Page 66

I don’t care about anything else but appeasing this dark craving in me.

She’s here.I type the message to Mika as I walk inside my home on the compound grounds, where Kill waits for me, wagging his tail. I shake my head at him. As a Rottweiler, he should be feared by everyone, but my dog is a bundle of sweetness.

Crouching down, I pat his head, and he leans into my touch, licking my hand before I enter the kitchen and prepare his dinner.

Then I move to my bedroom, taking a shower and getting ready for bed.

I place my phone on the nightstand, not waiting for his reply. Then I slip under the covers, hoping that my brain can finally catch a break, allowing me some much-needed sleep.

Once I wake up, I feel reinvigorated and ready to face her, my body buzzing with a surge of energy.

Taking my time in dressing, I slip my gun into the back of my pants, and I go downstairs. Eating breakfast, I look outside the window that spans across the open living and kitchen space. It’s a beautiful late summer day, the sun shining brightly.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I am dragging out time after I’ve been desperate to have her back. Took one risky decision after another, yet everything went almost according to plan.

I put so much thought into getting Luciana back that I had no chance to think about all the ways I’d punish her once she was here.

I have the basics covered, but I am afraid seeing her will derail me, and I’ll end up putting a bullet through her chest, just like she did me. She doesn’t deserve that small mercy. She deserves nothing from me.

My jaw clenches so hard, a molar might crack.

Standing up, I walk outside and look at the path leading to the underground building. It contains a bunker with several safe rooms and a hidden torture chamber, as I don’t want my mother and sister to see me in action.

It’s further away from the main house, and my mother and sister never venture back there. My men know what to do in case we are attacked. I have so many security measures, I doubt that could happen, but no one is untouchable. I learned that. In case someone tries to breach this fortress, my men will escort my sister and mother to safety through the underground tunnels connecting the mansion and the bunker.

My men march up and down the property, greeting me with a respectful bow of their heads before continuing with their rounds. I hop into the golf cart and make my way to meet my prisoner.

Emotions battle inside of me, making my chest a war zone, two fronts fighting constantly and wreaking carnage—the remnants of what I feel for her combined with the misery caused by her betrayal. It’s that hurt I want eradicated.

She was sent to kill me. Why should I be mad at her for doing her job? That’s my stupid heart trying to process things going utterly wrong for me. I was so confident in her feelings, I didn’t consider that she’d actually go with her initial plan.

The rational part of me has taken apart every moment we spent together and the memories we made. I can’t overcome thefact that she played me. That’s what insults me. She should have killed me when she had the chance.

Once I park, I place my palm against the small panel that looks like an electrical box but disguises the security system. Taking the flight of stairs down, I halt in front of the metal door that is accessed with a code. My fingers shake as I type each number, surely eager to get her punishment started.

She’s awake when I step inside, her silver eyes shining with emotion. I guess I am not the only one affected. Her entire composure falters before she puts on a brave mask.

I would have given her everything. Nothing would have been impossible for me in my desire to offer her the world with me bowing at her feet.

I yank my gun from my back to make sure she understands how precarious her situation is. Pointing at her head, I taunt her. One shot would kill her.

My finger is steady on the trigger as she jerks her chin, challenging me.

“Do it. But I doubt you can.”

It’s her confidence that used to be the biggest turn on that now enrages me.

I pull the trigger and the bullet whizzes past her head, embedding itself in the wall behind her.

Her eyes widen, panic slowly giving way to relief. Fuck, that one singular tear rolling down her cheek affects me more than the reminder of wearing a dented pendant.

“I was right,” she says softly, a smile teasing her mouth.

“Where would the fun be in killing you that fast, Silver Death,” I say, sliding the gun into the back of my pants.

She narrows her eyes at me at the use of that impersonal nickname. Fuck if I care.

“You stirred up some shit.”