When Nikolas ends the kiss, we’re both breathless, intense desire darkening his gaze. “Christ, you need to heal faster,” he mutters as he pulls away from me. Taking my hand, he links our fingers and leads me out of the walk-in closet.
Time to face my enemy.
Shit.
Be strong, Tess.
Just like every other time we go out, Nikolas stays by my side. I keep glancing at him, noticing how his gaze scans every shadow and person, fully on guard.
His features settle into the grim lines I used to fear as his role of husband takes a back seat to him being the head of the mafia.
Once we’re in the SUV, Nikolas straps me in, the action now warming my heart. He holds my hand, his thumb brushing softly over my skin, and again I fall a little deeper in love.
When we stop at the front of an impressive skyscraper, I frown. I expected a warehouse or building in the rough part of town.
“This is where you work?” I ask, my eyes dancing over all the steel and glass.
“Yes.”
I’m helped out of the car even though I can manage on my own. I’ve given up telling Nikolas otherwise. The man never listens and does only what he wants.
As we walk into the office building, I feel power radiating from Nikolas, his steps confident and fearless.
Borrowing some of his strength, I lift my chin, forcing my face to become expressionless.
You can do this.
You’re Nikolas Stathoulis’ wife.
You have to do this.
We ride the elevator up to the sixth floor, and I’m led down a hallway. Two men guard a door, and just the sight of them makes my heartbeat speed up, and my mouth dries out.
Nikolas tugs me to a stop, and turning me to face him, his hands frame the sides of my head. His expression doesn’t soften as he looks down at me. I see the rage, his craving for blood, the ruthless devil.
“She’s nothing,” he growls, his voice laced with vengeance and brutality. When I nod in his hold, he continues, “You’re my queen, Theresa. Those who are against us die.”
I nod again.
“No mercy.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my hands fisting at my sides.
Nikolas stares me down until there’s an echo of the fear I used to feel for him, but instead of cowering, I lift my chin higher. My tone is unforgiving when I say, “I’m ready.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, then we’re moving again. One of the guards opens the door, and nothing could prepare me for what I find inside.
Chapter 36
Tess
It’s a big room, almost the size of our living room. There are buckets of water, and a table lined with all kinds of knives and pliers. There are also crates… are those jumper cables attached to a battery?
Horror threatens to ripple through me at the sight of all the equipment that’s clearly here for torture.
Then my gaze locks on Irene, where she has a noose around her neck, her toes barely perched on a crate.
HOLY SHIT.
God.
I come to a dead stop, taking in her worn state. Her hair’s no longer styled but hangs disheveled in her face. Her skin’s pale, almost gray, her lips cracked. The orange satin dress she wore to the party is stained with… God, I don’t want to know.
She looks like shit.
Her eyes lift, and the second they lock on me, she starts to cry. “Theresa, help! You have to help me.”
Nikolas lets go of my hand, and I watch as he slowly stalks around Irene, who starts to squirm with fear. He looks like a predator stalking his prey.
Just like Irene looked whenever she hurt me.
I lift my chin higher, reminding myself of the monster she is.
She laughed while I bled.
She relished in my pain when she broke my bones.
When I cried for my dad, mourning his death, she was there to make it a million times worse.
When I fell in love for the first time, Irene taunted me until I believed I’d never be good enough for anyone.
Every time I tried to build myself up, she would slam me back down. She shattered me every chance she got.
My hatred flares up, suffocating the life out of the fear I always felt for her.
I take a step closer and let my gaze drift over Irene. I feel Nikolas’ power become a second heartbeat in my chest.
“You tortured me.” My voice is low and deadly as my husband comes to stand next to me. It’s only then I realize how stupid Irene is. She actually believed she could get away with hurting Nikolas Stathoulis’ wife.
Insane.
Nikolas pulls a gun from behind his back and trains it on Irene. His fingers are firm around the weapon, his hold steady.
She instantly starts to sob, her always smug and hateful face crumbling.
Where are the sneers now? Where’s the evil gleam I used to see before pain followed?