CHAPTER 6: THE PRICE OF HER TRUTH

ALARIC'S POV

I know when someone is about to lie to me.

It's in the twitch of their lips, the flutter in their pulse and the way their eyes search the room like it holds an easier version of the truth they're so afraid to tell.

But right now after giving me her choice---- not like she had any by the way; it was just for sport.

----- Zariah doesn't flinch.

She just stands in front of me like she's preparing to die; with her shoulders squared and her jaw tight. 

Her eyes are heavy with something like guilt, but also defiance— always that damn defiance.

"I'm not who you think I am," she says in a low voice.

I swirl the glass of bourbon---- which a servant brought to me---- in my hand and take a slow sip from it.

"That much is obvious."

However she doesn't blink or nod, instead she says;

"My real name is Zariah Noelle Vann."

I don't react... yet.

After all, she should know that I already know her full name for me to have called her by her first name yesterday.

Seeing my lack of reaction, she continues, "My fiance, Luc Cruz, was going to force me to marry him. My father was the head of the Vann Cartel and when he died, Luc took over everything so the engagement was just part of the handover."

I already know all of this, but I admit hear it all from her sounds better.

She swallows and clear her throat before adding;

"The girl you fucked?... and you marked wasn't a whore. She was the bride who ran. I'm that bride"

Hmming, I toss the rest of the bourbon back and set the glass down gently on the bar.

Then I look at her, really look and see her chest rising and falling in uneven waves, and I can't help but let out a smile at that.

She thinks I'm going to explode, yell or maybe strike her.

... She should know better by now---- I don't raise my voice and I don't raise my hand, at least not at her.

Instead I can do somethings worse that those.

I step closer, so close that she has to tilt her head to meet my eyes.

"So?" I say quietly.

Taken aback, she blinks. "So?"

"So you're not a whore, you're a liar instead."

She flinches like I slapped her and I have to wonder why because I've told her this exact words before.

... Maybe it's because she owned up to tell me herself.

She shouldn't feel bad, if anything I'm proud she did the necessary without waiting for me to probe her.

I reach out and brush her jaw with my fingers, just barely.

"Do you think I care who you used to be?" I ask, watching her lips tremble.

"Your last name doesn't make you valuable. What matters is what you're worth to me now."

Her mouth parts, "You don't mean that."

I smile. "I don't care what you ran from, I care what you bring to me now; Leverage, Chaos and War."

"I'm not an asset."

"Oh, sweetheart." I call, letting out a low, mocking chuckle. 

"You were never anything but an asset."

Her narrow immediately at my words and I almost smile again, "But you tattooed me like property."

"And you signed your body over the second you walked into my suite and played pretend. Did you think I didn't know you were lying?"

She steps back and I follow her immediately.

"I should have let Luc have you," I let out. "At least he knows how to break in a mouthy bitch."

She gasps then and slaps me.

And it fucking stings, not the pain from it but the audacity she had to do it.

Not many of my men would try to talk back at me, but she just slapped me.

I smile dangerously then nod toward the hallway. 

"You just made the next step easier."

Gasping her hands fly to her mouth as if she just realised what she had done and she tries to run again.

I let her get as far as the back hallway---- that's long enough to think she might have a shot---- while I walk leisurely behind her.

Just then, one of my guards---- without an instruction from me---- tries to stop her and she surprises me by pulling out a blade from her boot— which is both clever and stupid— and slashes his arm open. 

Then he screams--- shamelessly--- and lets go of her instantly.

And my patience dies.

Quickly I grab her by the waist and slam her against the wall hard enough to cause her to gasp.

She kicks her legs about but I grip her throat and squeeze, hard enough to cause her to shut the hell up, but not to choke.

"You don't get to be reckless anymore," I growl into her ear.

"You're a monster," she hisses.

"And you're my fucking responsibility now; I take care of my messes."

Turning I nod at two of my men nearby, giving them the permission.

"Put her in the cell."

------------------------

The dungeon beneath my estate isn't for prisoners, it's for traitors, with stone walls, a steel door, no windows or mattress---- they don't need one anyway---- and one bulb light in the hallway.

Zariah screams the whole way down but I don't stop her from screaming.

When the guards open one of the cell doors and place her in, I finally walk in.

She's pacing, barefoot---- yes, I had them remove it to avoid any more sudden surprises---- and furious.

I take my time, lean against the wall and let her rage on.

"You can't keep me here!"

"I can."

"You're insane."

"No, I'm focused."

She rushes at me but I catch her wrists mid-air.

"You've cost me time, and will cause me blood, and lives," I say. 

"And you'll repay that with every second and every breath."

"I'd rather die than be your pet," she snarls, struggling against me.

"You're not a pet," I correct then yank her closer and she gasps.

"You're a warning."

"To who?"

"To every man who thinks he can touch what belongs to me."

Scoffing, she struggles even more and I let her shove me away.

She's breathing heavily and her eyes are literally burning holes on my back while I step out and close the cell door, giving her a warning look.

"You belong to me now; start acting like it."

Then I lock the door, place the key in my pocket and leave her there in the dark.