Not even tonight.
“You’ll be fine.” I stare up at Jensen, and he swallows thickly. He knows this is goodbye; this is the end of the road for me, allowing new freedom for all. He ducks his head, the only acknowledgment he can give, then he turns and walks away.
My father slaps my shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “Fantastic!” He bounces in his chair with childlike glee, and a practiced smile creeps on my face as I lift my glass for the server to replenish my hand with another brandy.
The auction continues, and I glance at my watch. In six minutes, a signal blocker will hit the building, allowing the men stationed outside in the shadows the perfect opportunity to storm the auction and rescue the innocents while taking out the rest of the scum attached to this organization.
“Are you ready?” I ask, leaning forward in my chair, attempting to act like I have a buzz of excitement through my veins; although it’s not too difficult, I do.
He throws his head back in a deep laugh, a laugh I grew to hate because it was one of sinister intent. “Yes. Yes.” He slaps his leg hard. “You’re eager.”
“I have vengeance in my veins,” I state, standing.
“You need to control yourself. You’ll come in your pants like you did when you were a kid.” I grimace. A recollection that has plagued me for a lifetime. Coming to the sound of someone being fucked without realizing they’re being forced leaves a mark on you, a very tortured mark that has haunted me for my lifetime.
We head into the corridor, the same one Hevan pleaded with me to take her from. Her harrowing blue eyes gripped my heart so tightly it would take death to detach them from me.
I might not be able to right the wrongs of the past, but moving into the future, I can sure as fuck try.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Azrael
The door snaps shut, engaging the electronic lock and securing the soundproof walls.
“The whore is ready for us.” He tilts his head toward the woman on all fours, naked and facing away from us. She’s shackled to the wall by a chain around her neck and a bag over her head. Her blonde locks flow down her back, but my cock doesn’t twitch; nothing about this scene makes me excited.
Because I’m nothing like him.
“I’m going first this time!” he declares. The prick is so excited he hasn’t even realized he’s missing a vital clue that all is not right. In any normal circumstances, I would never allow him to go first. He knows this.
He’s already undoing his belt, and when he pulls it from his pants, I know what’s about to come next.
My training is second nature; every time I’ve attempted to stop an onslaught of whippings, I then received themmyself. You soon learn to stand back and watch, even when your heart is telling you otherwise.
So, while he launches the first lash through the air, I lean back on the wall and light a cigar.
It is, after all, a celebration.
“That’s it, whore!” he bellows. “You piece of shit.” He spits on her and hits her again. Harder and harder with each lash. She whines, cries, makes a gargled sound that appears to excite him, but not one of them is that of her pleasure.
He rips the bag off her head, then he steps up behind her. He yanks her head back by her hair while laughing neurotically. It’s completely deranged, the same sound that would terrify me as a small boy.
Then he stills, his body bristles, and the line on his forehead creases as he scans over her face. Her usual dark hair has been dyed a similar color to Hevan’s, but her eyes sure as hell haven’t been changed to match the blue I miss so much.
Her mouth is open; the strange sound that leaves her, it’s now clear why. Her tongue has been cut from her mouth for her actions, something I took great delight in doing.
Elizabeth clearly didn’t know when to speak and when to keep her mouth shut, so I took the organ from her to secure my plan.
He rears back. “What the fuck is this?” he spits out as his head snaps up to mine.
“This is revenge.” I grin.
The moment he registers my words, his face falls ghostly white, his jaw drops open, then just as quickly his chest rises in uncontrollable anger.
“The great and powerful Benito Carrera is angered by his son’s plan to overthrow him.” I mock with a sinisterlaugh. “Your empire is going to fall, Father. I’m going to destroy everything you’ve ever built,” I taunt.
“You fucking little bastard. I should have slaughtered you!” he spits out.
