"She’s a newbie—wouldn’t it be easy for you to push the blame onto her?" He spat, then stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "I'm sorry. But your right hand is ruined; it's no use to you anymore. Dr. Ingram may be inexperienced now, but she still has the potential to become a renowned physician. Forget the agreement we had before. It's over."
The faint curve of Augustus' lips began to flatten into something dangerous.
"Find four cars," he said coldly. "Tie this filthy woman's hands and feet to each of them, and drive in four different directions. I want to see how many pieces she ends up in."
Then his gaze flicked to my maimed hand and his brow arched.
"Oh, right. One hand is already useless. Tie her neck instead."
The bodyguards really did bring ropes and fastened my limbs—and my neck—to four gleaming Rolls-Royces.
I struggled desperately, my body shaking.
Darwin leaned close, murmuring in a soothing tone, "Mr. Cordova won't really kill you. He just wants to teach you a lesson. Bear with it quietly; it'll be over soon."
Behind him, Beatrice let out a muffled sob.
Darwin spun around and hurried toward her, leaving me at the mercy of engines rumbling to life.