Too fucking bad for him we’ve already decided.
“You can’t call him an idiot,” Rowan jokes.
August steps forward, knife’s tip pointed against his temple. “See, I disagree. One could argue it’s quite stupid to shoot Shay and even more idiotic to work with Filiae Bellonae.”
“I think he’s got you there, Rowan,” Liam quips.
Rowan dips his chin, “You’re right. He’s a fucking dumbass.”
“Now that we all agree that you’re an idiot, Antonio. I will spare us all the unnecessary deflection and whining and tell you what we like.”
I point to Rowan and begin. “He likes to degrade-expect to be called all types of names.”
Flicking my wrist toward August, “He likes to stalk his prey, observe them and their habits.”
“Please,” Antonio cries.
“Shut the fuck up. Your time to talk will come soon,” I spit before turning to Liam. “He likes ropes and psychological mind fucks.” I shift my gaze back to Antonio. “It’s why you’re bound to this post so securely.”
“See, a flare for the dramatic,” Rowan chuckles.
I take two steps forward until I’m standing before our special guest. “And me,” I hold the tip of Karl’s knife against his naked chest and drag a curved line along his breastbone. “I like control in all forms-to be the master of fates, if you will,” I boast, savoring in the knowledge Karl got the first strike.
Antonio bellows, and I wish I could bottle it up and save it for my friend. “Elise wasn’t the one in charge.”
“Tell us something we don’t know,” August snaps.
“You’re about two weeks too late with that information,” I tsk. “That’s why we’re here playing this game.” I slice across his collarbone. “Lingchi is like an all-you-can-eat buffet-we all get something we want.”
I step to the side, and round, and after round, we take turns slicing into Antonio. Each time he reveals useless information.
“We already fucking know about those names. We have a list so long you’ll never give us anything to end this,” August yells in his face, dragging the blade down Antonio’s cheek.
I’m beginning to feel the same as I stride forward to slice along his ribs when his next words stop me, causing me to drop my knife where I stand.
“No fucking way!”
KARL
“I told you I’d be back before you know it,” I say to Emma, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her in before kissing her pillow-soft lips.
She moans, melting into my touch, and I drop my other hand to squeeze her ass.
“Will you two cut it out and make room for me,” August teases, pushing me out of the way. He kisses her and then lifts his gaze to mine.”Where the fuck are you?” He shouts, and I’m confused.
“What are you talking about? I’m standing right here, man,” I reply, but it’s like he’s looking right through me. “Wy,” I shout, but he just keeps calling my name, never once responding to my cries.
“Get the fuck up!”
I jolt awake at the feel of icy water being tossed in my face.
Fuck. Reality comes crashing in-my head is killing me, and my body feels like it’s been beaten to shit. I’m still wherever the hell they’re keeping me.
“Nice of you to join us, asshole,” Brian mocks.
“I’m not even going to waste one of my girls on you-I’m going to gouge your eyes out with my bare hands before I punch a hole through your larynx,” I seethe.
Brian’s eyes bulge, momentarily shocked, before smoothing into a sneer. “You don’t scare me, Jefferson. You’re about to be our bitch- all of the heirs are.”
I open my mouth to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about when the door opens behind me.
“Is the chip installed yet?” a vaguely familiar voice says.
I’ve heard it somewhere, but my focus isn’t the best. I know I’ve been here for at least a couple of weeks. I’ve been counting the one meal I get daily, but it hasn’t been enough to sustain me between the frequent beatings.
After I gave Grady the real Bobbit treatment, they used me as a human punching bag. I groan with each breath. I know I have broken and bruised ribs, the cuts on my back haven’t been cleaned except for the three times I was able to shower, and an almost lost molar.
“Not yet. We’re waiting on Scott to insert it,” Brian answers.
“I don’t know what you’re waiting for, Mr. Porter.”
My eyes spring open at the recognition of who’s in the room. “Mr. Jameson?”
“Ahh, you’ve finally figured it out,” Mr. Jameson exclaims, stepping around to stand in front of me.
“You’re a leader in the Fraternitas. What is it with you fucks that make you turn so easily?” I probe, genuinely hoping he answers.
The door creaks again, but I can’t turn my head to see who’s walked in.
Jameson pats my cheek. “That’s a story for another time,” he responds, then turns, “Scott, Mr. Jefferson is ready for you. Let’s make this quick. It’s time for the boy to go home.”
I never see who Scott is because there’s a pinch to the back of my neck, and then my eyes close.
I’m unsure how long I’m out, but I wake to mumbled arguing.
“I told you he needed to be in good condition to go home. So what the fuck is this?” a feminine voice snaps.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.