Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“I’m not—” I coughed and cleared my throat from fiery whiskey. “I’m not going to kill her. Why the fuck would I kill something I want to play with?”
“Oh, don’t worry, you won’t kill her. I won’t let you. She’s still eighty percent mine and hasn’t nearly paid off her investment. She’ll merely help unlock your soul, Henri. She will survive. You have my word. My guards will stop you if you go too far.” Raising his voice, he said, “Peter dear. Please tell my new friend how it feels to endure this game.”
Straightening his spine, ignoring the fresh blood oozing from his cuts, Peter tipped up his chin with idiotic boldness. “Sir V, I have a request. Ily’s new. She’s had a long day. L-Let me take her place—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish.
His voice cut off, and he jerked to the floor, convulsing in familiar electrocution throes.
“Why, you insolent little twerp,” Victor hissed, stabbing his thumb onto the button. Looking as horrified as if he was a dinner host and his dog just pissed on the rug, he threw me a grimace. “I’m so sorry, Ward. He’s usually much better behaved.”
I couldn’t answer as Ily clamped both hands over her mouth as she watched Peter thrash and moan. She didn’t try to touch him, but she did shatter into pieces the longer he was punished.
I bit my tongue as Victor kept frying his slave.
Ten seconds, fifteen seconds.
Every instinct bellowed to murder this sociopath with my bare hands, but then I’d be shot, and the guards would throw Ily and Peter back into whatever cells they slept in.
Another bastard would rise to claim Victor’s place, and I’d save no one.
My corpse would rot here.
Q would never find them.
And everything I’d done this far would be for nothing.
By twenty seconds, Victor finally sighed and lifted his thumb.
Peter groaned and flopped into a heap. His limbs continued twitching morbidly.
Ily reached for him and yelped, receiving a shock. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked and rocked as if her mind had already cracked.
Fuck, I’m sorry.
So fucking sorry that I’d brought her here.
I wished I could rewind time and never set eyes on her in the club. Never notice her. Want her. Steal her.
Christ, this is all my fault.
“Shall we try that again?” Victor raised an eyebrow. “If you will, Peter. Please tell Henri what it feels like to be on the receiving end.”
Gasping, shaking, barely alive, Peter pushed himself onto his knees. He almost toppled forward as his voice hitched and wobbled. “I-I’ve played this game multiple times, Master H, and I-I’m still breathing.”
Could’ve fooled me.
For all my jealousy where he was concerned, I felt an awful obligation to reap revenge for what Victor had done to him. If I survived tonight, I’d find a way for Peter to repay all the shocks Victor had dished out.
Somehow.
Victor raised his hand, his finger poised threateningly on the remote. “And…”
“And…it’s our pleasure to serve.” Peter bowed his head. “We live to serve.” He pressed his forehead to the bloodstained carpet. “We only exist to serve.”
“Good boy.” Tossing the remote back into his pocket, Victor turned his nasty attention on me. “Now drink, Henri.”
A snick sounded behind me as a gun’s safety flicked off.
Looking over my shoulder, I caught the blank stare of a guard. The muzzle of his gun mere inches from my skull.
My heart thundered.
My gut churned.
I looked at Ily breaking apart on the floor, then glanced at the alcohol in my hand.
If I hurt her sober, I would do it as part of our act. I would cut her as gently as I could. I would do what needed to be done with as much kindness as possible.
I rolled my eyes.
What an oxymoron.
Tender torture?
Fuck.
There was no such thing.
I was kidding myself.
All of this was a waste of fucking time.
I tried.
Christ, I tried.
If I hurt her when drunk…
If I played this game under the influence of hard liquor…if she so much as looked at me wrong or whimpered a fighting word…merde.
I would hurt her as the man I’d tried to hide from.
The monster I couldn’t contain.
The beast I couldn’t tame.
If I hit her drunk, the cage I existed in would spring open, and I’d become a fucking animal.
An animal far worse than any on the walls.
An animal my brother would happily slaughter.
“Choose, Henri,” Victor said ever so softly. “Only you get to choose who bleeds tonight. Her…or you.”
Her eyes met mine.
Sunshine blazed exquisitely bright, burning, burning, burning.
I’d chosen her at the club.
I’d picked her.
Condemned her.
She was the key to getting inside so I could save the other jewels.
Slaves I’d seen being buggered, beaten, and abused.
Slaves who had no one.
A boulder sank into my gut.
Ily never looked away from me.
She completely destroyed me with a single silent nod.
Permission to hurt her.
Permission to cut her, bleed her, play this disgusting game with her.