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Chapter Forty three: Broken Victor

An hour later, Lyra was in the tent, bathed, comfortable and wearing clean clothes. And more determined than ever to escape.

Okay, so her phone didn’t work and her impulsive escape attempt had been laughable. But she couldn’t stay here. Whatever Viktor thought, she couldn’t just be patient. She had no intention of abandoning Illyra for weeks in her ex-boyfriend’s clutches and trusting all would be well.

Why had Viktor even insisted on keeping her here? There was no reason he couldn’t have her sign some kind of letter of intent or something, promising to give him the property. Something just didn’t add up. She felt as if she’d become almost as much a prisoner as Illyra was.

Two prisoners for two brothers, she thought grimly. Could their lives get any worse?

And yet...

Lyra brushed her long brown hair until it tumbled softly over her shoulders. Somehow, he’d also made her feel free. As if she, of all people, could be daring enough to travel around the world, learn to drive on a Lambor
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