chapter153
Oriana looked at Elysia’s stunned expression and, assuming she had finally broken her spirit, leaned in with a smug, triumphant grin. “That’s right. Tarquin Bradford.”
Elysia’s brow furrowed, her mind racing to reconcile the man she knew with the name being used as a weapon. “What exactly is your connection to Tarquin?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Oriana snapped. “Just know that whatever bond we share is far more substantial than anything you could hope for. You’re a nobody, Elysia. You wouldn't even be a footnote in Mr. Bradford’s life.”
Elysia felt a surge of silent, white-hot irony. I’m his wife, for heaven’s sake! She bit her tongue, the confidentiality agreement they had signed acting as a physical barrier to the truth. She couldn't reveal her identity, not here, and certainly not to a woman like Oriana.
“Did Tarquin send you?” Elysia asked, her voice steadying. “Did he order you to force a confession out of me for what happened to Gage?”
Oriana’s eyes flickered. She couldn't admit the truth—that it was Nola Slater who had instigated this, not Tarquin himself. But she wasn't about to let a detail like that ruin her leverage. “You don’t need the specifics. All you need to know is that if you don't cooperate, you won't be walking out of these ruins today.”
“And if I do confess?” Elysia retorted. “Do I leave unharmed then?”
Oriana’s silence was answer enough. A confession was only the beginning; once she had it on tape, she intended to make Elysia suffer even more.
“So, whether I talk or stay silent, the outcome is the same,” Elysia said, her gaze turning calculating. “Why should I make it easy for you?”
Oriana glared at her. “Because a confession might buy you a measure of mercy. Don’t test my patience.”
Elysia clenched her jaw. She didn't know if Oriana was bluffing about Tarquin’s involvement, but the mere possibility that he was targeting her because of the divorce made her blood boil. If he was truly behind this, he was far from the gentleman he pretended to be.
Deciding to pivot, Elysia lowered her voice, sounding suddenly defeated. “You’re so desperate for this confession because you have a mission to complete, right? Perhaps we have common ground after all.”
“Oh?” Oriana asked, her suspicion piqued.
“I can give you what you want—a recording, a video, whatever you need,” Elysia said. “But I have one condition.”
Oriana scoffed. “You aren't in a position to negotiate.”
“What if I can get you back with Keaton Huber?” Elysia asked calmly. “What’s more important to you? Hurting me, or reclaiming your place at Keaton’s side?”
The bait was perfect. Oriana’s eyes flickered with a sudden, intense interest. The loss of her status as Keaton’s girlfriend was the wound that had never healed. “You? You think you have that kind of influence?”
“I’m just an ordinary person,” Elysia said with practiced confidence. “Mr. Huber may not think of me often, but I know exactly how to push the right buttons to reunite you two. I have a plan, but I can’t explain it like this.”
Oriana hesitated, the lure of her former life battling with her desire for revenge. “How would you manage it?”
“Untie me first,” Elysia demanded.
Oriana’s brow furrowed in distrust.
“I’m asking you to free my hands, not let me go,” Elysia pressed, her voice echoing in the hollow room. “Are you saying you and your entire crew are afraid of one unarmed woman?”
Stung by the challenge and blinded by her own greed, Oriana turned to the bald henchman. “Untie her.”
The ropes were cut, and Elysia immediately flexed her wrists, the blood rushing back into her hands. A wave of immense relief washed over her. As long as she was bound, she was a victim. But now that her hands were free, the game had changed. If they tried to touch her again, she was ready to fight back with everything she had.
“Alright,” Oriana pressed, leaning forward eagerly. “Spill it. How are you going to get me back to Mr. Huber?”