Page 128 of Broken Crown

I'd destroyed his immaculate appearance—suit torn, face a mess of blood and already swelling bruises, one eye nearly shut.

Still, he managed to straighten his posture, wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand.

"You're going to pay for this," he wheezed.

I struggled against the restraining hands on me as I raged, lunging forward only to be hauled back. "Get out! If I ever set eyes on you again, I swear to fucking God I'll kill you."

CHAPTER 35

SABRINA

Sebastian's guards thundered past, their heavy boots reverberating through the marble hallway, each footfall sending vibrations through the soles of my feet.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and pressed my trembling hand against my racing heart, the violent thudding threatening to give me away. Sweat beaded at my hairline, trickling down my temple and along my jawline, leaving a cool trail against my flushed skin.

Holy shit, that was close.

Too fucking close.

I slipped out from behind the ancient tapestry where I'd hidden, the musty scent of centuries-old wool clinging to my hair. Dust particles danced in the dim light, coating my lungs.

The intricate threads depicting some bloody Roman battle scene mocked my own pathetic escape attempt, the woven warriors forever frozen in their violent glory while I cowered in their shadow.

I peeked around the corner.

Their weapons drawn, the guards sprinted toward the ballroom, where chaos erupted—shouts echoing off vaulted ceilings and the violent crash of shattering crystal.

Above the cacophony, Sebastian roared, "I swear to fucking God I'll kill you."

He shouted the threat with the certainty of a man who had killed previously and would again, without hesitation.

The raw power in his threat sent an involuntary thrill through my body, a primal response to his dominance that disgusted and excited me simultaneously.

Mark.

Oh my God.

Mark must have entered the palazzo instead of waiting for me outside as planned.

Panic flooded my system.

What the hell do I do now?

My phone vibrated against my thigh, startling me out of my panic.

The bright screen illuminated the darkened hallway, washing the ancient, frescoed walls in ghostly blue light. I retreated behind the tapestry, the rough wool scraping my skin as I cupped my hand over the phone to read the text.

Mark: Outside.

It wasn't Mark that Sebastian had threatened to kill.

Another shout and the scrape of boots against the marble sounded.

“Don’t you fucking threaten me. You’re finished, son. Do you understand me? Finished!”

Holy shit.

Had Sebastian just threatened to kill his own father?