Damn her if she thinks I’ll let her get off that fucking easily. When I return to the bedroom, she’s lying limp in the center of the mattress. She doesn’t react when I grab her by the ankle and drag her closer. With one knee propped against the end of the bed, I lean over and drag the rag between her legs. She’s bleeding, but it’s just a streak across the end of the rag. My seed drips from her more steadily than anything else.
The more of her I touch with the rag, the more of her that creeps back into those eyes, which watch me warily. She doesn’t like being cleaned. She doesn’t like when the monster of the story wipes his mess from her skin. She likes it even less when that same beast goes to grab a bottle of vodka from the kitchen and carefully pours it onto the brand he made on her skin.
She tries to fight me off then. “No...no.”
I fight back, pinning her down by her arm until she whines. My name will leave a nasty scar. She’ll never be able to erase it. And him... He’d have to cut her fucking shoulder out to override my claim. The little bitch is mine, for however long I say so.
Vincent Stacatto can go fuck himself; he won’teverfuck her.
“Look at me.”
She does, still trying to bat my hand away. I set the vodka aside without even drinking from it, which would be the smart thing to do—erase the lust that flares up when she looks up at me with fire in her eyes. Danny...the little bitch who sold her soul to a man who never really had one of his own. Does the thought of that frighten her?Somethinghas her spooked, because she tries to stare beyond me. She tries to fly off, but the moment I seal my mouth over hers, she’s trapped. She’s still fighting though, even as she slams her tongue against mine. The cloth in my hand is a whip, and she flinches with every inch of her I claim with it, bathing the blood from her skin. She’s a rebellious little bitch—she fights me harder than I know she ever did against him, but it’s no use.
With a groan, she surrenders, her hands fisting in my hair and her hip arching into my touch.
For the next five minutes, she’ll forget about him and die in another way—with every kiss I take and the climax I’ll wring out of her with my fingers. For the next five minutes, she’s mine alone. I’ll make sure of that.
I’ll crush the bastard from her skull if I have to.
Mack’s waitingby the mouth of the Kennel for me when I finally leave the garage just after sunset with the taste of blood in my mouth and cunt on my tongue. Three of his men surround him, keeping just enough distance to show that Mack isn’t afraid to face me alone—he just wants to reinforce just how much power he has here. All hail the fuckingking.
“Enjoying the guest house?” he wonders, cocking an eyebrow once I come within a yard of him. “You must have broken in the bed, at least. I can smell her on you.”
I say nothing, giving him no ounce of emotion to bite into. Isimply stare the bastard down until he remembers the business at hand.
“Tonight,” he grunts out, crossing his arms over his chest. “We do this quickly. Do you have the addresses?”
I jerk my head toward the garage. “She has them.”
Mack chuckles. “Well, then it’s a good thing that I’ve made suresheattends this little party...”
Something in his tone makes me glance over my shoulder just in time to catch a man leaving the garage with a slender woman in tow.
Red.It paints everything beneath a roar so deafening that my ears pop. Even knowing that Mack is watching can’t stop me from taking a step toward them. My fingers are on fire in a way I have never felt, not even in the cage.
The fucker doesn’t dare touch her, at least. He makes her walk in front of him instead, her head held high, her chin pointed to the sky, those haughty eyes on fire. However, there’s a noticeable limp she can’t hide. Her ravaged cunt aches with my possession—she won’t feel right again for a week, at least.
“Relax, Dante,” Mack croons behind me. “I made sure that she’s in safe hands.”
It’s only now that the hair of the man herding her forward catches a flicker of light—copper.
“I’ll have her stay with Arno during our little adventure,” Mack clarifies. “Safe and sound.”
Arno watches me as they come closer. He makes sure to keep enough distance from her, and he doesn’t reach for her, even when she staggers over the uneven ground. He stares me dead in the eye the entire fucking time.
“Now,” Mack starts, and I drag my gaze back to him. “Give me the addresses and we can get this little party started.”
“No.” I clip the word so it’s clear enough for the bastard to understand. “I handle the girls on my own with Arno’s boys. You take the drug ring.”
Mack chuckles, shaking his head. “Now that wouldn’t be very fun, now would it, Dante?” His expression hardens, and I know without a doubt that he’s already formulated his own plan. “We split up. You take half of Arno’s men, half of mine, and I’ll do the same. You hit the enclaves first. When and onlywhenyou give me the signal that you’re all clear, I’ll move on the drug ring—but you play this your way, Dante. You bust open the enclaves without backup, and you get out of there on your own. Any losses you take are on your fucking head, understood?”
I force myself to nod once. The rules were simple: no holds barred, no easy outs—the same ones we played by whenever we fought in the cage. “I got it.”
“What about me?” Arno pipes up, his voice gruff.
Mack shrugs. “You and the girl will stay out of sight. I’ll tag a few of my men along, of course...but we can’t have her falling into the wrong hands. Yet.”
I don’t like it. I don’t like Mack’s cocky fucking smirk or the way he glances from me to the girl, putting the pieces together with the awkward way she’s standing and the blood on my shirt.
