“Get Dante in here. She needs to be cleaned up.”
“Why?” I whimper, attempting to spit the blood from my mouth.
He spins on his heel, glaring at me. “Because, little girl,” he says in a low, menacing tone. “You’re going to bring me a lot of money. Every part of you.” His blue eyes glow with evil intent.
My body is rising to the edge. I’m standing on the precipice as the old man on screen pulls a blade from under the pillow and severs her head as the wand is turned to full pelt and I come harder than I’ve ever known a woman could.
My body is wracked with a sob, convulsions, and an orgasm that turns me inside out. My toes curl. I watch the head of a beautiful girl fall off the bed, and the man finds his own release in her now dead body.
When the door flies open, I’m crying. The white-coated man steps back after turning off the vibrator that’s assaulted me for as long as the video had been repulsing me. He smirks at the newest member to the room.
“Get her cleaned up,” he orders, then leaves us, his footfalls disappearing into the darkness.
The screen is black, but the dim light streaming in from the room beyond offers me a glimmer to see who’s walked in. My tormentor. The dark-haired man with the blue eyes that remind me of an ocean. Dante.
“You’re quite surprising,” he tells me. “He’ll make sure you break.” It’s a veiled threat, and I wonder if he’s telling me that in warning, or if he’s disgusted at what I’ve just been through.
“Help me.”
He stills in his need to unchain me. “I’m not the good one, pet. Perhaps you’re mistaking me for my brother. There’s no escape from the dungeon. You either conform, or you die.” Brother?
He continues to move swiftly, and then I’m in his arms, and I realize it’s not my captor from earlier. He smells different. Not as spicy. He has a unique scent which I commit to memory. If there’s two of them, perhaps I can figure out how to get them to help me.
When we enter the adjoining space, there’s a bed he places me on. I’m shoved onto my stomach and once more bound to the metal poles on either end.
I’m open to him as he washes me, his fingers probing me painfully. I can’t stifle the whimper and attempt to close my legs, but he only chuckles at the movement.
Once he’s completed his task, he leans in close to my ear. “If you can survive this,” he starts, “then perhaps there’s hope for us all.”
With that, I’m left alone to wonder what he means.
All I do know is that it can’t be good.
CHAPTER FIVE
DRAKE
I haven’t seen her in hours. My mind is filled with images of what I imagine is going on inside that room. The cameras before me are empty. None of the girls who are in their cells have moved.
But Caia hasn’t been returned to hers. I’m angry that she’s captured my fucking attention so much, but I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. Even River has been in here a few times to check if I’m still breathing. I don’t think I am.
Shoving the chair along the concrete floor, I cringe at the noise it makes. The moment I rise, I see her cell door open and her body flung onto the mattress like a rag doll. Rage implodes through me, simmering in my veins like a goddamn poison.
What have you done to me?
I wait for the asshole to leave her cell before my feet hastily carry me to her door. As soon as it creaks, she opens her eyes wide and watches me. Her long, dark hair hangs matted to her head. I notice the blood that’s been knotted in her locks, and my fingers itch to wash it out, to clean her, but I know if I go near her now, she’ll scream. She’ll lose her shit.
“Are you okay?” The question comes unbidden from my lips, causing me to cringe. Of course she’s not okay.
“Does it look like I’m okay?” she bites back, causing me to chuckle. Jesus, she’s beautiful when she’s angry. Her pale flesh is marred with red welts, and I know she’s been through phase one.
“Don’t mistake my question for caring, little bird,” I growl, stalking closer to her, causing her to cower in the corner. Her small frame shifting, offering me a glimpse of her white panties. She must’ve been changed before they brought her back in here, because those weren’t what she was wearing earlier.
“Fuck you,” she mumbles, her wide eyes pinned on me as I lean over the bed. Reaching for her, I grip her hair. Fisting it harshly, I pull her closer toward me. A tremble trickles through her; goosebumps rise on her porcelain skin. She’s perfection. Pure perfection.