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SEVENTY-SEVEN

XERO

Delta could be anyone.

I won’t give in to false hope until I have more information.

For now, I’ll focus on Amethyst. Her performance during that interrogation was disappointing. She was hesitant, skittish, and squeamish. There was no sign of the girl who murdered her music teacher for the forced abortion, and not a trace of the young woman who plunged a knife into her attacker’s throat.

And absolutely not a peep from last night’s crazed beast I had to wrestle into submission.

I can’t work out if she has multiple personalities or reserves that darkness for moments of peril. Either way, she needs to bring out her inner demoness. Someone wants her to die on camera, and she can’t afford to remain demure.

Paul gives me more information about his organization. In addition to trafficking victims to make snuff movies, the patrons who subscribe to their membership site get the chance to vote on a selection of women they want to appear in upcoming productions.

Since they regularly broadcast footage from state executions, the boss decided to showcase Amethyst in a video that mirrored my death.

After injecting Paul and his cohorts with a sedative, I leave them languishing in Dale’s blood and escort Amethyst back up the ladder. She trembles at my touch, as she should, because her inability to gain answers has earned her a punishment.

The moment we step out of the cupboard under the stairs, I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the little green room.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“You failed your first lesson in interrogation,” I growl into her ear, my cock stirring at the prospect of having her at my mercy.

She thrashes in my arms, which only gets me hot. When I set her on her feet, she bolts toward the door. Her hands scramble over the new locking mechanism, which will only open with my fingerprints.

“Get on your knees,” I say, my voice deepening.

“No.” She whimpers, once again trying to shrink into the wall.

The lab coat conceals that slender waist, the curve of her hips, and the swell of her ass, and all I want to do is rip it to shreds.

“Do you know what happens to disobedient little ghosts?” I snarl.

She shivers, rustling the plastic covering her enticing curves. My lips lift into a smile. She’s a pretty little present I need to unravel, and I’m not just talking about her wrapper.

I want to break through that timid little shell and see what layers I discover beneath. I want to expose the killer queen. I want her covered in those men’s blood with their entrails between her fingers as she demands more of my cock.

Fuck. From the first letter she sent, I knew she had potential, but last night’s performance took my appreciation for her to a new level. I can’t tell if she’s a sleeper agent with repressed memories or a natural. Either way, she has me intrigued.

“Answer my question, Amethyst,” I say.

“Why? Are you going to spank me again?”

“Nothing so arousing,” I reply with a chuckle. “At least not for you.”

“Then why should I move from this corner?” she squeaks.

“You have two options. Accept your punishment like a good girl and I might even let you come, or I’ll wrestle you into submission like I did last night and punish you anyway. ”

“That’s hardly a choice,” she mutters.

“You heard the man downstairs,” I say. “His boss wants you electrocuted for views. I want to make sure you can fight your way out of any predicament with any number of assailants.”

“But you already captured the men.”

“Their boss is still at large, as are other employees who will come after you to make that movie.”

She glances over her shoulder, her eyes widening. “What are you saying? This punishment will help me survive?”

I nod.

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “Alright, then.”

I raise a finger. “Take off the gown.”

She pulls it over her hips and lifts it off her head, stretching the silk across her glorious breasts. The fabric rides up, exposing a peek of her rounded belly.

I groan, my cock hardening at the sight of her perfect curves, but my smile fades at the first peek of her scar. It’s too thick to be surgical. Either the story about the car accident was true, or someone stuck a blade in her flesh and tried to tear her open.

The only person who knows the truth about what happened to her is her mother… Or perhaps that seedy-looking man who lives in her mother’s house.

She tosses the lab coat on the floor and takes her first step in my direction.

“Crawl to me on your hands and knees,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because it’s an order.”

Huffing, she drops to her knees, making those breasts bounce. Resentment burns through those fiery green orbs as she prostrates before me on the floor.

Her generous breasts sway with her movements, making me wish I’d ordered her to remove the camisole. Next time. Her perky little ass wiggles with each step, putting a strain on my self-control.

I move backward, giving her the space to crawl and decide against walking around her to see if groveling for me is making her wet. Why bother, when I can make her change position?

“You’re doing so well,” I say with a smirk.

Her features harden with resentment, yet her eyes glaze with arousal. I know she fantasizes about being made to crawl. As she reaches my feet, I fight the urge to reach down and cup her breasts.

“Good girls get rewards. Bad girls get taught a lesson,” I say, my voice thickening with lust. “Now, lie on your belly.”

“What are you going to do?”

“If you can’t fight off an attacker, or you’re overpowered, the next thing he’ll do after taking what he wants is tie you up for transportation.”

Her lips part with a rebuttal, but I raise my brow.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I say.

She shakes her head. “What do I have to do?”

I repeat my order, and she lies flat on the ground with her arms trembling at her sides.

“Like this?” she asks, her voice wavering.

Kneeling beside her, I take hold of her wrist. “If they get you into this position, the next thing they’ll want to do is secure your wrists and ankles, so you can’t scratch out their eyes, kick them in the face, or escape. Your job is to stop them.”

“How?” she asks.

Taking hold of her slender ankle, I bend one leg, followed by the other. “By not cooperating. By fighting with every ounce of your strength, and definitely not by staying still.”

She wriggles, but I deliver a hard spank to her already reddened cheeks. Her soft groan goes straight to my cock, but I ignore the urge to explore. Instead, I fold a rope in half, forming a curved loop where the two ends meet.

“Today isn’t about resisting. I’m going to show you a hog tie and have you escape it. After you’re successful, we’ll try the same again in a confined space.”

“What kind of space?” she whispers.

“The trunk of a car.” I hold her feet together and wrap the doubled-over rope around her ankles, making sure to thread its end through the starting loop.

She shivers, her body falling limp. “Shit.”

This is her submissive side. The part that enjoyed fantasizing about being tied up and used. I’m surprised she’s being so docile—and a little disappointed, really—but I don’t complain. Once she’s secure, I need to send out a team to scope out the studio.

I plan on razing the building to the ground, but not before I locate this Delta.

Call it my lingering daddy issues, but the use of that particular Greek letter is eerily familiar. I never revealed this to Amethyst in our letters, but each boy in our first facility was named after a Greek letter. I was Chi because my first name began with the letter X. Father’s first name is Dalton.

Crossing the loose ends over each other, I create a double tie around her ankles to make sure it’s a challenge. If Amethyst can’t muster up the will to fight, then she must learn how to break free from bindings.

When I lift her hands behind her back, she raises her head. “What are you doing?”

“Securing your wrists.”

“But how can I escape with my arms bound?” she asks.

“That’s for you to figure out.”

I raise her arms behind her back, making the silk of her camisole glide up and expose another scar. This one runs diagonally from the crest of her hip to the base of her spine.

With a frown, I fold the rope in half and slide it underneath her wrists, making sure it pulls tight.

She jerks back her arms, but it’s too late. The rope has already bound them together.

“Wait,” she says, her voice rising with panic. “You’re not going to teach me?”

“Experience is the best teacher. After you’ve failed a few times, you’ll figure out the best way to slither out of these ropes.”

“I thought you said bad girls get taught lessons. This isn’t fair.”

After creating a double-column tie around her wrists, I sit back on my heels. “Do you think the next set of henchmen Delta sends after you will knock first or ask you nicely to get into their vehicle?”

She doesn’t answer, but the pain in her eyes tells me she’s finally gotten the message.

“And the next time anyone tries to tie you up, don’t just lie there. Fight like they’re going to set you on fire because what they’ll do to you will be worse.”

Her breath quickens, and she rolls to the side, her chest rising and falling beneath the silk camisole. “Alright. What’s next?”

I rise to my feet and walk around my delectable little ghost. “You know what to do. Break free.”

She gazes up at me, her eyes widening. “But?—”

“If you don’t figure it out, you will be punished.”