Chapter 20

Hunter opened the safe, and I practically tumbled out, my legs wobbling like they belonged to a newborn gazelle. My chest fell flat as I dragged in air, still shivering from the merciless darkness.

I had no idea how many hours had passed since Darius had locked me in there, but the evening sunlight streaming through the windows hinted that it had been far too long. The sharp, tangy scent of melted cheese wafted through the mansion, making my stomach twist.

I wanted to scream, to yell at Hunter, but fear kept me in check. My face was still sore from crying, and my throat burned from the screams that had gone unanswered. If I lost it now, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t end up back in that hellhole.

Instead, I straightened up, wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, and stumbled toward the bathroom without a word. The silence between Hunter and me was dense, but I didn’t care. He wasn’t worth my words.

Once inside the bathroom, I splashed my face with cool water, letting it cascade over my heated skin. The mirror didn’t lie—my face was blotchy, my eyes bloodshot, and the dark circles under them betrayed the emotional beating I’d endured. But I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me like this. I refused to come across as weak.

A soft knock on the door startled me. “Miss Cartwright,” Harris’s gentle and familiar voice called. “Dinner is ready.”

I hesitated, gripping the edge of the sink. I wasn’t hungry—not for food, anyway.

What I wanted was revenge.

“I’m not eating,” I called back, but my voice came out hoarse, betraying my exhaustion.

Harris, ever patient, didn’t leave. “Covering in their presence will only make you look weak, Miss” he said, his tone measured. “You can’t let them think they’ve won. Now, can you?”

I stared at my reflection, his words sinking in. He was right. Damn it, he was always right. If I hid away, I might as well hand them the victory on a silver platter. I wouldn’t let those three ape heads think they had the upper hand. I squared my shoulders, drying my face with a towel.

“You’re right, Harris,” I muttered, opening the door to find Harris waiting with his usual composed demeanor. “Might as well get this over with.”

The dining room was as grand as ever, but tonight it felt like a battlefield. The long table stretched between us, a fortress of lasagna, wine, and sides. Darius, Hunter, and Jace were already seated, their eyes snapping to me as I entered. I kept my chin high and my expression neutral, taking a seat as if nothing had happened.

“Ah, the princess decided to grace us with her presence,” Darius drawled, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face. “Did you enjoy your nap?”

I ignored him, reaching for the wine glass in front of me. The rich aroma of lasagna filled the air, but my appetite had fled the moment I sat down. Still, I forced myself to take a small bite, chewing mechanically. I wouldn’t let him get to me.

“Cat got your tongue?” Darius pressed, his voice mocking. “You’ve been awfully quiet since your little time out.”

My fingers tightened around the stem of the wine glass, the sharp edge of his words slicing through my self-control. The glass creaked under my grip, but I won’t let him see how much he was getting under my skin.

“Easy there,” Hunter chimed in. “Wouldn’t want to break the glass, little monster.”

I ignore Hunter, reserving the look of I-wish-you-dead for Darius. “Don’t you have anything better to do than run your mouth?”

“Not when you make it so entertaining,” Darius replied, his grin widening.

The tension in the room crackled wildly. I was teetering on the edge, and they knew it. Darius leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he delivered the final blow.

“Wonder what else you can use that grip on,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

The glass shattered in my hand, the stem snapping cleanly as shards bit into my palm. Pain flared, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I lifted my hand, blood welling from the cut, and wrapped a napkin around it as casually as if I were wiping my mouth.

“Oops,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.” I met Darius’s gaze, my smile sharp enough to draw blood. “In your wildest dreams, bud.”

Hunter snorted, trying to hide his laugh behind a cough, but Darius didn’t look amused anymore. His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out whether I was bluffing.

Harris appeared at my side, his presence a welcome relief. “Shall I bring you another glass, Miss Elise?”

“I would like that, please, Harris,” I replied, handing him the bloodied napkin as if it were nothing more than a crumpled tissue. “Thank you.”

Darius opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a pointed look. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to test my grip firsthand? I mean, it seems I break things with it. Snap them in half.”

The table went silent. Hunter was evidently fighting for his life behind his napkin, while Jace looked surprised.

And for once, Darius didn’t have a snarky comeback, and I relished the moment. It was a small victory, but in a house where they held all the cards, I’d take what I could get.

As Harris refilled my glass, I leaned back in my chair, letting the wine warm my throat. My hand throbbed, the cut stinging with every movement, but I didn’t care. Pain was nothing compared to the satisfaction of knocking Darius down a peg.

Let them think they were winning. Let them believe they had me cornered. I’d play their game for now, but they had no idea what I was capable of.