can't breathe. Can't think.
"Please, Ewan, I'll do anything?—"
"You'll do what I tell you. When I tell you. Without question." He releases my face, and I crumple against the sink. "That's all you've ever had to do, Keira. It's not complicated."
He straightens his jacket, checks his reflection in the mirror as if he didn't just dismantle my entire world with a dozen sentences.
"I expect you back in that dining room in ten minutes." He moves toward the door. "Smile. Apologize to Dashkov. Let him touch you however he wants. And maybe…maybe…I'll reconsider the timing of Hale's departure."
He pauses in the doorway, his silhouette blocking the light. "Oh, and if you're not out in ten minutes…"
He flicks off the light, and darkness swallows me whole.
The door closes—and then…the click of a lock engaging from the outside.
No.
No.
I lunge for the handle, twisting, pulling, slamming my palm against the wood.
He's locked me in. Set me up to fail. Given me an impossible deadline and then stolen any chance of meeting it.
I pound on the door. Call out for help. Scream until my throat goes raw.
But there's only silence.
And the crushing realization that I am utterly, completely alone.
THIRTY-EIGHT
KEIRA
The darkness presses in from all sides, drowning me. My lungs won't fill. My hands won't stop shaking. There's a strange sound coming from somewhere, and it takes me too long to realize it's me.
I'm hyperventilating.
