“Remember their names,” I said quietly. “Sophie and Sienna Baldwin.”I pulled away, letting the silence stretch as his breathing turned ragged. “They’re the last names you’ll carry with you when you leave this earth.”
“I didn’t know they were off-limits,” he panted.
I poured another drizzle of salt on his wound while the other two snarled and struggled.
“Now you do,” I remarked lazily. “Amir, I think it’s time to use the cleaver and pliers on all three, wouldn’t you agree?”
Amir smiled coldly. “Oh, I would.”
All three men’s bodies bucked against their bindings, veins poking out of their necks, faces contorting as the pain took hold.
And this was just the beginning.
Chapter 31
Kian
Every one of my buildings had a working shower and I made sure to keep a change of clothes in the car. It kind of came with the territory and allowed me to scrub off the evidence of my work whenever I took part in teaching someone a lesson.
The guards I’d assigned to watch Sophie messaged me an hour ago to say she’d left the hospital for the day. Dina had picked her up and driven her back to the villa.
When I arrived home, a flicker of disappointment hit me. Sophie wasn’t there, waiting to tell me all about her interview. I told myself I was being absurd, but I couldn’t shake it.
The truth was that the woman made me crave something I had never allowed myself to want: a home with a wife in it.
The thought lingered, uninvited, as I moved through the villa, my dress shoes echoing against the polished floors, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.
I searched methodically for her: her bedroom—pristine and untouched; my office—empty; the living room—nothing.
“She’s in your room, boss,” Sonya said, leaning against the kitchen doorway. Her eyes crinkled with amusement at my distracted glance.
“Ah, thank you,” I said, turning to head back up the stairs when her voice reached me.
“About time you found yourself a woman.”
I let out a sardonic breath and ran a hand through my hair, not commenting.
My steps carried me upstairs, each footfall measured, while my heart beat eagerly. I wanted to hear about her day, see her eyes shine with excitement, and most of all, I hoped she loved the hospital so much that she’d stay in Albania.
Silly for someone my age: yes. But dammit, I wanted her.
I reached my bedroom and opened the door. The scent of her—warm, sweet, intoxicating—hit me before I fully realized I’d stopped moving.
My woman was pleasuring herself on my bed, her vibrator next to her, although she wasn’t using it. Yet.
Her red hair was fanned out against my sheets, spilling over her shoulders. Her dress slipped languidly off one shoulder, leaving the curve of her breast exposed. One heel dug into the mattress, the other leg bent at the knee, and she moved one hand with slow, deliberate intent between her glistening pussy. Her other hand was on her breast, playing with her nipple, twisting and pinching it.
Fuck, she was so achingly gorgeous that my cock instantly hardened.
For several heartbeats, I soaked in how beautiful she looked, her face flushed with arousal and her skin gleaming.
“Hello,” I said, my words filled with gravel as I shut the door behind me.
Her eyes met mine, heavy-lidded, daring.
My hand itched to reach for her. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside her so deep she’d never forget me. So she’d stay with me forever.
“I missed you,” she rasped. “Your room smells like you. And… you did say you want to watch me masturbate.”
