Page 89 of Gilded Shackles
My heart slams against my ribs so hard it hurts. Every instinct screamsrunbut there's no air, no light, no control. I'm lifted, half-dragged, knees scraping concrete, shoulder hitting something solid as they shove me forward.
I think of the baby. The thought crashes through the panic like a fist through glass. My baby. Our baby. I curl inward, trying to protect what they don't know is there, and the fear becomes something different. Something with teeth.
The world tilts. I'm thrown into a vehicle. My body hits metal. Pain blooms across my hip. The doors slam shut, the echo reverberating inside my skull.
Dark. Hot. The smell of oil and blood. My pulse is a wild animal in my throat.
"Natalia," I whisper, straining against the restraints. Her shoulder presses against mine. She's shaking. But she doesn't answer.
The engine starts. Time stretches and folds. Every second a lifetime.
When the van stops, I'm hauled out, feet scraping concrete. Someone tears the hood off and the light nearly blinds me.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust.
Then I see her.
My mother.
Gayle Donovan, in all her manicured, perfect glory.
For one split, stupid, disoriented second, I feel relief. "Mother?" The word tears out of me like a prayer. "Oh my God, you found me."
For one dizzy, impossible heartbeat, I think she's here to save me.
She gives me that cool, reassuring smile I've known my whole life. "It's okay, sweetheart."
I almost cry with relief. Of course she came. Because despite everything, she's still my mom, and moms don't just...
Then she nods.
A tiny motion. Barely noticeable.
One of the men steps forward. Natalia's hood is yanked off. She's gasping, disoriented, hair a wreck.
And that's when it hits. When I see her face and the men still holding guns and the way my mother doesn't even flinch.
My stomach drops. The air leaves my lungs.
No.
No, no, no.
This isn't a rescue.
"Mother?" My voice cracks. "What the hell is going on?"
She smiles. That same smile she wore when she wanted to look benevolent. "Hello, darling. You look well."
"You kidnapped me!"
"I rescued you." She says it like we're arguing semantics. "From your husband, from that family, from a life you don't understand."
The laugh that bursts out of me is unhinged. "You've officially lost your mind."
Her eyes narrow. "I lost everything because of you. Egor. The connections. The money. But this..." She gestures at the armed men, the room, the cage she's built. "This will fix everything."
"What are you talking about?"
