His gaze raked across the room, cold and imperious. "Let me be clear. Once you walk out this door, if a single word of this reaches Savannah Simmons, don't expect me to honor our past ties."
I sagged against the corridor wall, the cold plaster seeping through my clothes. My extremities went numb, as if the blood had simply stopped flowing.
So that was it. The five years I had traded my life for were nothing more than a meticulously orchestrated punishment.
My future, my dignity—all it took was a slight frown from Stella for them to be discarded. In Sebastian's eyes, sacrificing me was simply how things should be.
A laugh bubbled in my chest, but it choked off, replaced by the metallic tang of copper rising in my throat.
A phone shrilled inside the private room. Footsteps approached the door.
Panic seized me. I spun around to flee, only to collide hard with a solid mass—the manager delivering more alcohol.
The tray tipped. The bottle—a rare vintage reserved exclusively for the Fort Valor Military District—crashed to the floor. The sound of shattering glass was deafening.
The manager's face drained of color, then twisted into rage. Before I could apologize, his hand cracked across my face.