Page 20 of Deceptive Desires (The Syndicate #2)

Roman

I splash cold water over the fucker dangling from the ceiling by the chains on his hands. Leo sputters and coughs, waking up. When his eyes land on me, he recoils.

“What the fuck? What’s going on?” he groans out in pain, the beating he took obvious. But the dried blood and crooked nose barely satisfy me.

I need him to feel my wrath.

“We’re going to have a little chat,” I tell him.

He pales, then gets a spark in his eyes.

“I know who you are, Roman Montclair. I hear things. You’re a bad man. You kill people. Torture them. Cecilia will hate you when she finds out,” he threatens me.

“If she finds out. And if she does, it’ll only be on my terms,” I correct him.

“I’ll tell her. As soon as I get out, I’ll go to her,” he continues.

“If I let you out. And even if I do, you’re never speaking to her again,” I growl, and the memory of her passed out, drugged resurfaces.

“You can’t stop me,” he taunts, but there’s tremble in his voice.

“I can kill you. Then you can’t speak to anyone ever again. Then you can’t drug and rape any more women,” I spit out, then throw my fist. The crunch as it collides with his ribs soothes me just barely.

I need to make him pay.

He howls in pain, but it’s not enough.

“I didn’t drug anyone. She had too much to drink,” he cries out.

“You’re a fucking liar and a rapist. She only drank water.” I slap his face, knowing how much more demeaning it is than a punch. And how painful it’ll be on his broken nose. “Be a man and own it.”

“So, what if I did? It was my birthday. She’s been leading me on for years. She just needed a little encouragement. If you hadn’t been there, she’d be mine by now.” The evil gleam in his eyes steels my heart.

I’ve had many men in this room, some more deserving than others, but their eyes always give away their worth. And this scum, this filth, is worthless.

I growl as I hit him. My anger overcomes me.

Hit after hit, I break his ribs. His sternum. His clavicle. I keep going until he’s nothing but a bloody, bruised bag of bones.

He’s howling, sobbing, begging for mercy.

“I don’t allow rapists to live. Especially not when they’re drugging women in my territory.” I grind my teeth, pissed at what I have to do. “But you were Cecilia’s friend. And she’d be upset if I killed you. So, I’ll let you live.”

He spits on me, pure hatred in his eyes. “I’m not going to thank you for sparing me. You’re more evil than I could ever be. I may have slipped a little something in her drink, but you’re the one torturing her friend.”

“I’m leaving you alive in honor of her. Because she’s too good of a woman. But you will remember your lesson.”

I grab my knife and a lemon from the table. I cut the lemon in half and swipe the knife through its juices.

I rip up the side of his shirt until his broken ribs are accessible.

Then I get to carving.

RFM

My initials forever engraved into his side. Very largely. He will bear his mark of shame, and if I ever capture him again, I will kill him. I tag him as I do all my interrogees even though there’s no way I could ever forget the man who tried to rape my girl.

Once the wound is bleeding, I grab half of the lemon and press it into his carving. I twist it and squeeze, letting the acidic juices burn into him.

His screams, his tears, are the only thing calming me.

“You… sick… fuck…” he gasps out. “She’ll… never… choose… you.”

I growl and unhook his wrists.

“She doesn’t have a choice,” I mutter, knowing it’s the truth. She’s choosing me now, but if she ever changes her mind, I’m taking her. Keeping her. And no one, not even she, can stop me. “Now, you need a daily reminder of what you did.”

I drag him by his collar to the metal table but keep him on the end away from the weapons. He can barely hold himself up, but even healthy and with a weapon, he’d be no match for me.

I grab a hatchet and lay his left hand down.

When he realizes what I’m about to do he tries to fight me off, but to no avail.

I swing it down, chopping through the bone, dismembering his left ring finger. Now he’ll never be able to wear a ring claiming a wife. He doesn’t deserve that. And no woman should have to be stuck with him.

I throw a rag at him and tell him to keep pressure on it if he wants to live. No way am I helping this fucker not bleed to death. His life is in his own hands.

“Oh, and one more thing. If you ever go near Cecilia, try to contact her, or even think of her, I’ll know.

And I will kill you in a more painful way than you can imagine.

Then, I’ll go after those you care about.

Or maybe I’ll get to them first. Make you watch.

Have your last moments on this earth be watching what you did to the ones you love,” I promise. “Do you understand?”

He glares at me. Good enough.

I grab his phone and block Cecilia’s number. I also delete her and Gracie’s contacts and remove all evidence of her from his phone. He’ll never touch her again.

I leave the room and call one of my men to keep an eye on him. He can be set free when his finger stops bleeding.

If it doesn’t stop, my man will cauterize the wound. And as much as I’d love to be here for that, I have my sunshine waiting for me at her place.

***

In clothes identical to the ones I wore at the club, I stand in the corner of her room and watch her sleep.

The slow rise and fall of her chest are the only indication that she’s well. That she’s restful and healthy. That I saved her in time.

It calms me.

Only when I can barely stand from exhaustion do I move from my position. I lay on the other side of her bed, and drag her to me, curling her onto my chest.

The feeling of her pressed against me, soothes the fire raging within. She’s safe here with me, in my arms. No one can get to her.

No one can get through me.

I’ll protect her with my life.