Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
After a final breath, I turned the corner and stepped inside.
Instead of Damien sitting behind his desk, he sat in the middle of his couch, which faced another sofa. His office was big, with two leather armchairs facing his desk as well as a seating area. There was a decanter of scotch in the center, along with two glasses that were already filled with the liquor. He didn’t turn to look at me, his eyes on the other couch.
I moved to the couch across from him and took a seat, directly facing him.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his palms together, his fingers spread apart.
I stared at him for a few seconds, and when nothing was said, I grabbed the glass and took a drink. Maybe it was poison. Whatever.
That made him snap out of his reverie. He dropped his hands and regarded me in silence, his expression no longer livid like it had been when he’d stepped into the Underground. He was relaxed, indifferent. He reached for the glass in front of him and took a drink too, like he needed the liquor in his blood to focus.
I didn’t speak because I didn’t know where to begin.
He looked me in the eye, his fingers interlocking so his hands were an enormous pile of white knuckles. “I want you to tell me what happened. I want every detail, even if you think I can’t handle it, and I want every person responsible for it.”
My eyes remained focused on his, but my mind was completely blank, unsure what he spoke of. “You’re going to need to be more specific—”
“I know she was trafficked.” His voice broke slightly, like saying those words to me caused him so much pain.
I didn’t know how he’d figured it out, especially when it had happened months ago. I’d dissolved that organization and turned it into a brothel. Unless he was visiting as a paying customer, I had no idea how he knew.
He stared at me expectantly. “Talk.”
I didn’t want to take this trip down memory lane, because whatever pain he thought he felt, mine was worse. Because I loved her in a way he didn’t. I’d loved her when I saw her on the floor of that cage, naked and beaten. Why else would I change my entire belief system in a single second? “She was at a bar, had an altercation with a guy in the bathroom. She fought back, kicked his ass, and called the cops. Turned out, he was the guy in charge of the entire sector. Petrov and the other guys were there, so they followed her home and broke in to her apartment that night.”
Damien followed my story, his expression controlled.
“I’m not sure how long she was there…maybe a few days. She and I weren’t talking at the time. I wanted to be with her, but she turned me down. That was weeks before this happened. I went down to the basement to collect money, like I always did, and that was when she whispered my name.” I closed eyes for a second because the memory was just as disturbing now as when it actually happened. “Her face was so beaten, I didn’t even recognize her…”
Damien closed his eyes, releasing a painful sigh that made his nostrils flare.
He told me to tell him everything, so I did. “She was naked.”
He didn’t open his eyes.
“I told them to open the cage. Then I got her out of there. I killed Popov because he was the one who’d beaten her. I let the others go because they hadn’t touched her from what I could gather.”
He was quiet for a long time, holding his body still as he processed the horrible tale. When he opened his eyes again, they were wet, like the emotion was too powerful to overcome. He couldn’t keep it together, not even in front of me, a man he despised. He didn’t look directly at me, his gaze focused slightly to the left of me. “Was she raped?” His voice was shaky as he asked the question.
“She never explicitly told me. But, no, I don’t think she was.”
“Why would she not tell you?” he whispered.
“Because I told her it didn’t matter to me…” Regardless of what happened to her, it didn’t change the way I felt about her, didn’t change her desirability. I didn’t see some asshole when I looked at her. I saw a woman as untouched by trauma as before.
He sighed quietly, his hands moving to his eyes so he could wipe away the moisture that built there. “I want them all killed.”
I didn’t question the order. “Alright.”
“Even if they didn’t touch her, even if they didn’t—”
“I’ll take care of it, Damien.”
He went quiet again, moving his gaze to the decanter of scotch between us.
Killing those guys would make things complicated with my men, but if that was what he wanted, I wouldn’t deny him. Would replace them with someone else who wanted a job.