“You think you matter that much to him?” he sneers. “You’re just another fuck to men like that. Used and forgotten.”
I grit my teeth.
He takes a step back, circling.
“You always thought you were special,” he says. “But you’re not. You’re just a soft, useless mess. Can’t even keep your legs shut. Whoring around like your mother.”
My stomach twists. The words dig deep, not because I believe them, but because he knows exactly how to aim.
But not today.
Not anymore.
Still, I keep my voice steady. “If you’re so sure I’m nothing, why go through all this trouble to bring me back?”
He pauses.
“I don’t like when things I own run away.”
“I’m not yours,” I spit.
He punches me. Quick. Hard. My lip splits open, warm blood rushing down my chin. The metal chair groans beneath me from the force.
He grabs a rag and wipes his knuckles.
“Keep your mouth shut, or your sister’s next,” he says calmly, like he’s talking about the weather.
My chest caves.
Nadia.
She doesn’t know. She’s still in college. Still safe, hopefully.
I swallow down the blood. “If you touch her—”
“I will,” he interrupts, lighting another cigarette. “Unless you behave. I’ve already sent someone to watch her dorm. All it takes is one phone call.”
I shudder. The fear isn’t just in my bones now, it’s in every cell.
But I can’t let him see it.
I lift my chin, even as blood drips from it. “He’ll come for me. Viper. Mason. He’ll burn your whole damn world down.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” he mutters. “I have contacts. I know everything that is to know about those bikers. Why do you think you were alone in that cabin? I made it happen.”
For a second, ice cuts through my veins.
What if he hurt Mason?
What if he...
No. No, he didn’t. Because Mason is a storm in boots. The god of war in denim and leather. Fire wrapped in flesh. And he’s coming.
He has to be.
Richard turns his back and leaves the room, door slamming shut behind him.
I sit there, panting. Arms burning. Head pounding.
