“I’m asking you now.”
Lorik frowned. “Well, well, well, look who grew a pair of balls.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re surrounded by a bunch of mobsters.”
I squared my shoulders. “Lorik, it wasn’t Mancuso—whoever he is—back at the club. The guy…the guy I…” I struggled to say it out loud.
“The guy whose throat you slit.” Lorik completed my sentence for me.
My heart pounded. “Yes. He works for Vadik. Well, worked for Vadik. He has finally made his move. His first move in getting me back.” My voice trailed off, and I dropped my gaze to the ground. Ice was slowly spreading through every bone in my body. The thought of Vadik getting close to me, getting close to the people I’d grown to love, was turning my stomach inside out.
“Listen,” Lorik stepped closer, “Antonio will be home soon. Then we’ll figure this all out. But one thing I can tell you is I know Antonio. I know what a mean motherfucker he really is. And there is no way in hell he will let anyone hurt you. Okay?”
I nodded, but then Lorik placed his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. “Okay?”
I sucked on my bottom lip before murmuring, “Okay.”
“Great.” He stepped back then looked at the men behind me. “Now, please get this woman behind a locked fucking door before Antonio castrates me.”
The men led me out of the garage and through the house. The bedroom was swept and cleared within two minutes, and once they closed the door, locking me in, I finally took a breath. Everything felt hazy, surreal. Like I was caught in some fucking movie, watching from the outside. The silence that ensued was deafening. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat anymore. Maybe it was because I didn’t have a heart. Who would kill someone and feel…nothing?
Lifting my hands, I stared at the bloodstains on my skin. There was dry blood beneath my fingernails, and when I turned around, still staring at my hands, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.
I stilled. The purple dress I wore was stained dark with blood, dried smears still on my cheek and forehead. I touched the tips of my braided hair. It was wet. It was blood. Dear God, it looked like I had been to the slaughterhouse, and I was the fucking butcher.
Earlier that night, before we left for Vertigo, I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror. But now, I did. I recognized her. Her face. Her lips. Her eyes.
Her eyes.Dark eyes. Dark, wild, wicked eyes.
I stepped closer, my reflection in the mirror becoming clearer. The woman I saw earlier was gone. There was no trace of her in the picture before me. Instead, I saw someone else. Someone I had dreamed about for so long. Every night while locked in my cage, waiting to be hurt, waiting for my body to be defiled again and again, I dreamed of this woman. A strong woman. A fierce woman. A woman brave and tough enough to punish those who deserved it. And finally, here she was, in the mirror, staring back at me.
I closed my eyes, and I saw his face. The way blood poured from his body like a fountain of justice. His eyes glazed over, his skin pale, and mouth open while he choked on his own blood. I leaned my head to the side, and I could still hear the gurgling sounds that came from his throat. It was the same sound I heard the night Master V slit the throat of the girl I chose to share my food with. The same night he cut off my ear, mutilating me. And just like the man I killed tonight, her mouth fell open as well while she tried to gasp for air until…her dead body fell to the ground.
The more I thought about that night, the more I started to smile. Because of me, the man whose throat I slit tonight felt that girl’s pain. He experienced the same death as that poor girl. It felt good, thinking about it that way. There wasn’t an ounce of regret anywhere inside me. Only relief…because justice was served.
When the door slammed shut behind me, I opened my eyes and stared straight at Antonio’s reflection in the mirror.
He was standing behind me, his eyes wild and dark. Our gazes remained locked as we watched each other in the mirror in front of me. After what happened tonight, I didn’t once think about the repercussions I would have to face when it came to Antonio. My master. I was too high on the adrenaline, the power…the bloodlust. But now the high was gone, and uncertainty had taken its place.
“Antonio—”
“You killed a man.”
“I know. He wanted—”
“How did it feel?” He took a step closer.
I licked my lips. “I don’t—”
“Speak the truth, Doe. How did it feel?”
I swallowed, watching him as he moved closer, one calculated step at a time. There was no use denying it. The way he kept my gaze, his eyes cold and hard, he already knew the answer to his question. It was written in the stone expression on my face, I was sure.
He stopped right behind me, breathing down my neck. “How. Did. It. Feel?”
I leaned back against his chest and closed my eyes. “It felt…good.”
A low growl came from his throat, and he grabbed my hips, forcing me forward until he pressed me face first against the wall. Greedy lips sucked at the nape of my neck while eager hands tore at my dress. Within seconds, the thousand-dollar dress I wore was nothing but tatters of cotton and silk scattered around our feet, our rapid breaths a filthy melody of primal need and lust.
I peered over my shoulder and watched him tear his shirt, buttons clattering on the wooden floors. My breathing became more labored, my core tightening with anticipation.