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Then I closed my eyes and kissed him, knowing it was my only chance of finding out the truth.

I would know the truth.

Mano replied eagerly, his thick bulge pressed hard on my belly and when I pulled back his eyes were gleaming.

“Damn, I can’t wait to take you properly,” he groaned, and I forced my mouth to stay in my false smile, the fake brightness I didn’t feel.

“Let’s go. I’m really afraid we’ll lose our hot water.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have everything you could ever want down here—I’ll bring you pretty clothes and jewelry. And anything you need for the baby.”

All I want is to be free, I thought.

He followed me closely down each steep stair, his smoky breath hot on my throat.

I had never been in the basement, and the cold, stale darkness seemed to rise up around me.

“Turn on the light, Léonie. You might trip.”

“I won’t trip.”

Where was Hugo? Had he made it down to the basement? Or had I just walked down a set of stairs with a dangerous man who didn’t give a fuck that I was married to his brother?

The concrete floor was cold under my bare feet, and I took trusting steps into the darkness. One, then two, Mano following behind me with each one. I could hear his heavy breathing, practically feel his erection pressing at my back.

Hugo, please be ready

“There’s nothing wrong with the water heater, is there?” Mano chuckled. “You just wanted to get me down here, you little slut. Well, I have no objection to that. Why don’t you bend over that washing machine and drop your panties to the floor.”

I reached up and pulled the light. In for a penny. . .

“You’re right,” I said. “There isn’t anything wrong with the water heater.”

Mano blinked in the suddenly bright light, and Hugo hit him in the back of the knees with a shovel, a hard, sharp blow that sent him crashing to the ground.

Then Hugo whipped a rope around his brother’s throat and began to tighten it as Mano made a choked whistle.

Hugo’s arms were strong, powerful, and I stepped closer to where Mano was struggling with the rope, trying but failing to loosen Hugo’s hold. Time for the answers I was desperate to get.

“Idiot. I have no intention of being the whore you cast me as. I know you didn’t plan this yourself. I want you to tell me exactly what happened the day you entered my bedroom. And Mano? That connection you thought we had? It was imaginary. I don’t even remember you.”

Just as his eyes opened in shock⁠—

I heard the front door slam open, and a rough, dominating voice I knew very well called out my name.

“Léonie? Merde! Where the hell are you?”

CHAPTER 8

Léonie

What was my husband doing here?

“Go. Keep him away from the basement,” Hugo said. “Be careful, though.”

“All right. I’ll try.”

Crouching as low as I could with my belly, I crept to the stairs, expecting at every second Étienne would open the door to the basement and find us.