“The accounts are frozen, and your partners are running.”

“Because of Ricci,” Marcus said, his teeth bared in a tight, ugly grin.

“The great protector.”

“The man who saved you from me.”

“He did protect me,” I said, my voice rising slightly. “He showed me what you really are.”

Marcus leaned in closer, his hot breath hitting my ear, smelling of alcohol and decay.

“You stupid girl,” he whispered.

“You think he did this out of the goodness of his heart?”

“You think he cares about you?”

“He wanted you because you were mine,” Marcus sneered, his fingers digging deeper into my flesh.

“He wanted to take the last thing I had.”

I tried to push him back, my free hand flat against his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart.

He pinned me against the cold stone of the column, his weight crushing me.

“Who do you think built my family’s development firm, Arya?” Marcus asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

“Who do you think paid for my first congressional campaign ten years ago?”

I stared at him, the noise of the gallery fading into a dull roar.