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She shrunk back into her seat as though it had the power to protect her and blinked to clear her vision.
Immediately she wished she hadn’t.
The man coming toward her was someone she knew.
Not just someone.
He was the man who still haunted her nightmares. Haunted a lot of her waking moments as well. He was why she had fled from her home and the world she had been raised in, seeking freedom and a new life.
A new life she’d built for herself, a life that was slipping through her fingers, disappearing as her old life dug its claws into her and pulled her back.
Why was he here?
Did this have nothing to do with Dark Beauty and the plot to overthrow the government?
Was it about her and her past?
Was it her fault Christian had been hurt or even killed?
If that was the case, Lila knew she would never forgive herself. Without Christian and everything she had worked so hard to build for herself, how would she resist being sucked back into the life her parents had wanted for her?
No.
She had to be strong.
For her baby.
She had to do whatever it took to get away, to get back to Christian. No way would she allow her baby to be thrown into the world she had fought so hard and for so long to escape.
This baby was everything to her and very possibly all she had left of the man she was falling in love with.
Air was still wheezing in and out of her chest. Lila was powerless to do anything about it, especially as the man leaned down so his face was close enough that she could feel his hot breath against her skin. The feel of it and the smell of it threw her back in time, to months of her life she desperately wanted to forget.
When he reached out to lay his disgusting hand on her shoulder, her swirling nausea peaked, and she threw up.
“Eww, she vomited all over herself!” the man shrieked, sounding very much like a little girl instead of a fully grown man in his late sixties.
The woman laughed, and Lila realized that she recognized that voice too.
Turning her head, she saw the man’s wife sitting in a plush leather seat next to the one the man had occupied. Jet black hair hung down her back, huge eyes as dark as midnight, and long black lashes fanning out against paper-pale skin. Was it possible that this woman was in fact Dark Beauty, and that Lila’s own past was somehow connected to this plot?
Her head spun, and when the man backhanded her, she plummeted dangerously close to unconsciousness.
Valiantly she clung to consciousness, the idea of being completely vulnerable to the pair was enough to make her almost throw up again.
“I’m not sitting here with her stinking like that for the rest of the flight,” the man snapped.
The woman merely continued to laugh.
“Stop it,” he growled. “I mean it, she stinks.”
“Then take her clothes off,” the woman said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’ll have to remove the cuffs.”
“So? We’re on a plane. Where exactly is she going to go?”
“I suppose,” the man whined. Had he been this pathetic when she’d known him before?
