Trapped by Lies (Truth or Lies 3)

Archard r

eturns silently, my eyes are still closed, but I can feel him near me. Because he brings Enzo’s pain. I feel it as clearly as I feel my own heartbeat.

Enzo is in pain. The kind that will stay with him for the rest of his life.

Fuck.

“Is there any way to stop this? Can I just withdraw?” I ask, my eyes still closed.

“You can withdraw, but Enzo would still have to complete the rest of the games himself in order to keep the empire. Once the games have started, there is no stopping it,” Archard says.

Fuck Enzo’s father. Fuck my own father. Fuck generations of our families before us, wanting us to play this twisted, vicious game all so the strongest would rule the empire. Fuck it all.

“Are you ready, Miss Miller?” Archard asks.

I laugh. Such a ridiculous question. I’m not ready—never.

I open my eyes until I’m sure the blue in my irises has turned to red. That’s all the answer Archard is going to get. But it seems to be enough.

He starts walking.

I follow, the fear gone, replaced by rage. Enzo is hurting, and there is nothing I can do except end this game as quickly as fucking possible. But if I win, then that puts me up two to nothing. I don’t want the empire. I can’t handle ruling. Enzo deserves it all.

It’s a no-win situation.

I push those thoughts out of my head for now. I don’t even know what the game is yet; I need to focus on that first.

Archard goes to one of the cabins I’ve never been in before. I know this is where most of the crew sleeps, in cabins near here.

He opens the door silently and holds it open for me to step inside.

Zeke.

He’s standing inside looking as clueless as to why he’s standing there as I am entering the room.

He’s wearing the usual uniform of jeans, boots, and a dark T-shirt. His hands are in his pockets, making the muscles in his arms bulge. The man is huge. Like Jason Momoa huge. And Zeke has the long locks to match tied up in a man bun.

Is Zeke here to help me complete this game?

That should comfort me. Instead, the butterflies in my stomach return in the form of wasps, stinging, and raging in my belly.

“This game is simple and is all about testing the belief that you are able to put the Black empire first, above everything that you hold dear,” Archard starts.

Zeke looks at me with a nervous expression. We both know where this is going.

“If you were to become Black, you need the ability to extract important information out of any man you capture. No matter if they are your enemy or friend.”

Please, no.

“Zeke has a past, a secret he has never told anyone, even you, Miss Miller.”

No, no, no.

“Your job is to extract this secret via any means possible,” Archard continues.

FUCK!

“You can use any tools or weapons you deem necessary to extract this information.” Archard points to a table in the corner with various weapons.