Inside the closed space, my laughter reverberates and fills the air. I slice across the face of the man who spoke, feeling the warmth of his blood against my skin. “I may be a bastard, but I’m the rightful heir to the throne I sit on.”
The sound of his screams fills my black soul with sadistic delight as his flesh slowly separates from his jawbone. The sightof his blood, crimson and vibrant, ignites a fire inside me. The sight of his bone makes me crave more.
As the stench of urine fills the room, I can’t help but burst into more laughter.
“Did you just piss yourself, motherfucker?” I ask, laughing in their faces while they glare at me.
“Fuck you,” one of the men screams, and I land a punch to his face.
“Now, I assume my father sent you?” I ask, ignoring his screams.
As the other nods, the one I sliced open responds with a grunt.
“Now we’re getting somewhere, gentlemen.” I stand back and cross my arms over my chest. “Now, what is he planning, and why hit my warehouse tonight?”
Both refuse to answer, which I should have expected. I guess slicing someone’s face open isn’t incentive enough for them to talk. I take the pocketknife and forcefully plunge it into the upper thigh of the other man, near his groin, then drag it down his leg, causing blood to gush from the wound.
“Oh, shit!” I cover my mouth with mock concern. “I think I’ve hit an artery.”
Fear clouds the man’s eyes, and I burst into laughter. However, he doesn’t even have time to panic because, within minutes, he slumps over. Blood trickles down his thigh and pools onto the floor.
“Odjur, now we can’t get any information out of him,” Alrick says with humor in his voice.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shrug, eyeing the other man whose terrified gaze is locked onto me. “This one will talk, unless he wants to end up like his friend here.”
I forcefully pull the other man’s head back, his hair tangled and stained with his partner’s blood.
“What is he planning?”
“He’s…he’s going after the girl,” the man stammers, immediately answering my question.
Fuck!
I tighten my grip around the strands of his hair, mirroring the growing rage surging inside me.
“What girl?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. The rage coursing through me is too real to comprehend. “Adahlia?”
I hope it’s Adahlia. Fuck, please let it be her. I don’t give a fuck what happens to her, but my Beauty…if something happens to her, I won’t survive it.
The man attempts to smirk, but the sagging flesh on his face makes it difficult. “This was the distraction,” he forces out, his words distorted from the wound to his face. “She’s the target.” His attempt to laugh results in a strained, gravelly gargle. “Did you think you would win against him? Olan has eyes and ears everywhere, and soon, he’ll have your girl, too.”
My father is looking to destroy me. He must know Belle means something to me if I’m going to marry her, and I don’t doubt Arabelle’s father told him all about my deal. Coming here was a mistake because he’s going after her.
I’m fucking terrified and seething as I pull my cell from my pocket and dial Hugo. He answers immediately.
“Beast?”
“Take Belle to the penthouse and secure her in the safe room until I get there. He’s coming after her.”
“You got it, Beast.”
“Change in plans,”I hear Hugo say before I end the call and focus on the man in front of me. I walk around the back of the chair and wrench his head back. “You chose the wrong damn side,” I hiss in his ear, slice across his neck from ear to ear, then release his head.
Struggling against his restraints, he desperately attempts to reach the gaping wound on his neck as his body jerks—a natural reaction to having your throat slit.
“Hold his mouth open.”
Asva walks up and forcefully opens his mouth, and his jaw pops. I pull his tongue out of his mouth and cut through the dense muscle, disregarding the blood that stains my hand.
