Page 56 of The Colour of Revenge

I go to unsheathe my knife from my thigh, but Nate stops me, handing me the pink knife that he stole from me when we first met. Okay, so I accidentally left it, but it's been months. He could have returned it.

I give it a little kiss to the smooth metal and whisper,"I missed you,"to it. Simon's face pales, realising just how maniacal I am now. No longer the young girl with whom he twisted and toyed.

"Make it hurt, Princess," Nate whispers in my ear, his voice a dark caress. The warmth of his breath skims across my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

A wicked grin spreads across my face as I glance back at him. "Oh, it's going to hurt."

With deliberate precision, I drag my knife downward, slicing through the fabric of Simon's shirt and the flesh beneath. Blood wells up, a deep crimson that spreads in uneven lines, and the sight sparks a deep, simmering exhilaration within me.

Simon's scream rips through the room, sharp and raw, echoing off the cabin walls.

"Go for his shoulder," Nate murmurs, his voice low and steady, a grounding force behind me.

I don't hesitate. The blade plunges into Simon's shoulder, the crunch of cartilage tearing beneath the steel like a symphony of vengeance. My chest tightens, not with guilt, but with exhilaration.

Simon's howl of pain only spurs me on; his anguish is a twisted kind of justice for all the damage he's done. Nate's hand brushes against mine briefly, a silent encouragement, his steady presence fuelling my determination.

This isn't just retribution. It's art. And I intend to make every stroke of it count.

Stepping back, I debate my next move. I have plans, ones I haven’t discussed yet with Nate. I’m not sure how he’ll feel about this next part—but I won’t change my mind.

When Simon had me, I was still a scared little girl. I hadn’t started to feel the rage yet, not in the way it consumes me now. I just did as I was told in the hopes it would make it better.

It didn’t.

My compliance meant he found new ways to make me scream. To make me beg for mercy.

“Boys,” I say, a little purr to my tone, “you might want to close your eyes for this next part.”

Three pairs of eyes snap to mine.

Nate quirks at eyebrow at me. “What are you planning in that pretty little head, Princess?”

I shrug. “I warned you,” I mutter as I kneel in front of Simon. The action a stark reminder of the many times I did this all those years ago. On my knees for my master.

I’m the master now.

I drop the knife to the floor, then slowly—methodically—undo Simon’s belt, lower his zip.

“Um, Princess?” Nate asks, his tone a mixture of curiosity and warning.

I don’t respond, instead focusing on my task.

Simon is squirming, and it’s making it difficult to remove his clothing, so I pick the knife back up and hack away until his shrivelled penis is before to me.

That’s what I was after.

Simon whimpers as I take his disgusting cock in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it almost lovingly.

“I’m really not sure how I feel about you caressing another man's dick,” Nate grumbles but he doesn’t move to stop me.

I twist my head back to see him watching me with wide eyes, fascination etched into his features. Kai is staring with a look of utter horror on his face.

“Please don’t do this!” Simon screams desperately as I bring the tip of my knife up to rest just shy of his balls.

Lifting my face up to him, I flutter my eyelashes innocently. “You used to love it when I would touch you here, Simon.” I add a pout for good measure.

Then—Without any more warning. I strike.