My arms pull at the restraints, my legs curl and heels dig into the mattress, my back arching towards him. The threat of injury from the knife and the way his tongue lashes at mine creates a mixture deadlier than any weapon he could use against me.
He yanks away from me, abruptly, withdrawing both himself and the blade and simply stares down at where I’m a mess on the bed, restrained and confused. The metallic taste of blood sits on my tongue. His jaw pulses as he clenches his teeth and without a single word, he sheaths the knife, keeping his eyes holding mine, and withdraws his phone, snapping a picture before spinning on the heel of his shoe and exiting the room.
My lips tingle from the kiss, my body coiled up tight as heat continues to pulse low in my belly. I try to press my thighs together but the damn ankle cuffs stop me from being able to squash the sensations.
This is not normal. Clearly the knocks I’ve had to my head in the last few days have already taken hold.
Lex
I stare down at the image, the blood smeared across her throat, her chin and mouth, eyes wide and confused, staring right at me whilst I stand above her. I hit the send button.
He wants to play fucking games, we’ll play games.
But what the fuck did I do?
Kissing her.
Shit.
I still taste her on my tongue, taste her blood, feel the soft pillowy mouth yielding beneath mine with my blade pressed to her throat. The soft little mews and whimpers fueled me to go harder, hoping, like the sick son of a bitch that I am, that she would fight a little, let the blood roll and the violence add fuel to whatever fucked fire is burning between us.
I shake my head to dislodge the thoughts and fall down onto the couch, resting my glass in the centre of my chest.
I inhale the smoky scent surrounding me, a mixture of the fire and the whiskey in my glass.
I went into that room prepared to break her. I was ready to crush her, crush her pretty little wings and any fire she may still have burning. Use it to send a better message but I kissed her instead. Fuck.
I throw the remaining liquid in the glass down my throat and then proceed to launch the glass at the wall. It smashes, raining shards of crystal all over the fur rug that sits in front of the fireplace.
I didn’t live here. Fuck that. This was the compound, a safe house, set far away from the city with no prying eyes or nosy neighbors. It was guarded to high heaven with cameras all over the ground, a security system at the gate and sensors to alert me of any unwanted visitors trying to break through the perimeters. It seemed the best option to bring Wren to, but I want my penthouse.
I want to look down at the city below through the floor to ceiling windows that stretch the entire way around the suite, I want to feel the power in my veins, see my empire at my feet.
I feel weak right now. Fucking weak and that’s not a feeling I want to have for long.
I had hoped to drag this out a little, really make Marcus beg before I put both him andherout of their misery but I’m not sure I can last much longer.
I knew Valentine would try to make good on his threat which is why I’ve doubled the man power across the city at every location the Silver family own plus on the streets.
Marcus Valentine had been a cockroach from the very start, a dirty little snake that thought he would take the South side of the City. He was small at first and my father chose to negotiate rather than take out the problem. For a few years that was fine, they put their business through us, we controlled their connections, the supplies, dealings and negotiation but at some point Marcus slipped through the net.
He found allies in our enemies, grew his circle, his connections. I still have no idea which of the fuckers it is that supported him and funded his desire to take over the city but once he was dealt with, I’d find them, and I’d end them.
When my father found out Marcus was going behind our back he paid him a visit.
The thing about my father was, he truly was ruthless, brutal even but he wanted some semblance of peace in the city, so he tried to renegotiate.
Men died.
War started.
It was a year after that, six months ago that Marcus hit my fathers house whilst they were throwing a party.
We didn’t involve the citizens, especially not the ones that kept the businesses running and the cops looking the other way but that’s what he did.
The Police chief died that night and the resulting pain of having to renegotiate with the new guy that filled his place was long and frustrating.
Everyone has secrets, you just had to find the ones worth using.
Threats and violence only worked sometimes. It didn’t matter if they hated me or what I stood for, it didn’t matter if they loathed the fact that I held the true power in this city, despite their titles and appearance of authority, long as they stayed in line.
Everyone has a place and me, along with the Silver name and the ones closest stand on fucking top.