“Who’s the woman?”
Alexis points at a handbag that lies on the table. I go over and pick it up. It’s imitation leather, a cheap quality. The plastic is cracked. Unzipping it, I take out a wallet. There’s an ID card inside. I pocket it and take the bag, then tilt my head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Alexis drops the bag of peas. “Where?”
I smile. “For a ride.”
Francois turns as white as baguette pastry.
“Bring your toy,” I say to him.
He frowns, looking at me with a retarded expression.
“Your whip,” I say. “Go fetch it.”
He starts to tremble. “It’s not mine.” He points at Alexis. “It’s his.”
“Did I fucking ask you whose it is?”
“No, sir.”
“Then move your ass.”
Looking at me from over his shoulder as if he expects me to shoot him in the back, he scurries down the hallway and returns with the whip.
“After you.” Stepping aside, I wait for them to pass in front of me.
They don’t argue. Arguing will only make what’s waiting for them worse. Alexis grins as he passes, but it’s all acting. The coward is shaking in his pants.
Benoit and Gautier have arrived. They’re waiting downstairs. Benoit drives Francois while Gautier and I take Alexis with us. We don’t speak. It’s only when we near the warehouse at the docks where we torture our rivals that Alexis start to shift in the backseat.
“You’re going to shoot me?” he asks snidely. “Your own brother?”
I don’t bother to grace him with a reply.
After we’ve parked, Gautier escorts the two men to the warehouse. I take my Glock from the cubbyhole and slip it into my waistband before taking the whip. Benoit unlocks the warehouse door and flicks the light on.
“Wait by the car,” I tell Gautier. I hand the woman’s ID card and handbag to Benoit. “Get this to Dr. Olivier.”
They nod and leave.
Alexis and Francois stand in a pool of light that falls from a single naked bulb when I enter the warehouse.
“Strip,” I say. It’s the same order I’ve given Zoe only a few hours ago and for the very same reason—to punish and teach a lesson.
The men don’t move.
I take out the gun. “I can motivate you with a bullet in your foot.” I step closer. “Maybe one in the hand, too.”
At that, Francois starts unbuttoning his shirt. My reputation is solid. I’m a man of my word. No idle threats. I’ve worked hard on establishing that honor. That’s why I let no one off the hook, not even my flower.
Alexis follows suit, hatred burning in his swollen eyes. His nose is askew. I’ve broken it. Good. I love the bruises blooming on his jaw.
I circle them like a shark, gun clutched in my hand, until they stand naked. Their cocks are flaccid.
Tapping the barrel of the gun against Francois’s temple, I say. “Get him hard.”
He turns his head quickly to look at me, slobber flying from his mouth. “What?”
I point at Alexis’s soft dick. “Get it up.”
Alexis growls. “What the fuck?”
“Shut up.” I press the gun barrel on Alexis’s hand, right above his trigger finger. “Do you need motivation?”
He’s seen me torture our enemies before. He knows what I’m capable of. Gritting his teeth, he shakes his head.
Francois faces my brother reluctantly. Sweat beads on his forehead as he grips my brother’s cock in his fist. Pinching his eyes shut, he turns his head away and starts pumping. The sick pervert that my brother is, he gets hard.
I kick a bench toward Francois. “Bend over.”
He stumbles a step back. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Walking with slow steps to the bench, he bends over, leaning his shaking arms on the wood. He looks at me from over his shoulder, his chin wobbling.
I give Alexis a shove. “Fuck him.”
Alexis rounds on me, his eyes huge. “What?”
“Shove your dick in his ass and fuck him like you mean it, or you both get a bullet in the hand. I can guarantee you’ll never use a gun again.”
Alexis curses, but he goes forward. Inwardly, I smile. My brother isn’t only a coward, he’s also the worst kind, the kind who’d turn on a friend to save his own skin. He’d rather fuck his buddy in the ass than be the one who’s fucked, which is why I’m letting him have a go first. I can’t wait to see his face when it’s his turn. They’re going to fuck each other until their dicks are limp and then again. I’m going to whip them to shreds while they do it.
Picking up the whip, I tighten my fingers around the handle. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, and I have all night.
Chapter 25
Zoe
It’s dawn, and Maxime is still not home. I’ve been pacing up and down, unable to think about anything but that woman, unable to get the images out of my head. I’m still dressed in the red ballroom gown and Maxime’s jacket, my ass smarting from his belt, yet I feel extremely lucky, lucky that I’m not that girl. Knowing how easily that could’ve been me makes me sick. It leaves me with unanswered questions about who this family is and why they took me. If only I had access to the internet, I could’ve done my own research. I wish I could’ve called Maxime, but my phone is in the clutch bag we left at the hotel.