As if you could ever be the shadow of Millicent.
I slap myself mentally at the reflexive thought.
Refastening my trousers, I then walk to the wall, returning with rope. She blinks up at me, confused, until I bind her wrist and ankles tight.
“What I need, baby,” I say coldly, “is the girl who gives me answers,”
Her expression changes instantly.
“Answers?”
“Who is the manipulator here? Are there multiple?”
I sit beside her on the bed. My eyes flash with brilliance and I push into her mind.
Who the fuck is this guy? Ariella is going to need to know about him. Immediately.
“Where is Ariella?”
Her jaw slackens. “You…you can read minds?”
Dread floods her features, all pretense gone. She tugs at the ropes. Too late.
“I can do many things in your mind,” I whisper. “Observe.”
I squeeze. Pressure bursts behind her eyes. She screams in agony, body arching off the bed. No one comes. This is a sin house; such things are common here.
I release her. She slumps into the bed, gasping for air.
“Where is Ariella?”
She says nothing, but her body shakes in fear.
Have it your way.
I squeeze again and this time I let all my frustration at calling Millicent’s name seep into the woman with her reminiscent eyes and hair. I watch with great satisfaction as she is pushed to the point of unconsciousness, only to return to me and repeat the cycle until I get what I want.
Chapter 35
Millicent
“I DON’T THINK THIS IS what Felix meant by subtle,” Iris says, trailing off as she takes in the art I’ve made of the man who touched me so boldly.
His body is still bound to the chair, but his tongue and dick are nailed to the wall. His arms rest neatly on the floor beside him. I was halfway through sawing off his leg when Iris arrived. Her interruption now has left the poor limb hanging on by a few ligaments.
“Did you plan this ahead of time? Where did you get a damn hammer? Or…is that a bone saw?” She tilts her head, studying the display with more curiosity than concern.
“No, funnily enough, it just happened to be in here; I felt inspired,” I lie smoothly.
Truth is, once I snapped the bastard’s neck, rage took over. He touched me. The fucking vermin touched me.I summoned Ollie, and he wasdelightedto bring us some supplies.
Now he stands proudly on the desk behind me, trying (and failing) to hide the hammer behind his back while he twirls one of the man’s fingers.
Iris glances between us. She knows I’m lying.
Oliver waves the man's finger at her, all smiles.
“He talked too much. And he ground that sad little shrimp against me.” I grimace at the memory.
