“Kill you?” I asked him, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. “Now would I do that?” I rose from my chair and walked toward him. “Why would I save you from your misery when I can watch you suffer?”
I halted before him, my face mirroring his as we both stood at six-foot-three. I could feel his breath against my skin and vice versa. The longer I held his gaze, the angrier I became.
“You killed my uncle, Mercer,” I said, my voice dripping with hatred. “You tricked the whole family into thinking you were one of us when, in fact, your mission was to end Uncle Akim’s life.”
A hint of regret flashed across his face, but he kept his head up, refusing to look away from me.
“He took you as his own son.” My fingers curled into a fist at my side, my blood boiling with rage. “And you fuckin’ killed him, you cold-hearted son of a bitch.”
“Uncle Akim….”
“Don’t you fuckin’ say his name!” I snapped, yelling in his face.
My shoulders rose and fell with ragged breaths, my eyes blazing with fury as I glared at him.
He maintained his composure, watching me seethe in silence. “If you must kill, make it clean. If you must betray, make it worth it,” he said.
His words triggered memories I’d long buried, and it only infuriated me.
“Uncle Akim taught me that,” he added, his voice soft and confident. “You’re so blinded by your rage that you don’t see how much your family shaped me into the man I became—the man you hate so much.”
“You were already a cold-blooded killer when you came into our lives,” I replied with the same quiet tone. I took a step back, picked up the glass from the table’s surface, and took another sip. “Tell me, Mercer, how did you feel after you killed him?”
There it was again—that glimpse of guilt and regret.
“Do what you must,” he said, then drew a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
“Hmm.” I lowered the glass from my lips. “See, that’s the problem, Mercer—you’re ready to die. Killing you right nowwould be granting you mercy.” My expression darkened. “And as you know, I’m not merciful.”
His eyes squinted as if he were wondering what I was up to.
“There’s a million ways I can make you suffer,” I said, picking up a remote control from my table. “But let me show you my personal favorite.”
At the push of a button, the live footage of his daughter in my dungeon was displayed on the TV screen.
“Scarlett…no…” he murmured under his breath.
So that was her name. Scarlett.
I watched the light drain from his eyes as he stared at the clip with trembling lips. His expression softened, and for the first time, I saw fear in his fear—raw, undiluted fear.
Good. Very good.
She lay on her side on the floor, her legs pulled up to her chest as the darkness of the cell swallowed her whole. She was shaking like a leaf, too weak to make any more sounds.
Mercer dropped to his knees before me and shook his head, his voice weak and shallow. “Please, take me instead. Let her go,” he begged, his eyes misted as well.
“Looks to me like she’s comfortable where she is,” I said, sipping from my glass. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Mercer shook his head again, his face twisted like a man whose heart was breaking into pieces.
“Not so arrogant now, are you?” I cast a pathetic look at him.
He clutched at my feet and raised his head. “You don’t understand, Roman. You’re killing her.”
At first, I wanted to dismiss his words until he explained further.
“She panics in the dark. Plus, she’s claustrophobic! She’s dying in there!” he added, weeping. “Please, that’s my baby girl; she has nothing to do with this.”
