I glance around. Kat. “Are you fucking done now?” she asks her gun pointed up into the air.
I look at Rosalia.
She stands there, gazing at me with slightly pursed lips and the hint of a smirk on her face.
“Well,” she says, dangerously arrogant, “It will be my pleasure breaking you.”
12
ROSALIA
PLAYLIST: PLAY WITH FIRE SAM TINNESZ, YACHT MONEY
Iwatch her chest heave up and down against the wall, blood on the side of her face alongside a blue-ish swelling, a bruise on her throat where I hit her, and the marks on her wrists from before.
I must say, I am impressed by how she handled me; it was an exciting distraction, and it was definitely not the first time she had fought with someone, and will most certainly not be the last. The fire is spitting from her eyes, and I await her attack.
But nothing happens. She just stares at me. Challengingly. Daring me to lash out.
I know a brat when I see one, and I have absolutely no interest in them. I require extreme obedience. There is nothing done without my order, not even a blink, and none of my orders are questioned. That girl could never—not that I want her to. She might be a human I have to deal with for now, but it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t forgotten what she has done.
What I desire to do is break her. And so I will, because I always get what I desire. I will take her soul and deliver it to the devil myself, in pieces, crushed and humiliated.
Although…I cannot say with confidence that the latter isn’t something she would actually enjoy. From what just happened, I am quite certain she has some sort of kink regarding humiliation, and who am I not to find out? It might make it infinitely more fun. If I can’t kill her right now, I might make the path to it at least enjoyable.
She pushes herself off the wall and turns to Kat with one derogatory glance at me.
“We’re done here,” she says and adds in a sardonic tone, “So much about keeping her in check.”
Kat laughs. She likes that girl, I can see it, and I despise her for it.
The girl walks away to the room we found her in.
“You know,” says Kat to me. “She would be the perfect fit for you.”
“A fit? For me?” I ask incredulously.
“You heard me,” she says cheerfully. “She’s the first one to disobey you that lives.”
“She lives, because she will be useful! Until then, I will use my time to break her. A way that will satisfy my desire to kill her even more.”
“Uh-huh,” Kat says. “Tell yourself that, but I was a witness to your little bickering.”
“You call that bickering?” I ask.
“You should see Lilian when she’s mad,” Kat says and pulls up her shirt. There’s a rose scar, relatively fresh. “She stabbed me with a knife because I ruffled her feathers in public.”
“What a lovely wife,” I say, not totally aversed. “I can see why she did it. I feel that desire myself here and there.”
“Those who dish out should be sure they’re able to take it,” says Kat in her ignorant cheerfulness. “I made her sit on a glass fist for a day afterwards, gagged and blindfolded, she had to ride herself for hours.”
I have to laugh because I am a sucker for painful punishments.
“Now,” Kat says, “Let’s get a move on, before hell breaks loose.”
“It will anyway,” I say. “They won’t accept a woman as their leader. Let alone a little doll like her.”
“I don’t know,” Kat says. “They seemed to.”
