Ruthless Heir: Chapter 32

The last thing I remember, I was falling.

Falling into the darkness, wrapped in Gabriel’s arms.

It didn’t seem like the worst way to die.

But I’m not dead.

Not yet, anyway.

“Fuck…” I grumble, slowly coming to.

My head is pounding. My body is soaked through to the bone.

The last thing I want to do is open my eyes.

There’s no way I’ll be greeted by good news.

Not with what I remember.

There was a helicopter. A machine gun. There was screaming. We were separated from my family.

Then, we started to fall.

How the hell could anyone survive that?

My stomach lurches.

No. You survived. That means everyone else could have too.

A pitiful cough jitters from my collapsed lungs, and I just want to hang my head and drift back into unconsciousness.

Nothing hurts when you’re knocked out.

But I’ve been hiding for too long.

Forcing my heavy eyelids open, I try to face whatever harsh reality has come crashing down on me.

But I don’t see anything.

Only more darkness.

That’s when I realize my face has been covered by a suffocating hood.

My heart drops.

This can’t be good.

“Hello?”

My voice feels so small; so insignificant. But it doesn’t matter.

I need to do something. Anything.

Mom was on that bridge. Dad. Rian.

Gabriel.

A deep despair cuts through me as I try not to imagine the worst.

The meeting was going so well.

Sure, Dad and Rian looked angrier than I’d ever seen them before, but at least I got to see them.

I got to hug my mother, and introduce her to my husband.

My husband.

Fuck.

That’s still so weird to think. But it doesn’t change what happened.

Gabriel saved me. He protected me from the chaos with his own body. He held me close as the bridge gave away.

Then what happened?

I can’t remember.

It had felt like we were falling for so long. Then everything went black.

Now, I’m here. Wherever that is.

But where is Gabriel?

I don’t sense his massive presence. I don’t feel his warmth. I’m alone. No one I love is around to comfort me.

What if he died saving me?

What if I never get to tell him that I love him?

Those intrusive thoughts slap behind my throbbing skull as I choke back tears and try to stay strong.

I’ll see him again, I promise myself. One way or another, we’ll be together. Same goes with my family.

But what am I going to have to suffer through before that happens?

A cold tear cascades down my cheek, and I instinctively go to wipe it away. But even if there wasn’t a thick hood draped over my head, I wouldn’t be able to reach my face.

My arms and legs are tied to some kind of chair.

My heart starts to palpitate. My long sighs become short and jittery.

I’m in big fucking trouble.

Who the hell was in that helicopter?

A terrifying pang flashes across my chest when I hear a heavy metal door open, and I realize that I’m about to get my answer.

“I’m checking on her now.”

The sudden appearance of the slithery voice makes my skin crawl. It’s gut-wrenchingly familiar. But where do I recognize it from?

The answer escapes me.

Still, I listen closely as a muffled response comes from what sounds like a cell phone’s speaker. I can’t make it out, but I do understand when the call ends.

Because the voice quickly turns its attention onto me.

“Let’s see how you’re doing, princess.”

My entire body tenses as I feel a huge body approach.

The bag is ripped off my head.

Immediately, I’m flooded with an overwhelming amount of light. I don’t even get a good look at my surroundings before my eyes slam shut again, and I flinch away from the man standing before me.

“Ah, there you are,” the voice taunts. “Thought I might have to wake you up myself.”

A pair of slimy hands clamp around my jaw, and I’m forced to look straight ahead.

Even with my eyes closed, I can smell the evil on my captor’s putrid breath.

“Open up those baby blues now, honey. See the man who saved you from a watery grave.”

“Gabriel saved me,” I somehow find the strength to mutter.

I get a back handed slap to the cheek in response.

“Don’t you ever say that traitor’s name again!”

Another slap sends a hot sting flashing across my face. My neck is snapped in the opposite direction.

Thankfully, this time the putrid man doesn’t feel the need to straighten me out again.

Hell, I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I feel him step back.

Still, my mind is reeling.

Traitor?

No one speaks about my man like that.

With great effort, I force my heavy eyelids to open once more. A ringing has invaded my ears, but the bright lights seem to dim a touch as my vision slowly comes back into focus.

“Where am I?’ I hear myself ask.

This room doesn’t match the dark helplessness I feel inside. It’s not some empty, cement-walled prison cell. Hell, it almost looks like the kind of office my dad, or one of my uncles, might have in their home.

A red-tinted Persian rug stretches out along the floor, slipping beneath a grand mahogany desk. Oakwood bookshelves cover the walls. A red leather chair sits behind it all. Empty.

“You are in hell,” the voice responds.

A dark gust envelops me as I see the back of the man who’s tied me up. His shoulders are slanted, and his back looks malformed and twisted.

He grabs something from the desk, then slurps it down.

When he turns around, I first see the empty brandy glass wrapped around his sharp fingers. His nails are long and have clearly been filed down into pointy claws. His skin is a sickly pale. Deep red veins flow out from beneath his cufflinks, and it’s hard to tell if they’re real or tattoos.

“Who are you?” I ask, not strong enough to lift my head and look up at the monster’s face.

That draws a mean-spirited laugh from the stranger. “Don’t you recognize me, princess? Or did you hit your head on your way off that bridge?”

Without warning, he throws the brandy glass from his hand. It flies past my ear, missing by mere inches, before shattering against the wall ahead.

I can’t help but squirm against my restraints. But there’s nowhere to go. Especially not when the man grabs a fistful of my damp hair and tugs me to the floor.

I hit the ground with a loud, painful thud.

My vision blurs against the pain. But that doesn’t mean I don’t instantly recognize the evil face glaring down at me.

His thin white lips stretch into a mangled grin, exposing those sharp, fang-like teeth. His sunken cheeks vanish into endless darkness. His black eyes sharpen.

“You.”

“Call me Krol, princess,” he says, snapping his neck to the side. “Or call me daddy. Doesn’t really matter.”

Reaching down, he grabs another fistful of my hair and pulls my chair upright.

My stomach drops.

This is the man who tried to kill Roz and me. He’s the man who betrayed Gabriel.

He reeks of evil.

“Where is Gabriel?” I demand to know. But my voice is still so weak, and my question only makes Krol laugh.

“He’s just hanging out,” the bastard taunts. “Waiting for death to come take him away.”

“No!” I shout, my chest nearly bursting. “Liar!”

“Now, why would I lie to you, princess?”

“Don’t you fucking dare call me princess,” I sneer. My fingers curl into fists and I desperately try to break out of my restraints.

It’s no use.

I may be stronger than I once was, but I’ll never be that kind of strong.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Krol insists, rolling his eyes. “What, you think you’re a queen now because you’ve got that fancy ring? I can take it off just as easily as you put it on. Watch.”

“Fuck off,” I spit, trying to squirm away as Krol reaches for my hand.

The effort earns me another backhanded slap.

Once again, my neck snaps to the side. This time, though, I taste the familiar metallic tinge of blood on my tongue.

“Stay still, bitch,” Krol growls. “I’ll only be freeing you from a dreadful responsibility.”

“It’s not a dreadful responsibility,” I mumble.

“Fuck. Gabriel sure did a number on you,” Krol shrugs. His greasy fingers crawl up my hand until they’re wrapped around my ring. “I guess Drago was right to keep sending him after you. It worked out almost perfectly. If only you didn’t grow on him so much.”

“Don’t touch that!” I beg.

But Krol doesn’t listen.

The thorns on my ring dig into my flesh as he tries to twist it from my finger.

“Goddamnit,” he grunts.

The ring barely budges. Not even as my tearing flesh is lubricated with blood.

“It won’t ever come off,” I sneer. “Not for you.”

“Want to bet?” Krol huffs, his pale face turning red with frustration.

Letting go of my bleeding finger, he takes a frantic step back and reaches into his pocket.

My eyes go wide when I see the switchblade he pulls out.

“Leave me alone!” I shout out at him, my voice shaky and filled with terror.

But Krol only seems to revel in my fear.

“No,” he simply says. “I will not leave you alone. Unlike your treacherous little husband, I do as I’m told. And I’ve been ordered to watch you like a fucking hawk. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun. Drago never said anything about keeping you in one piece. All we really have to do is keep you alive for the next nine months or so. Then, it’s over for you. Until then, maybe we can get into a little body horror. Huh, princess? Fuck. It would turn me on so fucking much to amputate that tiny finger bone of yours.”

Krol licks his lips as he steps forward. But suddenly, my fear isn’t concentrated on the knife.

“The next nine months?” I gulp, before the words catch in my throat.

No…

“That’s right, princess. You’re pregnant. But it’s not your baby growing in that perfect little stomach. No. It won’t belong to you for long. That child will be my meal ticket. Want me to cut you open and show you?”

“I… I…” I don’t know what to say.

There’s nothing to say.

My eyes clamp shut as a fitful headache rises up behind my skull. The pain is accompanied by the strangest visions. Impossible visions.

Visions of my future. A future that’s about to be torn away from me.

It’s a future where Gabriel and I are together; where we raise a child, and rule an empire. A future where I’m with the man I love; where I am the woman I’ve always wanted to be.

A future where everyone I care about is happy.

A future where I’m happy.

It all burns away in an instant, turned to ash just as quickly it appeared.

It feels like a lifetime has been ripped from my soul and crushed before my very eyes.

I’m empty.

And then I’m furious.

Especially as I feel the broad end of Krol’s blade slip beneath my chin.

His cruel laugh reverberates through my aching skull as he forces me to look up at him.

But I don’t give him the look he wants.

I don’t give up.

Ripping my eyes open, I sneer back at him with all the hate in the world.

Only one man is allowed to bring a knife so close to my throat. Only one man is allowed to tie me up and make me bleed.

I’ll do anything to get back to that man.

“You’re dead, Krol,” I spit.

My bloody saliva slashes across his sunken face. But he hardly even flinches. Hell, he doesn’t even move to wipe it away.

Instead, he lets it all drip down his cheeks as he leans in nice and close.

“And who’s going to kill me?” he asks, his putrid breath making me retch.

Still, I force myself to meet him.

“I am.”

“And how are you going to do that, princess?”

“I’ll tell you exactly how. First, you’re going to untie me. Then, you’re going to pin me down to that desk like a fucking man and prove you’re strong enough to cut this ring off my finger.”

“I don’t see how that will lead to my death.”

“You’ll see it nice and clear when I take that stupid little knife from your slimy hand and shove it between your eyes. Understand?”

A deep belly laugh crackles out of Krol’s thin white lips. “How about I just cut your fucking tongue off and make this process a whole lot more peaceful for myself?”

“Because anything you do to me will be paid back to you tenfold. And if I don’t get the pleasure of fucking you up myself, then don’t you think for a second Gabriel won’t hunt you down to the ends of the earth.”

For a second, it almost looks like my threat frightens the human serpent. But just as quickly as his face turned to stone, it twists back into a taunting snarl.

“Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel,” Krol grumbles, shaking his head. “I’ve got bad news for you, honey. He’s not going to be around long enough to make anyone pay. Traitors get what they deserve, and he’s getting exactly what he deserves at this very fucking moment.

“Whatever you give him, he can take it,” I whisper.

But that assurance is more for myself than it is for Krol. My heart is on the brink of collapse.

What anguish are these bastards putting Gabriel through?

Whatever it is, it can’t be pretty.

But I can’t give up. For his sake.

I know he won’t give up on me.

“No, he won’t,” Krol simply states. Then, he pulls his phone back out of his pocket and checks the screen. The glow makes his gaunt pale face look somehow even more skeletal. “Your precious Gabriel won’t last until dawn. And if you keep talking, neither will your tongue. Hell, I might even start cutting off limbs just for fun, princess. In fact, we keep a hot iron nearby just for that purpose. I figure I could turn you into a stump and still keep you alive long enough to take your baby.”

“You aren’t taking shit,” I rasp. But the strength is quickly draining from my voice.

My baby.

Fucking hell. I want to cry. I want to scream. But I can’t.

Hold on, Gabriel.

For me.

For our unborn child.

“Wrong, princess,” Krol snaps. “I’m taking everything. And I’m going to enjoy every last second of it. Now, shut the fuck up.”

Retracting his blade, Krol cocks back his fist.

I don’t even feel him make contact with my skull.

The world just goes black.