“Don’t bother with the brave act,” he said, shaking his head. “I know all about you. More than you probably realize. I know that your idiotic parents and even my own nephew have played a part in sheltering you to the point that it renders you useless in our world. The blood alone is probably enough to horrify you, isn’t it? You aren’t used to any of this.”
“Was that your goal?” I voiced, my voice raw from screaming.
“No,” he chuckled, a malicious glint in his gaze. “Unfortunately, we didn’t get a chance to clean up before you arrived. I know it’s hard to believe, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. After all, we run a criminal enterprise here.” He sounded so fucking proud of it, but at the same time, there was a bitterness to his tone.
I couldn’t help the words that came out of my mouth next. “No,youdon’t run anything.”
When he lunged forward, I expected the slap, and it hurt as much as you would assume coming from a grown man. I felt my eyes water, a small whimper nearly breaking from my lips, but I kept my chin up and looked back at him. I needed to not goad him, but there was something about this man that did almost the exact opposite of scare me.
He made me…furious. Every time I looked in his face, I saw the resemblance to Dermot, and it reminded me, starkly, of what he’d done to his own son. Of how he treated him.
“If you’re disrespectful again, I will bring the boy in here and you can deal with him,” Patrick Ross said coolly. Instantly, my entire body tensed, and a grin grew on his face.
“Ah, scares you, doesn’t it? Good. That should. Although, I heard you are getting fucked by six men, including my own son, so maybe it’s not fear. Maybe that’s what you’re into.”
“No.” I swallowed, feeling anger warm my chest and push away the fear of what was coming next.
His eyes darkened as a look of annoyance crossed his features. “I know it’s not a kink. I am well aware that all of those boys are obsessive over you…which serves my purposes. You see, Dahlia, as much as I love having you here, I am far more interested in bringing all of them to their knees, and you are going to help me do that.”
Never.
I kept my mouth shut as he chuckled softly and looked down at his watch. “I would say we have maybe thirty minutes, which gives us more than enough time to talk.”
“Talk about what?” I demanded.
He tilted his head. “I’ve been curious—you were brought to the compound, but are you really aware of what it is your boys and our family do?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.” He motioned and the room darkened slightly, a projector starting up and making me jump. I kept my gaze on him, unfortunately, as he walked over and crouched down, turning my chin so I had to look at the screen. My eyes widened at what I was seeing.
A large basement.
A man tied to a chair… No, not a man. Ian’s brother, George.
I watched as Kingston and Dermot appeared in the room, Lincoln and Stratton both looking up to greet them. George was unconscious, completely unaware of what I was almost positive was about to be his demise. Oddly enough, despite knowing instinctively what was going to happen, I couldn’t stop looking. Iwantedto look. I wanted to face the reality of what my boys were capable of. I knew it was a darkness that I would never be able to unsee…but I also knew that they did it because they truly thought it was the right thing to do.
I titled my head, watching as Dermot threw an icy bucket of water onto George, who immediately began freaking out as he was yanked into consciousness. I could hear their voices faintly, but I wasn’t focused on that. Instead I was focused on the way that they were talking to him, interrogating him, and the true anger that was on all of their faces, along with something so much more than that…
Fear?
I could see the fear there, but it wasn’t for George. No, it was because of Ian. I knew that was what they were questioning him about. Something about Ian really upset my boys, and I had to assume it was because of me. I had to assume it was the threat he posed.
I inhaled, realizing that all of this was…for me. It had never been so clear in my twisted brain that they loved me, and instead of finding fault in their actions, I felt a rightness settle in my bones.
I barely blinked as King came up behind George and pinned his hand to the arm of the chair with a dagger, his screams filling the space. I watched every ounce of pain flash across George’s face and the way King seemed to relish in it before he buried another one in his other hand. I could see sweat and blood running over George’s skin and soaking his clothes.
I saw him give in when the pain finally became too much, shouting something about Ian trying to find me. Those words barely registered as I watched, absolutely fascinated, with the way King’s face turned furious at how he described me.
That was when it turned really bloody.
I couldn’t even tell you the tools they used, Lincoln and Kingston turning into different men than the ones I knew. Stratton didn’t partake, but I could see the anger in his eyes, and the cold fury I saw when he fought seemed ten times more present. I swallowed, far more fascinated by them than George—
“Do you see the nightmares you let into your bed?” Patrick chuckled, the screen blanking out before he went to go sit back in his chair.
I turned towards him as the lights rose back and answered honestly, “All I see are the men who love me trying to protect me.”
Shock crossed his face before he let out a bark of laughter. “I am starting to understand why they thought you could handle this, Dahlia. That’s fine, little girl—if you think you can handle that, then I will make sure you are exposed to everything, including when I tear your men limb from limb. Then maybe I will keep you by my side. How does that sound?”