4

DAMIAN

My footsteps echo off the black granite floor polished to a high shine. The cream-colored Venetian plaster walls provide a subtle contrast, while the dark wood trim adds depth and warmth - a far cry from the state of my heart which has now gotten colder than the ice in Antarctica.

I continue through the foyer, my footsteps quiet and in sync with the beat of my heart, descending to the basement where the latest captive is being held.

I feel like I'm at a crossroads. Waiting. The outcome of the next few hours will determine my final decisions; if I return to my duties or if I continue to hunt.

One thing is for sure; I will never rest until I feel peace within me. Else, I don't mind reducing this world to ashes for her. I would go on and on until my feet give out beneath me and my bones find their way out of my skin in exhaustion.

I stop right outside the door where sounds of muffled screams meet my ears. I turn my head this way and that to get rid of the kinks in my shoulders before I place my hands on the heavy doors and shove hard.

I step into the room and immediately, my eyes lock onto the captive woman. Her brunette hair is dishevelled, framing her heart-shaped face.

Her slender nose and mouth shaped like a bow tremble with rage. An angry-looking, purple bruise mars the left side of her cheek. Her clothes are ruffled with the first few buttons missing, exposing a hint of delicate blue lace.

She must have given my men a tough time. Such a vicious lady. The type I love to see come apart under my torture.

Green eyes blaze with defiance as her gaze meets mine. My chest burns hot with impatience to douse the fire in there and crush her spirit.

The same way Stellëza was ruined. Images of how someone with so much vibrance coiled into her shell until she became a shadow chooses now haunt my soul.

I push the image to the back of my mind.

“Remove the tape,” I order to the man standing to her right. He complies, ripping off the duct tape ignoring her pained groan.

The moment she spits out the gag, her eyes flash with a murderous rage. She struggles against the cuffs keeping her hands bound behind her.

She gives up with an exasperated scream. “Let me go, you demented psycho!” She yells followed by a slew of sailor curses and a series of threats tumbling out which end with, “Wait until Theodore gets a hold of you! My family will destroy you!”

The corner of my lips curl upwards in a smug smirk. I'm amused by how someone so small holds such a volcanic explosion within.

“The game hasn't even begun. Your husband would feel your pain in hell by the time we're done playing.”

Hands deep in my pocket, I stroll toward her with the deliberate pace of a predator. Her anger rolls off her in massive waves but I remain calm.

“Do you know Nicolo?” My voice is even as I ask.

She aims her gaze anywhere else that isn't my face and I know right then that she's avoiding the question.

“I do not owe you anything until you release me.”

Daring little thing, I muse as I grasp her chin with my fingers wrapping firmly around it. She struggles against my grip, but her efforts are feeble against it. I drag her face towards mine even though that doesn't deter her from looking somewhere else.

“Where is Kyle then?” I repeat, my voice dropping to a chilling quiet.

Pain slashes across her features as her eyes meet mine. They're burning with rigid stubbornness and more anger. “You're wasting your time.”

“Perhaps,” I chuckle darkly. “But I have plenty to spare.”

She glares so hard that I can see through her eyes how badly she wants to mark my face with daggers.

“You're just a coward hiding behind your goons. Shameless, cowardly piece of trash!” She fires. Her entire body vibrates from the weight of anger coursing through her.

I close my eyes when her spittle lands on my cheek. I give her a smile to show how unfazed I am. “And you're just a pawn, trying to protect a monster.”

Her eyes flash and she pushes on her feet in a pathetic attempt at freeing herself from the chair. Once again, she is unsuccessful.

“Kyle is not a monster, you are! He's ten times the human than you will ever be.” She retorts.

That statement sparks a round of laughter between my men and I. My shoulders shake in amusement.

Like I promised, I have all day.

“Darlin’, I never said I was human, did I?” Her expression cracks for a brief moment when she tries to decipher my words.

She recovers quickly with fresh venom in her words. “Take me back from where you picked me right this instant!”

I take a step closer and lower my head so that our faces are within inches of each other.

“Last chance,” I warn, “Where is your husband, Kyle?”

She gives a lopsided grin. Suddenly, she spits into my eyes. Momentarily, I am blinded by her actions.

It all happens so fast. Just as I open my eyes, a fierce cry leaves her lips. She rears her head back and slams it forward with her forehead crashing into mine. The impact jars my skull.

Bone crunches and pain explodes around my head. Her headbutt is vicious. I can tell it was aimed at breaking my nose.

“Fuck!” I grind out, shaking my head to clear my vision and ease the pain. My fingers fly to my nose to check for crimson flowing.

Nothing.

I glare at her, inches away from wrapping my fingers around her thin neck and wringing it till it snaps.

One of my men lands a punch on her cheek before I give out orders. She yelps out in pain and before I know it, I put a bullet in his head.

He drops dead.

She looks up at me with a sprinkling of blood on the side of her face. I catch the movement of her tongue as it pokes the inside of her mouth, pressing against the injury.

Then, like the roles have been reversed she curls her lips up in a devilish grin while my initial smile is turned upside down.

But that's a facade. The sight of fear is unmistakable as she looks at me.

My vision blurs again yet I go close to her and force a hold on her chin, refusing to be gentle and give her the delusion that I am relinquishing control.

This is my zone.

I see the bruise beginning to form on her forehead even as she smirks at me.

“You're… quite… fierce.” I manage in a strained voice.

She struggles with a firm kick on my shin. My hold tightens so hard that she winces. “Don't bother,” I advise. “You're never getting out of here.”

Her chest heaves. Her breasts rise and fall. That stubborn resoluteness remains on that face. “And you can never break me, I promise you! I will never tell you anything!”

“In that case,” I pull away from her as I straighten my spine. “Let's see what my men have to say about that. I'll know if you'll remain tight-lipped after my men take their turns easing themselves.”

Panic rises in those defiant green eyes but it's too late. She had her chance and she blew it.

“Ti çmend i shqerrë!” She curses in Albanian.

I walk out of the room with a wicked smile on my bruised face. Call me a crazy motherfucker all you want, I'll get back my pound of flesh.