Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“Aaaand…” He dragged out the word.
“What else do you want her to say?” I barked.
He gave me a sharp look. “I merely want—”
“I won’t disrupt the balance again, Sir V.” With balled hands, Ily dropped to her knees as elegantly as a falling feather. “I won’t turn Peter against you. I belong to Master H and exist by your magnanimity.”
“Magnanimity, huh?” He smiled with an evil glint. “That’s a big word for a little jewel.”
Bowing her head, she committed to her role in ways that churned my guts. “I’m yours, Sir V.”
He sniffed. “Quite right.” Stepping into her, he rested his hand on her head.
She couldn’t stop a tortured moan escaping.
To let him touch her after what he did to her?
Jesus Christ.
It took all my fucking strength not to kill him.
Images of him thrusting into her from behind.
Foggy memories of him grabbing her hips and—
“I’m enjoying your obedience, my sweetling, but I do have to wonder if it’s because Henri has shackled your mind like he did when you thought he was a cop.” He grabbed her chin and yanked her face up. “What else has he been whispering to you, hmm? What other promises has he vowed?”
She blinked with blank eyes. “It wasn’t him, Sir V. It was…I saw the cave where…” Closing her lashes, she sighed. “I know what will happen if I don’t obey.”
He chuckled and let her go. Wiping his hand on his trousers, he smirked. “I knew Peter would lead my jewels there. I suppose he told you what extra activities I have him do for me, too?”
Extra activities?
What?
Crowding closer, I did my best not to rip Ily into my arms. “As you can see, Vic, she’s learned. Shall we—”
“No, Sir V,” Ily said quietly. “T-The altar spoke for itself.”
Altar?
The cave with the carved seats and a stone table shot back into memory.
The whole energy in that place had been sick.
Victor laughed and clapped his hands. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Perhaps I should invite all of you down for the next Diamond Kiss. If it instils this level of compliance, it might save me a lot of headaches. I do have eight new jewels to train. Perhaps a quick field trip to the Temple of Facets could fast-forward their education considerably.”
Diamond Kiss…shit.
Ily froze.
I turned into stone.
That damn fucking chit.
The back of my neck grew hot as Victor pinned his blue eyes on me. “You don’t happen to know who won that gift in the treasure hunt, do you? No one has come forward and it’s usually the first prize to be cashed in.”
Sweat rolled down my back.
If only Ily hadn’t found it in the wardrobe. If only I hadn’t asked what it meant. If only I’d found it first and torn it quietly into shreds.
No one would know what I’d flushed.
No footage would exist of me winning it.
“I’m sorry.” I shrugged. “No idea.”
“No matter. It’ll turn up eventually. And if it doesn’t, I’ll have my guards go through the recordings to see if it was lost or misplaced. I like to skim the footage to keep abreast of what my guests are doing, but I don’t have the time to watch every little moment—especially now that you’re not nearly as entertaining with your mystery and secrets.”
I laughed around the boulder in my throat. “Sorry I’m not giving you viewing pleasure anymore.”
“Me too. It was fun playing detective and figuring out who you are.”
“Who I am is grateful.” I lowered my chin, playing right into his hand. “I don’t know who I’d be without you guiding me, Vic.”
His eyes softened. He looked genuinely pleased. “And you’re so welcome, my friend. Right.” He clapped his hands. “Enough standing around talking. Let’s have some fun.” Marching into the centre of the pit, he clicked his fingers. “Come here if you please.”
Drained beyond belief and we hadn’t even started yet, I left Ily kneeling by the doorway and joined him.
My damn legs trembled. The bag holding my new whip dangled in my fingers.
I stopped beside him. The room ringed out like a perfect clock. Beneath my feet, a drain with rusty grates allowed an icy breeze to escape, hinting it wasn’t dirt beneath our feet but another room, another torture chamber. At each time marks where clock hands would go, certain apparatus existed.
At twelve o’clock, a giant cross waited for its next martyr.
Two o’clock, a strange looking chair with no bottom and a sling.
Five o’clock, a rack full of whips and paddles.
Seven o’clock, a device covered in cuffs and chains to trap the limbs of its victim.
Nine o’clock, a table, stained and pockmarked with unmentionable things.
Eleven o’clock, a bed with black silk sheets and four posts with hooks for collars and cuffs.
The rest of the room blurred as I spun a full circle and caught eyes with Ily still kneeling by the closed door.