When his arm circled my waist, hand traveling far too close to my crotch, I had an overwhelming urge to sever it.
“Baby, you’re a godsend. A fucking angel. You have no idea how much I need this.” His nose was in my hair, lips brushing behind my ear. “You smell good enough to eat. I bet that cunt of yours is just as delicious. I’m suddenly ravenous.”
That was one thing we had in common. I was nearly foaming at the mouth to watch him bleed.
A black Maybach pulled up, and I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him as the driver opened the door. We stumbled inside the vehicle, and he pulled me into his lap and nearly choked me with his tongue. It was all I could do not to gag.
“You are fucking gorgeous,” he said, palming my breasts as we pulled out of the venue parking lot. “Pierced?” His thumb flicked my piercing, and a stupid grin crossed his face. “Anywhere else?”
“You mean my pussy?”
He nodded, hands pushing up my dress and journeying up my thigh. “Celia, darling, you are…” Rupert’s brows suddenly dropped in confusion as he padded the weapon strapped to my thigh. “What is—a gun?”
“Surprise,” I purred into his ear.
We locked eyes for a split second as he scrambled to make sense of what it meant, who I was, and what my motives were. But it was a fraction of a second too slow. Hard steel to his throat before he could react.
“Fuck…fuck…okay, I’ll give you whatever you want. Please, don’t shoot me.”
“I knew you were a pussy,” I taunted, no longer using an accent. “But I’ll play because you do have something I want.”
“Money? I can transfer any amount right now. Name your price.”
I flashed him a coy smile, biting my lip and pretending to think it over. “How about 100 million pounds?”
His shoulders deflated. “Come on now, be reasonable.”
Pushing the barrel harder against his Adam’s apple, I whispered, “There is no amount that wouldevercover your debt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What fucking debt?”
“Cristos Adamos ring any bells, Rupert?”
A small gasp fled his lips, brows damn near hitting his hairline. “There it is. Guilty, huh? I’m his daughter, and while my friends were attending prom, I was slitting the throats of bullshit men like you. So I’m sure you can guess why I’m here.”
Rupert grew a set of balls when he shoved me off his lap with every ounce of force he could muster, gun flying out of my grasp and my ass hitting the car floor with a painful thud.
“Harold!” He screamed for his driver like the coward he was. “Harold, call for help! This bitch is trying to kill me.”
The car jerked to a stop on an empty street. Seconds later, the door flew open, the handle wrenched from Rupert’s grasp.
“Harold, she’s…What the fuck? You’re not Harold?” he said, backing away from the open door.
“Harold took the night off.” Silas’s eyes shifted to me as I pulled to my knees, rubbing my damn tailbone. “Did he hurt you?”
“He broke me.”
Silas and I shared a deep, penetrating gaze before he nodded once in understanding and climbed inside. Rupert tried to reach for the opposite door, but Silas plunged a knife deep into the top of his thigh. The man’s guttural scream resounded around us, pulling my mouth into a satisfied grin.
“That knife has severed your femoral artery. You will die here tonight, but we can make it fast and relatively painless…or slow and fun. Your choice—Rupert, was it?”
He nodded frantically, tears running down his face. “Y-yes. Please, I—”
“Shut up,” he said, clenching a hand around Rupert’s throat.
I bit down on my lip as I watched Silas in action. His big fucking hands squeezed tighter, and I was suddenly envious…and wet.
“My girl will ask you some questions, and you’ll answer. Is that understood?”
