"You took something from me," I say quietly. "Now I'm taking something from you."
"Hoist him up," I say to Dante who nods and pulls on a chain that's connected to a pulley system. In less than a second, Ronan is hoisted into the air by his wrists, his toes barely touching the floor.
What I do next has everyone in the room holding their breath. Because, I grab Ronan's pants and pull them down sothey're hanging at his ankles. He's exposed, his pathetic excuse for a dick hanging limply atop his balls. A box of medical gloves is on the table behind him and I grab a pair, snapping them on before I twirl the blade in my hand.
"You said I'd never forget what you did to me." I position the knife. "You were right. But you're going to die remembering what I did to you."
Before he can respond, I grab his dick and slice it off his body.
The scream that comes out of him is inhuman. Satisfying.
I drop the severed excuse for a cock onto the floor and wipe the blade on my pants.
"Dante, get him on the table. Face down."
"You got it, boss." There's approval in Dante's voice as he and another guard unchain Ronan and force him onto a metal table. They strap him down—arms, legs, torso. He's still screaming. Still bleeding.
I walk over calmly. Pick up the severed appendage. I spear it onto the knife and hold it in front of him so he can see. "Open his mouth."
One of the guards grabs Ronan's jaw and forces it open. I shove his dick inside as his eyes go wide.
"Choke on it," I tell him. Tears well in his eyes, whether from the pain or from the humiliation, I don't know. I pull the blade and the cock out of his mouth and then I position myself behind him. The knife feels right in my hand. Like it belongs there.
"You thought you'd get away with it," I say. My voice is detached. Clinical. "Thought you could hurt me and walk away laughing."
I place one foot against one of his exposed ass cheeks. And then I press the handle deep into him, lodging his own dick into his ass.
He lets out a scream and then I wrench the blade out quickly, leaving his asshole stuffed.
I walk over to his face now and grab him by the hair, placing the blade to his throat.
"But you were wrong. Because I'm the last thing you're ever going to see and the nightmare you'll never forget."
I draw the knife across his throat. Deep. Decisive.
Blood sprays across the table. Across my hands. Ronan gurgles and twitches.
I lean down close to his ear. "Die knowing that your dick was the last thing you tasted. Die knowing that your manhood is lodged in your own asshole. Die knowing that I'm the one who ended you. Die knowing that you didn't break me. That I. Broke. You."
His body spasms. Then goes still.
I step back and drop the knife onto the table, then turn to face Marco and Dante. Both men are staring at me with expressions I can't quite read. Shock, maybe. Or respect.
I pull off the bloody gloves and drop them onto Ronan's corpse.
"I've made my decision," I say. My voice doesn't shake. "Meet with Liam. Take the deal."
Then I walk out of the cell without looking back.
Behind me, I hear Marco murmur something to Dante. Footsteps follow me into the hallway.
"Elena." Marco catches up to me. "Are you?—"
"I'm okay." I look at my hands. They're not shaking. "I know I should probably feel something. Guilt or horror or... something. But all I feel is relief."
"You don't have to feel guilty for killing a monster."
"I don't feel guilty." I meet his eyes. "I feel like I got a piece of myself back."
