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“Nice try,” he smirked. “I think I've explained everything. Are you all caught up? Everything is clear enough for you?”

“Crystal,” I muttered dryly.

“Great. So, now that the history and timeline has been cleared up, let’s move onto talking about my plans for Rachel,” he grinned an evil smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

That's it, buddy. Keep saying her fucking name.

He grinned even harder when I gritted my jaw instead of answering.

“When Macbeth is done here, we'll send the pictures of your body to the Riders and your family.

We want them on high alert. Panicked. The Riders are waiting for our signal, and they'll launch their attack.

They have two men ready to grab Rachel in the chaos, and they'll bring her straight to me.

Unfortunately, I can't promise they won't have their fun with her on the way here, but that's what she's been trained for, isn't it?”

My entire body felt as though it had pins and needles with the anger and adrenaline running through me, growing more intense with every word he spoke. But I wouldn’t let him see he was getting a rise out of me. Emotions meant weakness. I couldn’t afford any weakness right now.

I shuffled slightly in the chair.

“When she gets here, she'll be brought straight down into the basement.

It's best she sees you with her own eyes, lest she start believing in fairy tales of being rescued.

And then I'll test her, seeing just how much of her training she remembers.

Whatever she's forgotten will soon be remembered.

No doubt my men will have given her a thorough reminder.

I'm not that interested in her body. Lord knows it's been run through too many times for my liking. I like my women more… innocent, shall we say? But the sacrifices we make, eh, Dante?” He grinned once more.

My fists clenched in the handcuffs.

“When I'm done, she'll be bundled onto a boat and taken back to my family. Old habits die hard, and we have quite the reputation where we are. Rachel will be put to good use as the nice little whore she really is. Whether it be the man who can pay the most, or the man who promises to do the most damage, we'll give her away to whoever wants her. We don’t need the cash, so the money isn’t important. What is important is that Rachel learns a valuable fucking lesson on what happens to those who fuck with my family. Alex will seem like a wet fucking dream in comparison to what we have planned. Tell me, have you ever heard of the urban legend called the Doll Maker?”

I didn't respond.

“That’s okay. I’m happy to explain! We’ve got all night.

The Doll Maker is, according to the legend, a surgeon who kidnaps women, and transforms them into dolls.

None of us are surgeons, of course, but we can make it work.

I’ve studied the Doll Maker for years. He’s a fascinating man, and the work he did was impeccable.

The first night, the limbs are amputated, and metal hooks are drilled into the bone that's left behind before they're stitched up.

Of course, you can buy artificial limbs to keep them looking pretty and cover the stumps, but we're not too bothered about that.” He paused for a moment, letting me digest his words.

Get on with it, you fuck.

“Next, the vocal cords are severed, and the teeth are removed.

A silicon mould is placed into the doll's mouth.

They can still suck dick like a pro, but they won't be able to bite.

Perfect, right? They can't speak, so no complaints, and just a smooth passage to have their throats fucked like the whores they were born to be.

The Doll Maker does a lot of training with these girls, according to the lore, such as whipping their pussies to heighten their pain tolerance and teaching them to feed themselves with their stumps.

I don't give a fuck about any of that. I don't care if Rachel has a high pain tolerance.” An angry look grew over his face, and this time when his finger paused over the knife, a bead of blood came from under the blade.

“In fact, I'd prefer her to feel everything.

Those hooks in her stumps allow us to string her up wherever we want and let anyone do whatever they're willing to pay a high price for.

If she can't feed herself, we'll force the food down her throat.

It makes no difference. Rachel will become a slave in all sense of the word, and there won't be a fucking thing she can do about it.

The Doll Maker trains his girls psychologically from a young age to enjoy what he does to them.

It goes without saying that we won't be teaching Rachel a fucking thing about pleasure.

In fact, I'm a big believer in female genital mutilation.

Women shouldn't feel anything from sex. This is what has led to the breakdown of so many marriages and the root cause of most affairs.

Women seeking pleasure for something they have no business feeling pleasure from.

It's a shame Macbeth wants you dead, really.

I could have mailed you her clit once I've removed it.”

That did it.

I threw my entire body forward with every ounce of strength I possessed. I landed on top of Callum in a messy heap, the chair at my back preventing me from moving too much. I heard the shouts behind me as the men scrambled to pull me off, and Callum began shoving me.

I knew I didn't have long.

I opened my mouth and bit down as hard as I could, shaking my head from side to side like a rabid dog. Callum's screams almost deafened me, but it didn't loosen my grip. I growled as I shook my head even more ferociously, feeling the warm, sticky blood ooze down my chin.

Hands clawed at my back and shoulders, trying with all their might to pull me off him, but my rage had me in too much of a frenzy to let go that easily.

I clenched my jaw as hard as I could, strengthening my bite.

I could feel my back teeth grinding together with the force of my bite.

And yet I still willed myself to bite even harder before I allowed them to haul me off him.

As I felt my body being pulled upwards, I gave one last wild shake of my head, ripping Callum's ear straight off the side of his head.

His screams were piercing as his hands came to his face.

I let out a roar and spat his ear on the floor next to his curled-up body.

My headache disappeared, my back felt no pain, and my earlier aches vanished as the anger sent adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I heaved myself backwards, jumping off my feet, landing with a crash on the floor on top of one of the men who had pulled me off Callum.

The chair broke between our bodies, and I shoved myself to my feet, noticing Macbeth run for the doors.

With an animalistic growl, I threw my arms wide, snapping the chain attaching the handcuffs together.

I dived on the moaning man on the floor and straddled his waist before I slammed his head into the floor over and over, hearing the crunch of bones as his skull fractured.

I kept on going, noticing the blood get thicker as brain matter smashed against the concrete flooring.

As his body flopped, I let go and twisted my head, seeing the one remaining man as he tried to get Callum off the floor, who was still screaming like a fucking child.

His eyes went wide when he noticed me looking at him. I slowly rose to my feet and turned to face him fully.

“L-Listen… This has nothing to do with me. I was j-just following orders. I—”

“Leave,” I said with a growl, in a voice I barely recognised. I couldn't give a fuck about the monkeys. I wanted the organ grinder.

My club would be back for them before they could get too far, anyway.

The man left like the pussy piece of shit he was until it was just me and Callum.

I grabbed the knife he had dropped when I bit him, grabbed hold of his shirt until he was looking at me and brought my face close to his, resting the blade of the knife beneath his eye.

“Look at me,” I hissed into his face, pushing the edge of the knife further against the thin skin .

“Fuck you,” he spat at me, his stupidity knowing no bounds.

“I’m a bit old for you, mate,” I said with a humourless laugh.

“You’re a dead man. When my family find out—”

“Wasn’t I already supposed to be a dead man?”

“You’ve no idea what’s coming for you.”

“Yeah? And you're going to regret ever having my woman's name on your lips. As for me, I'm going to enjoy every fucking minute of this.”