Chapter 4: Price Of The Truth
951 Words
The glass pieces were still on the floor when Milliano dragged Ivy towards the service elevator.
"The will, Milliano," Ivy gasped, her bare feet stinging as they hit the cold concrete of the stairwell. "You said he was the poisoner."
"Walker Jordan doesn't play to win, Ivy. He plays so that no one else can even stay on the board," Milliano said, his eyes darting to the floor.
"He didn't just want you,he wanted the Mondragon assets cleared of any legal red tape. Your mother’s death wasn't a tragedy to him,it was a closing costs adjustment."
They hit the ground floor, bursting out into the rainy New York night. But the black SUV Milliano promised would be there wasn't there. Instead, the street was empty,
"Where is the car" Ivy asked, her voice shaking with fear.
A low sound of an engine answered her. A silver SUV accelerated from the shadows, but it wasn't Milliano’s.
"Ivy, Run" Milliano shoved her toward a narrow alleyway just as three men appeared and chased her.
Ivy ran,her silk dress was ruined,now stripped to its slip, Her tiny legs burned.
She wasn't a marathon runner, she was a woman built for boardrooms and galas,
She rounded a corner near the docks, her breath hitching, when a hand shot out from a doorway.
It wasn't Milliano. It was one of Kristoff’s men.
The blow to her stomach was sudden and sickening, folding her in half. She hit the pavement, the world spinning into a blurred vision of gray.
"Boss said you were a runner," a voice said. A heavy boot hit with her ribs, sending a flash of pain through her chest. "But you’ve run out of road, Princess."
They didn't want her dead,not yet
They wanted her broken,another man grabbed her by her hair, pulling her head back until she saw the sky.
He raised a fist, and the world went dark with the first impact. Then the second.
Ivy felt her consciousness leaving her. Through the swelling in her eyes, she saw the glint of a blade. The will, she thought sluggishly. I’m going to die for a piece of paper.
The air suddenly changed. The rain seemed to freeze as the screech of tires tore through the alley’s silence.
A black armored Cullinan drove into the narrow space, slamming into the attackers' SUV with enough force to send it spinning. The man holding Ivy’s hair let go of her
Walker Jordan didn't step out of the car; he exploded from it.
He moved with enough speed and energy the kind Ivy hadn't seen in the penthouse. He didn't use a gun.
He caught the first man’s throat in a grip that sounded like snapping dry wood. The second lunged with a knife, but Walker pivoted, his movements were swift and he sent the man’s head into the brick wall with a thud.
He didn't stop until they were all down not dead, but ruined.
Walker turned around His clothes were ruined, his face a mask of fury that for a moment, Ivy tried to crawl away from him, too.
"Ivy," he called out. The name sounded like a prayer and a curse.
He was at her side in a second, his large hands hovering over her bruised face, trembling with a terrifying emotion.
He saw the blood on her lip, the purple blooming on her cheek, and the way she flinched from his touch.
"I told you," he whispered, "I told you what happens when you leave my sight."
He scooped her up, ignoring the blood she was smearing on his clothes. He held her against his chest, his heart thundering not from the fight, but from the thought of almost losing his prize.
Back in the back seat of the Cullinan, the partition was up. Walker held her on his lap, his hand cupping the back of her head, forcing her to look at him.
"Milliano said..." Ivy coughed, the taste of blood heavy on her tongue. "He said you killed her. That you’re the poisoner."
Walker leaned in, his nose brushing hers. His eyes weren't the eyes of a businessman or a savior. They were the eyes of a man who would burn the world just to keep the ashes in his pocket.
"Milliano is a dead man walking," Walker murmured, his thumb tracing the line of her swollen lower lip with a tenderness that felt more dangerous than the beating she’d just taken. "I didn't kill your mother, Ivy. I simply didn't stop Kristoff from doing it. I needed you desperate. I needed you to have nowhere to turn but me."
Ivy tried to push him away, but she was too weak. "You’re a monster."
"I’m your husband," he corrected, his voice dropping to a seductive, gravelly low. He leaned down, his lips lingering just an inch from hers, his breath hot against her skin.
"And right now, I’m the only thing keeping your heart beating. You signed the paper, Ivy
Your soul, your blood, and every bruise on this beautiful body belong to me now."
He kissed her not the ghost of a kiss from the cell, but a deep, possessive one that tasted of dominance.
"I’m going to heal you," he whispered against her mouth, his grip tightening until it was almost painful. "And then, I’m going to make you forget there was ever a world outside of this car."
Ivy felt the chill of the message on the mirror. The protector is the poisoner,
As Walker’s hand slid possessively up her thigh, she realized the terrifying truth: she wasn't sure which was worse the enemies at the gate, or the man holding her captive in the dark.
- Writer
