Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I delivered her to a man who will hurt her, not for pleasure, but for pain. He will enjoy it, more than I ever have. He is sadistic, I know this because I run in the same circles he does, and I know what he’s like. I’ve heard the stories, and I know they’re not rumors. These are real, horrific events that have occurred in his home.
My office door flies open and Javier, along with Alejandro, enter, and I notice the man who they’re shoving into my private room. Guillermo. He’s still alive, barely, but he looks like he’s about to piss himself.
“Where is Rodrigo?” I ask, before he can mutter any fucking lie that will make me kill him on the spot. I don’t want a mess, though, so I refrain from my train of thought and look at the old man. “I asked you a fucking question.”
“I-I don’t know. I truly don’t,” he mumbles, the fear clear in his eyes. “He never told me where his hideout is. We met in public, and he offered me the money to ensure Hector would be caught. When I walked away, telling him it’s been done, he disappeared, and I didn’t hear from him again until two days ago.”
“So, you sold out one of your best friends, a man who loved you like a brother for a wad of cash, which is gone now?” He has the balls to look guilty. The temptation to kill him that was strong before becomes all-consuming, and I stalk toward the asshole, stopping a couple of inches before him. “Tell me, Guillermo,” I ask. “Did you ever stop to think about what you did?”
“Have you thought of what you did giving her to Rodrigo?” he counters, and my hand has a life of its own as I bring it up and slam it into his cheek. The metal of my ring cuts into his wrinkled flesh, and I smile when I see blood.
He drops to his knees, his hands clasped as if he’s in prayer, and he looks up at me. The plea is clear—he wants to die. But that would be too easy. Surely, there are better ways to deal with traitors.
“Take him down to the cells, I have an idea that would make him even more comfortable,” I order. Alejandro jumps into action, and Javier watches me through narrowed eyes. My mind formulates a plan of torture that I know my queen will never allow if she were here, but to keep my thoughts on something that’s not her, for a moment, may do me some good. It may bring some clarity to the situation.
I glance at my best friend. “Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” I tell him and turn to my desk. Opening the drawer, I pick up the item I need. It’s been a long while since I played with it, and I guess it’s time to bring it out of hiding.
It’s been fifteen minutes. I can’t wait any longer because the more I sit in my office, the more I think of Sofía and the fact that Díago hasn’t found her yet. Deep in my gut, frustration blooms like a bloodstain on a crisp white shirt.
Stalking through the hallways of my palace that no longer feels like a home without her, I make my way to the cells beneath the house. When I reach it, I find my men guarding Guillermo.
“Are you ready to meet your maker?” I ask him, as I motion for them to bring him out. The heavy metal doors that lead to the stairway, which takes you into the back garden, are opened. Men bind the old man to a chair, and soon enough, he is shaking with terror.
“What are you doing?” he gasps when he sees the small burner that I’m holding. I twist the switch on, and the hiss of the gas echoes around us.
“I’m going to show you what happens to men who fail to be loyal to those they promised it to.” I tell him, before stepping closer. I lower my hand, allowing the blue flame to toy close to his hand. He can’t move, but he tries anyway.
He begs, “Please, Victor, I know the error of my ways. I’ve learned my lesson. Please Victor.” I’ve always enjoyed this part. Knowing I hold their life in my hands, I’ve reveled in the power for so long that I can’t remember a time without it. But that’s a lie, I do, because it was when I had Sofía by my side.
At the memory of her, I trail the flame over the old wrinkled flesh of the asshole who set all this in motion. If he didn’t force Hector’s hand, causing him to get caught, I would never have captured him. And I would never have taken Sofía as mine. But even as I think that, I know it all worked out for the best. She’s mine, and I’m happy with her. I love her. But this asshole needs to pay in flesh for his part in this.