Chapter 8

Gianna let out a disbelieving laugh. "And why exactly do you think it was me? Because she stole my sister's painting? "Shane, don't you forget that I'm the victim here. I'm the one she stole from, and now I'm the one you're accusing? I thought you actually had a brain." A muscle twitched in Shane's brow, the vein at his temple standing out as he took a deep breath to hold his temper down. He forced every bit of calm into his voice. "Don't get worked up." He held Gianna still. His scent, his warmth, his entire presence closed in on her fast, overwhelming her. The pressure of being pinned made her panic spike. She thrashed hard, instinctively fighting to get away. "Let go of me!" Shane only pulled her tighter, tighter than he ever had. He held her in place, his voice clipped and deliberate. "Gianna, all you need to do is go to the station and say the painting was a gift. That's it." The moment she heard that, Gianna trembled with rage. She snapped and bit down on his neck hard, ripping out a chunk of skin. Shane sucked in a sharp breath, pain shooting through him, the veins in his neck standing out. Yet he still didn't let her go. He was even more stubborn than she was. "Gianna, you're going." "And what if I'd rather die than go?" Her eyes were bloodshot as she glared at him. "What if I go kill myself right now?" A faint twitch pulled at Shane's brow. He fell silent for a long moment. Finally, he exhaled slowly and said, word by word, "Gianna, don't push me." "You wouldn't do it." Shane sighed, sounding disturbingly certain, almost pitying. "Gianna, you fought so hard to marry me. You wouldn't actually die, not over this. "So be good. Stop fighting me. Just go to the station. Okay?" Gianna froze. She jerked her head up, staring at him with disbelief. He knew. He knew exactly how much she loved him—how hard she had worked, how much she had sacrificed just to marry him. And he still used that love like a knife, turning it against her, cutting straight through her until she felt stripped open and bleeding. The sudden calm washed over Gianna like a switch being flipped. She closed her eyes and let out a soft laugh. "You're right. I wouldn't kill myself." But it wasn't for Shane. It was because I've already decided to leave you and start my life over. Shane exhaled in relief. "Good. Then let's go now…" His grip loosened as the tension drained from him. But the next second, Gianna drove her foot hard into him and finally tore free from his arms. She looked him dead in the eye and said each word clearly, "But I'm not going." Shane's face went pale. The pain almost took his balance, his whole body trembling. His anger snapped free. "Gianna, this time you've gone too far." He shut his eyes and took two long breaths, as if trying to force the rage back down. But this time, he couldn't. Shane's hands curled into tight fists, veins standing out on the backs of them, and he spoke through clenched teeth. "Put her in the confinement room." He turned sharply and strode toward the door without looking back. "When she's willing to cooperate, she can contact me."