Page 57 of Palace of Betrayal

“Of course you do. He’s the one collecting the gems, but then you knew that didn’t you? Did he tell you where the auction would be? Or doesn’t he trust you enough?”

“I know.”

Bebe shook her head. “Nah, you don’t have a clue.”

“Proenia.”

Bebe would’ve pumped the air with triumph at Atticus’s need to peacock and prove her wrong if her hands were free. “Proenia. So that’s why they sent people to help you get control. They need this to work so they can get their auction approved by The Collector.”

“Enough.” Atticus sliced his hand through the air with finality. “Time for you to have a few moments with Mr Wojcik to remind you who’s in charge here.”

Wojcik appeared in the doorway behind Atticus, the slight rock of the boat reminding her of where they were. She’d felt the yacht moving so guessed they were a mile out to sea by the time she was knocked out, which meant they could be God knew where by now. If she got away, she could probably swim to shore but she’d rather not do it bleeding and attracting sharks.

“Albin, how’s the family?” Bebe had never been one to face danger timidly and more than once it had gotten her into trouble. Usually, her attitude worked in her favour and threw the enemy off their game. Men were easy creatures to read and being bested by a woman, either verbally or physically, didn’t sit well. She didn’t have the physical strength to bust the ties, but she might be able to convince him to cut them off so he could prove what a big man he was.

“You whore. You’re going to pay for every single second that my brother suffered.”

Bebe shrugged. “I can’t be held responsible for him having to grow up looking at your ugly face.”

Wojcik produced a flick knife and rolled it in his fingers like some B-movie thug. Her heart rate remained calm as she assessed the situation. Atticus had left the room, but she knew there were at least the four men who’d grabbed her on board as well as Wojcik on the ship. “What’s he paying you, Wojcik?”

The man paused at her question and cocked his head to the side. “Shut up.”

He placed the knife on the side table out of her reach and removed his jacket, rolling his sleeves up his forearms, revealing an ugly burn scar on the right. She’d heard rumours that he’d killed his parents in a house fire for hurting his brother but that was unconfirmed. If she were normal, perhaps she’d feel guilt for killing his brother, but the images of the things he’d done to those women and children absolved any feelings of regret. It was a blessing to the world he was dead, and given the first chance, his brother would be joining him.

Kicking the chair from the dressing table closer he yanked Bebe by the arm and sat her on the chair, her arms still behind her, tying her ankles to the legs, with zip ties from his pocket. Of course he’d carry zip ties. Bad guy 101.

Satisfied, he stood and smirked at her, his slick, dark hair falling over his forehead before he pushed it back with both hands. “Now we have some fun.”

Bending his knee, he punched her in the gut in a low jab that had the air leaving her lungs so fast she struggled to draw oxygen. Wojcik followed up with several right jabs to the ribs that made her grunt in pain before she could hide it.

“Ah, now we see if you’re so big and scary or just a little girl playing games.”

Coughing, Bebe took a second to get her breathing under control before she responded. “Anyone can beat a person who’s bound, but I doubt very much you could beat me if I was free. You don’t have what it takes, Wojcik. You’re soft like your brother.”

“Don’t speak of him.”

“Do you know he wept as he lay dying in a pool of his own piss and blood? He cried like a baby wanting his mama.”

Rage coated his features, blood vessels on his cheeks so prominent she thought he might do the job for her and have a stroke.

He pounced and grabbed her chin in a tight hold. “I’m going to enjoy fucking your body while you die beneath me.”

Bebe ejected that vile thought from her brain and smirked. “I thought we established you haven’t got what it takes.”

A below of rage left him as he bent and cut the ties on her ankles, before grabbing her elbow. He kicked the chair away as he spun her, so she was face down on the bed, before kneeling on the base of her spine, causing her ribs to scream in pain. The sound of his flick knife opening had her stilling as he ran the blade down the back of her neck. The sting of the blade nicking her skin almost made her flinch, but she resisted the impulse knowing she was getting what she wanted. He was responding exactly how she’d predicted he would.

“Not so brave now, are we?”

“Cut these ties and let’s find out.”

Wojcik ran the blade down her spine, cutting through the fabric of the blouse she wore, and she was glad the bra she’d chosen was silk and not lace. If she had to fight in it, she didn’t want her body exposed to that hideous man’s eyes. Spreading her feet wide to add balance, she got ready in case he did cut the ties on her wrists and she had her shot.

As he touched the blade to the plastic, a sound outside caught his attention.

“Wojcik, get here now.”

Frustration made her grit her teeth and Wojcik swore in his native tongue.