My stomach sank. That exined the heavy, sluggish pulse in


    my body. I was on my own.


    Chole crouched in front of me, resting her elbow on her knee


    and the lighter under my chin. “You’re brave. I’ll give you that.


    But brave girls die too. Bravery makes you reckless.”


    I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.


    Her face twisted. “Say something, you whore.”


    Nothing.


    Stay calm. Stay quiet. Don’t provoke her.


    She stood up abruptly and pped me hard across the face.


    My head jerked sideways with the blow. My jaw throbbed. A


    metallic tang flooded my mouth.


    “Still quiet?” she spat. “You think silence makes you strong? No,


    sweetheart. It makes you boring. I can’t kill boring.”


    She paced again, her boots thudding against the hardwood. “But


    I can maim boring. You want to see what I’m capable of? I’ll


    have my men take turns with you. Then I’ll cut off your legs


    and feed them to dogs. And your arms? <b>I’ll </b>hang them on the


    gates of the Windsor estate like art. Then I’ll douse this pretty


    little house in kerosene and burn it down with you in it.”


    Another p. I didn’t turn my head this time. My cheek red


    with pain.


    “Why?” she snarled. “Why don’t you scream? Why don’t you


    beg?”


    I swallowed blood and calmly said, “Because you won’t let me <ol><li>go. Begging won’t change that.” </li></ol>


    Her nostrils red. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked


    my face toward hers. “Ungrateful bitch. You don’t even appreciate the mercy I’m offering. I’m giving you a chance to


    live, and you’re pissing on it.”


    I winced but didn’t speak. Every muscle in my body wanted to


    scream, but I held back.


    “You think being quiet makes you some kind of martyr?” she


    hissed. “You think it makes you holy?” Sheughed, high-


    pitched and shaking. “You’re just a maniptive slut who fooled Ethan, tricked the media, and probably spread your legs


    for that Alexander/creep.”


    I blinked. I couldn’t react. I wouldn’t.


    “You’re not beautiful. You’re not smart. You’re just lucky. But


    <b>Chapter </b>1


    that ends now.”


    She raised her hand again–another p, harder than before.


    Then another.


    “Say something, you dumb slut!”


    When I finally opened my mouth, my voice was low and steady. “Murder is still a crime, Chole. You kill me, you’ll spend


    your life in prison.”


    She stared at me, stunned for half a second.


    Then she screamed, “Who the fuck do you think you are? You


    think thew matters to people like me? I am thew! I’m the


    Windsor heir, you piece of trash!”


    She panted, sweating now, and pped me again. “You’ll rot for


    this. You’ll wish I killed you faster.”


    My cheek throbbed. The coppery taste of blood coated the


    inside of my mouth as I slowly shifted my jaw, making sure


    nothing was broken. My lip was split, and the side of my face


    burned from the force of Chole’s p. Still, I didn’t react. I didn’t


    give her that satisfaction.


    She stood in front of me, panting, her knuckles white around


    the lighter in her hand, her eyes wild. Her breathing was erratic,


    hair frizzed, face streaked with sweat and makeup.


    Charter 81


    <b>“</b>Say something!<b>” </b>she snapped, voice shaking<b>. </b><b>“</b>Why won’t <b>you </b>beg?! You should be down on your knees!”


    I tilted my head slightly, as far as the restraints would allow.


    “And then what, Chole?” My voice was calm, low. “You’d let me


    go?”


    She scoffed, lips twitching into a cruel smirk. “No. But I’d enjoy


    it.”


    That was exactly what I wanted her to say.


    I exhaled slowly, ignoring the sting in my ribs. “So either way, I


    die. You just want a show!”


    Chole’s grin faltered.


    “Then let me ask you something,” I continued, voice steady


    despite the pulse pounding in my ears, “what do you think


    Ethan will do when he finds out what you’ve done?”


    Chole’s expression twisted, but she stayed quiet.


    “If you kill me, he’ll never forgive you,” I said. “He’ll me


    himself. He’ll grieve. And you? You’ll always be the one who


    ended his wife.”


    Her nostrils red. “He’s not grieving. He’s already over you.”


    “No, he’s not,” I said softly. “You saw what happened at the


    Chajeer #1


    airport. If he were truly over me, would he have chased me like


    that? Would he have picked you up only after I left him lying


    there?”


    Chole’s face went pale, and for a moment, her grip on the lighter


    loosened.


    “Wasn’t it my p that made him show you affection? Do you


    think it was love, or just guilt?” I leaned forward a fraction. “If


    you kill me, thest image in his mind will be the woman he


    never got to apologize to. You won’t win him that way, Chole.


    You’ll lose him forever!”


    Thán