Page 172 of I'm sorry, Princess

He tilts his head, mock confusion flashing in his pale eyes. “Ten already? Shit. Time flies when you’re having fun.”

I bare my teeth, every muscle in my body begging me to snap his neck. “Go. Now.” My tone leaves no room for argument.

He smirks wider, because of course he does, feeding off my fury like gasoline to a fire. “Relax, honey bear,” he purrs, clapping me on the shoulder like we’re old friends instead of two predators circling the same prey.

I shove his hand off me. “Remember the plan. You go in first. I’ll be behind the glass.”

Because that’s how this game works, the glass in the basement is one-way. They’ll never see me, never know I’m there, but I’ll see everything. Every twitch. Every flicker of fear. Every time Thomas Beaumont tries to lie through his teeth. And I’ll know, in the smallest movement of his face, whether he had his hands in my father’s death.

Lev’s eyes glint with excitement, like a wolf who’s just scented blood. “Don’t worry. I’ll warm him up nice for you.”

Andres steps forward, cold and steady, sliding into place beside him. “I’m going with you.” His tone makes it clear it’s not a request.

Good. Lev without a leash is a hurricane. At least Andres can drag him back if he decides to rip out Thomas’s throat before I get what I came for.

I turn, leaving them in the pulsing chaos of the club, and head for the stairwell that leads down to the basement. The music muffles as the heavy door slams behind me, the pounding bass replaced by the thrum of blood in my ears.

I reach the observation room, the thick pane of reinforced glass stretching across one wall like a mirror. On the other side, the chair waits under the stark white light, bolted to the concrete floor. Shackles dangle like hungry jaws, waiting to snap shut.

I rest my palms on the cold metal ledge, leaning in, my reflection fractured across the glass.

“The game starts now,” I murmur to myself.

Chapter Forty-five

Lorenzo

Slap. The sound cracks through the basement like gunfire.

“Wake the fuck up, you useless sack of shit!” Lev snarls, his voice dripping with that unhinged glee only he carries.

Thomas Beaumont jerks awake, head snapping to the side from the force of the slap. A groan leaves his mouth, low and pathetic. John is still slumped in the chair beside him, unconscious, his chin resting on his chest.

Lev doesn’t wait. He swings again, slap, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls. Thomas’s eyes fly open, dazed at first, then darting frantically around the room. The fluorescent light overhead turns his sweatto a sickly shine. He sees John tied beside him. He sees the restraints. He sees the hammer glinting in Lev’s hand.

And then, panic.

“W-who are you?” His voice cracks, fear pouring out of him like blood from an open vein. “Who sent you?”

Interesting. Not what do you want, not please let me go. He assumes someone sent us. Which means he’s already pissed off half the world.

Lev grins wide, manic, his teeth catching in the light. He lets the silence stretch before he swings the hammer down. Crack. The sound is dull, but Thomas’s scream is piercing. His finger bends in a way fingers aren’t meant to bend.

“Just a friendly conversation,” Lev purrs, tapping the head of the hammer against his palm like he’s keeping a beat.

Thomas gasps, sweat pouring down his temple. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Smash. Another finger goes, knuckles splitting, blood welling. His scream chokes into a sob.

Behind the glass, I lean in, my jaw tight. Watching him squirm, seeing that terror in his eyes, it’s satisfying. But I’m not here for his cries. I want his truth.

Lev leans down, his shadow cutting over Thomas’s face. He lowers his voice, letting menace curl around every syllable. “You think I’m a patient man, Beaumont? Wrong. You’ve got seconds before I turn your knees into dust.”

The hammer swings again, thud, smashing into his left knee. The crunch is sickening. Thomas howls, thrashing against the chair, but the shackles hold him firm. His head jerks back, spit flying from his mouth as he pleads.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” he wheezes, eyes wild. “Please, I can pay you! Whatever you want, I can pay!”

Lev cocks his head, amused. “Not interested in your money.”