Chapter 491
Chapter 491:
Silence filled the room. It was heavy, thick with the metallic scent of copper.
Lucian stood up. He walked over to the piano. He didn’t look at her face. He looked at the keyboard.
It was a mess. A grotesque abstract painting of red on black and white.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
He reached out and took Skye’s hand. She tried to pull away, but she had no strength left. He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed at her split fingertips. The tenderness was more terrifying than the violence.
“Elena arrives today,” Lucian said casually, wiping a streak of blood from her palm. “She handles the… logistics of the Syndicate. She hates waste. When she sees this piano… when she sees you wearing this artifact…” He looked at the bloodstains on the silver silk. “She will see you as a liability p>
Skye’s breath hitched. “You did this to provoke a war with your own partner p>
Lucian smiled. “Elena thinks she owns me because she holds the purse strings. I want her to see that I break my own toys. You are the hammer, Skye. Not the nail p>
He turned and walked to the door. “Sleep here. On the floor. Don’t touch anything else p>
The door clicked shut. The lock engaged.
Skye slid off the bench and collapsed onto the Persian rug. Her hands throbbed in sync with her heart. She curled into a ball, cradling her wounded fingers against her chest.
She looked at the bloody piano. She looked at the ruined dress.
Alistair had signaled Hold on.
But as Skye closed her eyes, drifting into a feverish sleep, she wondered if there would be anything left of her to hold onto by the time he arrived.
Skye woke to the sensation of a boot nudging her ribs.
She groaned, her body a map of aches. Her hands were stiff claws, the bandages Tessa must have applied while she slept feeling tight and restrictive.
“Get up,” Lucian’s voice came from above. “The sun is down. The vampires are out p>
Skye pushed herself up. She was back in the red dress; someone had changed her while she was unconscious. The violation of that thought made her skin crawl. She noticed her feet were no longer bare; sleek black stilettos had been strapped to her feet, transforming her once again into the perfect doll.
“I can’t play,” she rasped, holding up her bandaged hands. “Unless you want me to bleed on the roulette table next p>
𝗝𝘰𝗂𝗇 𝘁𝘩𝗲 𝘤o𝗆𝗺𝗎𝗇і𝘵y 𝖺𝗍 𝘣e.𝖼o𝗆
Lucian checked his watch. “No piano tonight. Tonight, you’re just decoration. We have a guest. Mr. Vance p>
Skye’s mind, groggy from exhaustion, sharpened instantly. Mr. Vance. The Texan oil tycoon she had seen earlier at the casino. Not a relative of Sienna Quinn, thankfully, but a notorious predator in his own right.
“I’m not an escort,” Skye said, standing up. Her knees wobbled, but she locked them.
“You are whatever I say you are,” Lucian said, turning to the door. “And right now, you are the bait that’s going to make Vance sign over his drilling rights p>
The drive to the casino was silent. Skye sat as far from Lucian as possible.
When they entered the VIP suite, the air was thick with smoke and testosterone. Mr. Vance sat at the head of the poker table, a mountain of a man with a red face and eyes that looked like wet stones. He wore a massive cowboy hat and spoke with a thick Texas drawl.
“Graves!” Vance boomed. “And the little lady from the plaza! I saw the video online. Feisty p>
Lucian pushed Skye forward. “She’s all yours for the evening, Vance. Keep her entertained while we discuss the contract p>
Skye felt the blood drain from her face. She looked at Lucian, but he was already sitting down, picking up a deck of cards. He was testing her. He wanted to see if she would break, if she would beg him to save her.
Vance reached out and grabbed Skye’s wrist, pulling her onto the arm of his chair. “Come here, sugar. Let’s see those magic fingers p>