Page 44 of Devour (Blood and Roses #1)

Luca

V ito’s head hangs low, slumped against his chest. Blood mixed with spit drips from his busted lip. One of his eyes is swollen shut.

He’s unconscious—I know that much, but I’m not letting up. Not until I get what I came for. Not until he tells me where my wife is. We’ve been at this since yesterday. The bastard is resilient.

I haven’t even started on Finn yet. If I tried to torture him, I’d probably kill him too quickly, but I have other ways.

Cowards like him don’t need blades to break.

They need fear. I plan to twist his mind until he begs to talk.

He’s been watching this entire time, forced to see what I did to Vito. That’s step one.

“Shall we begin?” I say calmly, when what I am feeling is short of calmness, then douse him with a bucket of ice-cold water. The shock hits hard—he throws his head back with a gasp, sputtering as he comes to. I drag a chair over and sit across from him.

“Where were we?” His hand is already strapped to the table. Five blades are embedded beneath the fingernails of one hand, lined up like grotesque pins.

Now, I reach for the blade embedded in his middle finger and twist—slowly. He lets out a strangled scream as the nail begins to lift, but I barely hear him through the boiling rage in my chest.

“Where is she?”

“Fuck you,” he barks through gritted teeth.

I twist the blade deeper. Blood oozes from the nail bed. With a sharp tug, it tears free, hanging by a thread before I rip it off completely. He exhales in a broken gasp, but I’m just getting started. Two more nails come out before I stop.

“Are you tired already?” he pants.

“No. I’m just warming up.”

“Why don’t you kill me, then?”

He’s baiting me. He knows I can’t kill him. Not yet—not until I know where my wife is.

“You can’t,” he sneers. “You’re weak. Just like your father.”

“Don’t fucking talk about my father,” I growl, grabbing him by the collar.

“He was a cu—”

My fist crashes into his jaw. I don’t stop. I keep hitting until his head drops back, limp. With my fist still raised, he lets out a bloody, toothy laugh.

“That’s why he’s dead.”

I hit him again—harder this time—uncaring if I cave his skull in. When he doesn’t lift his head again, I finally stop, panting. His face is wrecked. My knuckles are torn and bleeding, but I don’t feel a thing.

I release his collar and step back. I let him get under my skin—again. Pulling a handkerchief from my pocket, I wipe the blood off my knuckles. What the hell did he mean? My father died of cancer.

He’s just saying shit to get in my head. I toss the handkerchief aside and grab the cattle prod attached to the wall, turning toward Finn.

“Your turn.”

“Get the fuck away from me, you deranged lunatic!” he shouts, trying to back away, but only manages to tilt the chair he’s strapped too backward.

“This’ll do just fine,” I mutter, clipping the prod to the steel chair’s edge. He thrashes, but the restraints hold him in place.

“If you kill me, my men will come for you, for your whole family!” he sobs.

“The men you betrayed?” I scoff. “Romano wants your head. Killing you would be doing him a favor.”

“I’ll tell you where she is… if you let me go.”

I crouch in front of him, the cattle prod resting beside my leg. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”

KI flip the switch to low and watch the shock ripple through his body. I know I can’t leave it on for long, I don’t want to fry him before I get what I need. I turn it off and watch the aftershocks twitch through his limbs.

“Is this negotiable enough for you, or should I take it up a notch?”

“Cr—Crim—son Daw—n,” he stammers. “I had nothing to do with it… it was all him…”

He keeps rambling, words slurred and incoherent. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your fucking uncle sold her!”

My heart stutters at the words sold her . I don’t even realize I’ve turned the prod back on until I smell burning skin. I yank it off quickly and move closer, fisting his shirt and hauling the chair upright.

“Who the fuck did you sell her to?” I roar in his face. He’s still dazed, struggling to form words. “Who the fuck didn’t you sell her to?” I shout again, shaking him.

Finally, he mumbles, “Crimson Dawn…”

Crimson Dawn.

I’ve heard whispers about it among the crime lords in the underground fight pits. It’s a highly secure, private auction house for virgins and illicit games. No one knows exactly where the auctions are held. But Ariel isn’t a virgin. Then it hits me.

He didn’t sell her for the auction; he sold her for the games.

By the time I find her, she’ll have been passed between men like a prize.

That’s why they’ve been stalling me. The pain tears through my chest. I raise my fist, meaning to bury it in his face again, to take out every ounce of rage on him—

“She was sold as a virgin!” he shouts suddenly. “I had nothing to do with it. He said Virgins fetch more money; it was all him!”

I freeze, my half-raised fist trembling. If he sold her as a virgin…Then I still have a chance to get her back—at the auction.

I need to find out when the next one is. I need an invitation. I don’t care what it costs. I need to reach Alessio. He’ll know how to get me in. I release Finn’s shirt and step back.

“If I don’t find her there…” I lean close, my voice ice-cold, “I’m coming back for you.” The horror on his face is the last thing I see before I walk out of the basement.