Page 105 of Bitter Truths

“Holy shit,” Rebecca whispers. “Bianca.”

“What are you doing here? How did you even—” Katie’s voice climbs an octave.

“I’m here about my alphas.” I slip my hand into my pocket, fingers closing around the zip ties.

“Who are you talking about?” Rebecca asks, but her voice wavers as her eyes track my movements.

“Did you think you would get away with it?”

Katie’s face goes white. “We didn’t⁠—”

“Sit down.”

They freeze.

Years of refuge training, of learning to project authority when needed, of becoming someone who doesn’t get questioned.

“Bianca, this is crazy,” Liz tries, her voice shaking. “Whatever you think happened⁠—”

“I know what happened.” I move closer to the couch, zip ties ready.

Rebecca bolts for the hallway.

I catch her before she makes it three steps, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm behind her back until it strains. She shrieks as I zip-tie her hands together, the plastic cutting deep into her skin when she struggles.

“Anyone else want to run?” I ask, slamming Rebecca back onto the couch with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs.

Katie and Liz shake their heads frantically.

“Smart choice.”

The next few minutes blur together in efficient motion. Zip ties around wrists, all three of them secured on their precious white leather. When Katie opens her mouth to scream, I slap a piece of duct tape across her lips hard enough to split her lower lip underneath.

“You’ll get your turn to talk,” I tell her. “When I’m ready to hear it.”

I pull out my phone and hit record, angling it to capture all three faces clearly.

“State your names for the camera.”

“This is insane,” Rebecca spits. “You can’t just⁠—”

“Rebecca Wells,” I say for her. “VP at Barrett Pharmaceuticals… my guess is you’re fucking Alexander Barrett. I can’t imagine how else you got the job. You were never very bright.” Her eyes widen, confirming my suspicions. “Liz Martinez, professional girlfriend to various executives who are also in relationships. And Katie Preston, social media influencer with two million followers who have no idea the person they’re following is a rapey piece of shit.”

“Bianca, please,” Liz whispers. “You don’t understand⁠—”

“I understand perfectly.” I move closer, holding the phone steady. “I understand that you three participated in abusing four men who couldn’t refuse... I understand that you knew they were being forced to comply.”

Katie makes muffled sounds behind the tape. Tears stream down her face, ruining her perfect makeup.

“Let’s start with you, Rebecca.” I lock eyes with her. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” I lean closer. “Whitney. Weller, Freddie, Owen, and Tristan... Start talking.”

Her face goes pale. “I don’t know what you think happened, but⁠—”

I slap her hard across the face, leaving a bright red mark.