Scarlett (Second Edition) by Karima Saad Usman novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Scarlett’s POV

“I’m not a Vladislav,” I sobbed, my voice breaking with desperation. “I don’t even know who that is.” My words trembled out, each one wrapped in fear and panic; and I saw the man watching me frown, his doubt deepening

Please, I thought to myself. Believe me. Just believe me.

The man’s cold gaze fell on me, sharp and probing. “What are you then?” he demanded, his tone cutting like a blade. Desperation flooded through me, and I blurted the first lie that came to mind.

“Alpha Maxwell’s bed warmer,” I whispered, forcing my voice to sound as pitiful and unimportant as possible. I didn’t know if he’d believe me, but I had to try. He scowled, unimpressed, and shoved me to the ground. Pain shot through my knee as it scraped against the rough earth, but I bit back a cry, clinging- to the hope that he’d leave me alone.

Instead, he stormed back into the packhouse. Moments later, he reappeared, dragging the cook’s daughter with him. She was struggling, her face twisted in fear, and her mother–the cook herself–rushed after them, pleading desperately. “Please, take me instead! Please, she’s all I have!”

But he didn’t even look at her. His eyes were fixed on the girl, and anger twisted his features.

“You’ll pay for deceiving me,” he spat at the cook, and the cook looked up, her tear–streaked face full of betrayal and rage. She turned her furious gaze on me, her eyes blazing with hatred.

“Tell the truth, Scarlett!” she shouted, her voice raw and trembling. “Tell them who you are!” Her words sliced through the air, and I felt every eye turn

toward me, sharp and suspicious. Tears filled my eyes, and I let them fall freely, letting fear and innocence mask the lie.

“Why are you lying?” I asked her, my voice cracking as I tried to make her look like the one who had betrayed me. Her eyes widened in shock, and I felt a

strange sense of relief as confusion filled her expression.

No one here truly knew who I was–my father had made sure of that. All my life, he had kept me hidden, protected from the eyes of the world, and I finally understood why. For the first time, I was grateful for his secrecy. It was keeping me alive.

The cook, however, was not so easily deterred. She stormed over to me, her face contorted with rage, and kicked me, her boot striking my side with brutal force. I gasped, curling in on myself as pain flared through me. Before she could land another blow, one of the attackers stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. She staggered, falling to the ground, her hands clutching her cheek.

“Don’t damage our goods,” he warned her, and a new, icy fear flooded my veins. Goods. That’s what we were to them. Objects to be bought and sold, without a shred of humanity in their eyes. Where were my mates? Why hadn’t they come for me yet? My heart ached with the weight of my helplessness.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marvin unbuckle his belt, the leather glinting in the dim light as he pulled it free. He turned toward the cook’s daughter, Annie, his face twisted with malice. “No,” I thought, a sick feeling rising in my stomach as he raised the belt high.

The belt came down with a sickening snap, and Annie screamed. Her voice was filled with raw pain, her young body writhing as each blow left welts and cuts on her skin. The cook, her mother, wailed helplessly, her cries filling the air as Marvin showed no mercy.

“I hope you can live with yourself, Scarlett,” the cook spat through her tears. “Annie is just fifteen.”

But I couldn’t allow myself to care. Every instinct in me screamed to survive, to stay unnoticed, to lie low. My life mattered to me, too, and I had to hold onto whatever fragile chance I had left. The cook had tried to give me away; it was her fault that her daughter was being flogged. There was no way she

would make me feel guilty for the wickedness she tried to dish out..

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Chapter 52-

Mary beat Annie until blood seeped through her skin, her body marked with brutal slashes. When he was done, they chained her to me, our wrists bound

together in cold, unyielding metal. Around us, they rounded up others, young women they deemed valuable, one by one, chaining them like animals. By the time they finished, twenty–five of us were bound, our freedom taken, our futures stripped away.

“You are no longer free,” one of Masin’s colleagues declared, his voice devoid of any warmth, any sense of pity. His words were a heavy weight, sinking into

me, filling me with dread. I felt lost, trapped, but then, something tugged at my mind–a feeling, a bond, something pulling me toward my mate.

Lucian. My heart beat wildly as I reached out, tugging on the thin, invisible cord that connected us. I closed my eyes, concentrating, my mind stretching out

in desperate hope.

“Help,” I whispered, barely daring to believe he might hear me. Then, to my utter shock, I felt a response–a whisper in my mind, his voice.

“We are on our way, Scarlett. Hold on, please,” he said, and relief washed over me, like cool water soothing a burn. I held onto his voice, clinging to it like a

lifeline.

“Under attack,” I managed to send, my mind still fumbling with the link, not yet used to this strange, silent way of speaking. The connection flickered, and I felt his presence fade, but he had heard me. They were coming.

With my hope renewed, I braced myself, heart pounding, waiting for the moment my captors would finally face the fury they had brought upon themselves.

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Michele Gremillion

will they get there on time

7 days ago

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