Beauty in the Broken - Page 118

I sharpen my senses. Movement catches my eye. There are two people in the room, their outlines visible in the dark. A woman, by the shape of her body, and a man. The hammering sound is rain pelting the roof. From under my lashes, I take in the furniture to get an idea of where I am. There’s a bed and television. A kettle and jar with instant coffee packets stand in the circle of lamplight.

Their whispering reaches me.

“He was never going to fall for you,” the woman says. “I was our only hope.”

“You ruined it,” the man replies. “You shouldn’t have shown him the bread rolls.”

Zane? Anne?

Fear, boiling hot, fills my veins. If this is about revenge, I’m dead.

“Go check on her,” Zane says.

“Why me?”

“Fuck it.” He stomps to the chair and yanks my head up by my hair.

I yelp at the pain that doesn’t help my headache.

He lets go with another pull. “She’s awake.”

Anne approaches, her expression hidden in the dark. “I need more light.”

Zane carries the lamp as close as the cord allows and leaves it on the floor.

The light washes over Anne as she regards me with her hands on her hips. “Is she still bleeding?”

“It stopped.”

My voice is scratchy. “What do you want?”

“You can’t be that naïve,” Anne says, her tone mocking.

Zane takes his smartphone from his pocket. “I’m calling Dami.”

“Wait.” Anne grabs his arm. “Let him sweat it out a bit longer. He’ll be easier to outsmart if he panics.”

They’re doing this for money. They’re going to ask for a ransom. They didn’t kidnap me to kill me out of revenge. That doesn’t mean they won’t kill me. No, I’m not that naïve.

“How much?” I ask.

“How much what?” Anne snaps.

“How much is my life worth?”

She grins and looks at Zane.

He answers, “Thirty million.”

He must be joking. “Damian can’t just sign over thirty million. He doesn’t have that kind of cash.”

“No, but he can sell his mine.”

“Sell it?” I choke out.

“We already have an investor lined up.”

Oh, my God. They’re vicious. They found a company that must’ve had its eye on a mine for a while, a company with enough resources.

“Who?” I force from my dry throat.

“Who do you think?” Zane asks.

It can’t be, and yet, it’s the obvious answer.

“Dalton Diamonds?” I whisper, fearful.

“Of course,” Anne says. “Oh, and Damian will also have to hand over the evidence against your father.”

My stomach drops. Harold’s cronies must’ve gotten the funding together. How did they do it? International loans? How they managed, doesn’t matter. If Damian gives in to Anne and Zane’s demands, the mine will fall back into Harold’s hands. That mine means everything to Damian. Every single drop of energy he spent during the last six years went into getting that mine back. It means more to him than money, or he wouldn’t have taken the risk of buying a dying mine. He founded the black diamond initiative and turned a dead project into a profitable one. The mine represents the sum of his existence. If that’s what they want, I’m dead for sure.

“Damian will never give up his mine.”

“You underestimate your value, honey,” Anne says. “He even got rid of Zane for you.”

“What?”

“Shut up,” Zane hisses.

Damian threw Zane out? “I didn’t know.”

“You must be mighty proud,” Anne says bitterly. “You managed to get rid of all of us. Don’t you know it’s nasty not to share, darling?”

“How is this supposed to work?” I ask. “Do you get commission?”

“We’ll get our cut,” Anne replies, “but this alone makes it worth the while.” She lifts her hand and turns it to the light.

A teardrop diamond glitters on her finger. I gasp. She took my engagement ring? How low can a person go?

Taking in my expression, she chuckles. “You didn’t want it, so it shouldn’t matter.”

“You can’t just steal someone’s engagement ring.”

She makes a face. “Don’t tell me you’re superstitious about symbols of love and all that crap.”

I’m not. In all honesty, Damian didn’t give the ring to me with affection or love. He gave it to me so I wouldn’t be publicly humiliated if one of the world’s biggest diamond magnates didn’t give his wife a diamond ring. It would’ve been a clear message that he doesn’t love me. The whole world would’ve known for a fact what they’re only suspecting. The kindness of the act hasn’t dawned on me until now. I accused him of making me a whore and showpiece, but he’s never once publicized the ring or demanded something in exchange. The necklace is a different story, but he’s not guilty where the ring is concerned. I said I didn’t want it, but I suddenly want it back with my whole heart.

“Give it to me,” I say through clenched teeth.

Anne smiles, admiring the stone. “I don’t think so. It’s a nice bonus.”

“How much longer do you want to wait?” Zane asks, sounding irritated.

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