“She’s not your woman,” I say calmly. “When will you realize that?”
“She agreed to marry me.”
“To save me,” I point out. “So who can claim to have her, really?”
I know I’m goading him. But I can’t fucking help it. One look at that smug, wrinkled face and I want to fucking rip out of these restraints and murder the bastard.
Rokiades takes a step forward. “I will kill you when this is all over,” he promises me. “But I want you alive for our wedding. I want you to spend that night awake knowing what I’m doing to Renata. I haven’t touched her yet, you know. I’m saving that indulgence for our wedding night. I will fuck her so hard that she will be in no doubt as to who she belongs to. Maybe I’ll even get you a room next to ours so that you can hear her scream.”
I shouldn’t react. It’s just giving him what he wants. But my blood is boiling and my skin is crawling with rage and all I can do is tug at the restraints on my wrists as hard as I can while I roar.
Rokiades throws back his head and laughs, but there’s no humor there. Just black anger trying to find an outlet. He hates that Renata wants me over him. And he’s trying to save face by rubbing his power in mine.
“Such a strong reaction for a woman you claim not to care for,” Rokiades says shrewdly. “I think I will get you that room. It’ll be so much more fun fucking her, knowing you’ve got a front row seat.”
The clang of my chains echo through the warehouse. “Death is at your door, old man,” I growl at him. “Mark my words. I will kill you with my bare hands.”
The smile drops from his face and he nods to his guards. “Hold him in place,” he orders. “I need to use my fists.”
I can’t help but pity the old goat. I’m already cuffed, but apparently, that’s not enough for him. He needs to make doubly sure that I can’t hit back.
His guards hold me down as he rolls up his sleeves. Then, with a grimace, he punches me. Once. Twice. Three times. I take each hit without so much as a grunt, without a frown, without anything. I won’t give him the fucking satisfaction. And I can sense his growing infuriation in the desperation of his next punch. He winds up and gives it everything he has. My broken rib crunches again. I don’t so much as blink.
A new man strides into the room. “Sir?”
“What?” Rokiades growls. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“Sir, your personal doctor is requesting an audience with you,” the guard says apologetically. “He says it’s urgent.”
Rokiades glares at me. “It’s only a matter of time,” he snarls at me.
I smile and nod. “I couldn’t agree more.”