Then, without warning, she seized my wrist and yanked me forward. The next second she toppled backward, stiff as a board. Behind her, a cement mixer was already pouring concrete over the flattened ground.
Clarissa's face went white. "Mr. Stephens, save me—"
Before I could process what had happened, a shadow streaked past the corner of my vision. Hubert hauled Clarissa out.
He didn't give me a chance to speak. His face was stone. He drove his foot into my stomach and sent me skidding three yards across the dirt.
His voice was low, thick with fury. "Lavinia. I gave you a chance."
"Take her to the basement. She comes out when she apologizes. Not before."
Bodyguards dragged me to a car. As they pulled me away, I watched Hubert guide Clarissa into his vehicle with exquisite care, one hand hovering at the small of her back.
Two cars of very different worth drove off in opposite directions.
Just like the distance between Hubert and me. Growing wider with every passing second.
The entire time I was locked in that basement, I refused to apologize.
The sealed space made it hard to breathe. All I could do was curl into myself as tightly as possible, searching for some small scrap of comfort.