Soon, the car stopped at a rundown private club on the edge of town. When the private room door opened, dozens of filthy vagrants poured out and surged toward me like a tide. As soon as they saw me, their eyes went ugly and predatory. My chest tightened.
I turned instinctively, but Grayson’s bodyguards had already sealed off the exit. Within seconds, a swarm of guards pressed in from the corridors. I had nowhere to run; they pinned me to the floor.
From across the room, a pair of red heels clicked closer.
Alyssa, the woman he’d said he’d “sent away,” walked up and planted herself in front of me, alive and steady.
She grabbed my hair and started slapping me, one hard blow after another. “Bitch! You killed my baby. You think you deserve anything? You fell for a fake miscarriage report and got fooled. Stupid!”
Grayson cleared his throat, looking shifty. “Amara, I already know that Alyssa was the one who pulled me out of Grayridge. I won’t hold your lies against you, but you shouldn’t have hurt Alyssa and my child. Today, she needs to get her revenge.”