Page 32 of The Devil's Heir

Jarek

Finding Liliana upstairs is not what I wanted to come home to. She doesn't need to know my family's sordid past. Until I see that she's staying for good, none of that is her business. As much as I keep saying she will stay, I really don't know.

My ancestors were fucked up, and that's all she needs to know.

It has nothing to do with the present or the future.

I may be depraved, and I may despise most women, but I would never do what my ancestors did.

The cage punishment is the worst of my nefarious actions against women, and it's stated in their contracts.

When it comes to my lewd and sinful activities, I try to make them as consensual as I can.

Of course, Carmen and a few others are exceptions.

I have no respect for her or her kind, therefore consent is not needed for anything I do to her.

The only thing stopping me from completing all the vicious plans I have for the bitch is her uncle at the moment, and even that connection is beginning to fray.

I have to get the fuck out of here. I thought a nice afternoon home with my pauper would be a good change, but now I have the need to hurt something or—someone. I think a trip to the Reformatory is in order.

The Reformatory is one of my more darker clubs.

Almost anything goes while visiting this dance club, and below it—in the dark recesses of the club's basement— anything is fair game.

It's where the crime families come to do their most shady shit.

Whether it's weapon deals, drug deals, or ending the life of a snitch or traitor—they pay good money to use my facility for it .

We do most of our work here. The warehouse, where I took care of Liam, is just a convenient place sometimes. Tonight, I want to play. I need something more than the other clubs can offer me, and I want to make others dirty their hands to prove their fealty to me.

Not long after leaving the office earlier, my shipping manager had sent me an email with three names: Lansky, Richards, and Gallo. If anything, my manager stays on top of everything I tell him to do.

My car and driver await me out front as I step outside. Pulling my phone from my inside pocket, I text Lily a quick message.

ME: I won't be home for dinner, so go on and eat without me.

PAUPER: O—kay.

Her one-word message amuses me. I don't typically text her, but I gave her a phone to be sure I could contact her when needed. So, I take it my message surprised her. Smirking, I type out my next one as I get into the backseat of the car.

ME: I want you ready and waiting for me when you've finished eating. Jackson will be bringing a few items to your room. Don't be alarmed, I'll explain when I get there.

Three bubbles bob up and down, and then they stop. They start back up and then stop again. This happens two more times before a message actually appears.

PAUPER: Yes, Sir.

Grinning, I know she must have had a few choice words for me, but she kept deleting them because she knew better. Wanting to rile her up a little more, I leave my pauper with two last words.

ME: Good Girl.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket, a wolfish grin appearing on my face as I stare out the window.

It's time that Lily finds out how far my depravity can go, but more than that, she'll realize just how much she likes it.

I know that, without a doubt, my pauper has a little bit of masochism in her, and I plan on proving it.

"Ah, Jarek! It's been a while since I've seen your ugly mug in this place." Joey clasps his hand with mine in the air and comes in for a bro hug.

The Reformatory has always been more his scene; the fucker loves the darker shit. I don't mind it; I indulge in it quite a bit, but my best friend and future underboss lives for it.

"I needed a change of scenery," I yell over the music.

It's the truth. The gentlemen's clubs don't pique my interest now that my pauper lives under my roof. Lily's tight cunt is all that I need. It's an addiction that I can definitely afford to keep. She's always been my bad habit, even when she wasn't around.

Tapping my knuckles on the bar top, the bartender nods and pours my usual Makers Mark—neat. I lean my elbow on the bar top while I wait. Joey has two ladies hanging on his every word, or at least trying to, but he's turned his back on them to face me.

"So, you going to tell me what's going on? Why'd you need a change? It's not like you to come slumming." My friend's grin is contagious as I return one of my own.

"Let's just say I'm in the mood for violence more than I am for sex." I pick up my tumbler as soon as the bartender places it in front of me.

"What?! The great Falcon isn't in the mood for sex?" Joey pretends to be shocked, producing an eye roll from me.

"I never said that. You forget I've got a warm pussy that will be waiting for me at home."

"Then why are you here?"

The Lonzo Heir is lucky he's my best friend because anybody else who would question me the way he is would have a bullet between the eyes. I take another sip of my whiskey and shrug.

"I'm in the mood for blood."

My thoughts go straight to Liliana. Unfortunately, it's not that blood I'm referring to, at least not yet.

I never thought I'd like doing what I did this morning; it's never interested me, but with Lily—I want her fucking everything.

Call me pussy whipped or whatever it is that will make you feel better at the end of the day, but Liliana Sumner has been in my blood for too many years; it's only right that I get to have hers.

"Ah, I see. So, do you need a partner in crime?" Joey's devious smile makes me chuckle.

"Only if you want to join. I have three new recruits coming in. They're getting initiated. Those lying thieves are still in the cells downstairs, aren't they?"

"Where else would they be without your knowledge?" my friend asks sarcastically.

I slap the back of his head playfully. "Respect, Lonzo, respect."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, respect this." He grabs his crotch, winking at me.

Just as I'm about to give my retort, I notice one of the bouncers escorting three guys towards me. I nod my head in their direction and Joey turns his gaze the same way.

"That them?"

"I guess so," I reply.

"Don't look too bad. They seem to take care of themselves, and they're clean. What more can you ask for?" My friend snickers.

All three look pretty fit, and yes, they're clean-cut, but they have an aura about them that tells me they're not so straight and narrow. I toss back the rest of my drink and push my glass away, straightening while fixing my cuffs.

"Hey, Mr. Falcon. Want some company?" A redhead saunters up to me, pressing her tits into my arm.

I sneer down at the woman. I recognize her as someone I've fucked, but the hell if I remember her name. Shaking her off me, I step back.

"Watch yourself," I warn.

Joey steps in front of me and addresses the woman. "Don't ever approach Mr. Falcon unless he's called you over. Now go look for a fuck somewhere else."

The woman glares at my friend and then me, but I don't give a fuck. I've already dismissed her.

"Hey, Boss. I was told to escort these three over to you," Freddy, the bouncer, says as they come to stand before me .

"Thanks, Freddy."

The massive guy nods before returning to his post at the front entrance.

I turn to the three men and take a closer look at them.

One is faired skin with red hair—he's the biggest of the three.

He looks like he's on steroids, as bulky as he is.

The second one has sandy blonde hair with hazel eyes.

He's more like the boy next door , only troubled.

The last is another blonde with dark eyes and slightly tanned.

He definitely looks like he's got Italian blood in him. He must be Gallo.

"Names," I state.

"Richards," the boy next door speaks first, followed by the other two.

I was right; the last one is Gallo. There's something familiar about him, but I don't have time to sit here and ponder about what it is, nor do I want to have a fucking heart-to-heart with him. So instead, I pivot, lift my hand, and, with two fingers, motion them to follow.

Joey brings up the back end as we walk through the club and into the back hallway. Security, standing outside the door we need, opens it for us and steps aside. I lead the men into a storage room and spin around to face them.

"Before we go any further, you should know that once we get past this point, there's no going back. You're either going to work for me, or you will leave in a body bag. You can choose to leave now or proceed, but I thought you should know."

The three men glance at each other, but none move to leave. In fact, they stand up straighter as if they're challenging me, but I know their type. They want to prove that they're badass enough to work for Jarek Falcon. I'll let them prove it themselves.

Turning and walking over to the furthest shelving unit, I move a bottle of bleach over and press the spot where the corner of the shelf meets the wall, and the wall swings open slowly.

Soft lighting lines the steps downward, and I lead the others to the bottom. There are two floors to the basement. This one is just an ordinary basement; in case we're ever invaded by the Feds. I may have a few in my pockets, but not the whole department.

I stop in front of an old wood-burning stove that no longer gets used, and I turn the knob on the door of the old metal contraption. Another doorway slides open, and the last set of stairs loom before us. The lights are a bit brighter down here. After all, we need to see the handiwork we're doing.

There are different rooms for torture, almost like the rooms at my other clubs, except those are for pleasure and pain, whereas these rooms only offer lots of pain. Just past these rooms are the cell units where we hold our prisoners, and six of the fifteen cells are occupied at the moment.

Stopping in front of the first cell, I return my attention to the recruits.

"Your initiation starts now. I'm going to pull three prisoners out of these rooms, and you all will have a turn trying to get information from them.

If they continue to refuse, you will use your imaginations to give them an excruciating death. "

The redhead lifts his finger once I'm done talking and I raise my brow at him, indicating for him to speak.

"What if they talk and tell us what we want to know?" he asks.

"Then you make it quick and put a bullet between their eyes." I deadpan.

Red nods as he purses his lips.

"Do you have any other questions before we get started?" I ask while looking between the three. When they all remain quiet, I proceed, "Good, now, let's grab the first one and take him two doors down."

I point to the first cell and wait for the three of them to go in and retrieve the guy. Two of them drag him out while the third hurries to open the door to the room I indicated.

Once they have the prisoner strapped to the chair in the center of the room, Lansky and Richards step back, letting Gallo take the lead on this first one.

I already know the outcome because this prisoner can't talk, not anymore.

He's missing his tongue—a painful lesson brought on from the last interrogation.

However, Gallo doesn't know this. He hammers the guy with question after question.

Gallo plucks every nail from the guy's fingers and even cuts off an ear until I finally call it quits and allow him to put the fucker out of his misery once and for all.

They repeated the process, and Richards was up next.

I doubted he could torture anyone, but he proved me wrong.

He was probably the most vicious of the three.

Whereas Lansky beat the fucker when his time came until he snapped the neck after a particular blow to the prisoner's head, Richards gutted his.

I now sit in the car's back seat, thinking back to the recruits.

They all did well, but Richards is the one who sticks out.

Having that pretty boy look is definitely a win for him.

Nobody will think him to be a cold-blooded killer.

That's exactly what I see now as I think back to how he ripped the innards out from his prisoner's body ever so slowly.

He whistled a tune the whole time, a melody I can't get out of my head, yet I can't place where I've heard it before.

I give up and let my thoughts wander to a certain dark-haired beauty who should be waiting for me this very minute.

Reaching for my phone, I open the app that allows me to see my camera footage.

Just as I thought, Liliana is naked but pacing her room as she bites on her thumbnail.

All the items I had Jackson bring to her room are scattered across the bed.

My dick is rock hard seeing this image, causing me to order the driver to speed up. I need to be inside of my pauper, but most of all, I need her submission in everything I'm about to do to her.