Page 85 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

“I-If you k-kill me, h-he will d-die,” he stammers.

I nod. “So, torture it is, then. I was hoping you’d choose that.”

“N-No. Titus,please!”

I hold him by the head and drive the knife into his eyelid, cutting through it and digging it into the cavity above his eyeball. He screams in agonizing pain, twitching under my hand.

“Tell me where he is and it stops,” I say over his screams. I slice his lid open and a river of blood pours down his face. “Now.”

“He’s, he’s in the warehouse! Both of them! Please! Titus! Please don’t kill me! The boy’s here! Bottom floor, first room! I swear to God!”

I look down into his bloodied face as he begs me for mercy. “Was that so hard?”

“L-Let me go,” he whimpers. “Please, Titus?—”

“That is not how this works,” I say and slice his throat. I let him go and he writhes on the floor, holding his throat as blood pours out of him. I watch him die, the life draining from him in seconds. When he’s still, I wipe the blood off the knife and pocket it. Now, to find?—

A scream splits the air somewhere downstairs, bloodcurdlingly high and rough.Sofia!

I run out of the room toward the scream.

29

SOFIA

When I wake up, I hear the sound of chains.

I open my eyes and for just a moment, I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. Or I’ve just woken up from a dream where I escaped and had a chance at a different life with Titus, only to wake up back in my prison.

I’m lying on my side, arms behind my back and the cold feeling of chains around my wrists. The oily smell of the room that I was brought to at the beginning of this adventure comes back to me as my head throbs.

And then my last memory comes back. The bastard brought me back to the warehouse.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and I twist around. Cyril walks in through the door, a small white bandage over the bridge of his nose, a flat, darkened bruise running up the middle of his face where I kicked him.

He sees me and smiles, stained yellow teeth flashing me through the room’s dim lighting.

“You’re awake,” he says. “Just in time.” He pauses, looking around the room. “Look familiar?”

I don’t say anything. He’s decided to keep me alive, and I can imagine that’s got to be for one reason and one reason only. He means to rape me or torture me… or maybe both.

He continues to smile at me as he walks over to the table on the far side of the room. No handy bag full of sex toys like Titus had. Not that I’m surprised. Cyril doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who might have that level of creativity about him.

“You know something?” he says as he leans against the table. “I’ve been in a lot of fights in my life. Won some, lost some. I’ve never met somebody like you, though. Women, even the ones who think they’re tough, they’re usually easy prey. Never met my match before you.”

I’m reaching into my sleeve for the bobby pin I keep there. Contrary to whatever the movies say, bobby pins are not great tools for picking locks. Which is why I studied using them since I was thirteen. It’s the one item I’ll always be able to sneak in if I find myself trapped.

Well, as long as I plan ahead for being trapped. The last time I was here, I had no idea that I’d end up in chains in a locked room. This time, however…

I carefully pull the bobby pin free, twist it around in my fingers, and point it toward the locking mechanism in the center of these shackles.

“After that first little skirmish,” he goes on, “I have to admit. I was hoping that Titus would get the bright idea to lend you out to the brothers. I mean, if his whole goal was to torture thedaughter of his enemy, what better way than to humiliate her, right?”

“Sorry to ruin your plans,” I say, trying to keep him talking. His eyes widen.

“Oh, so you are choosing to speak. That’s good. That is very good. I like the vocal ones. You a screamer, little bitch?”

I clench my jaw, keeping his attention while I focus on freeing myself.