Page 81 of Uprising

I just hope it’s enough. God, I really hope it’s enough this time.

Roman

We made sure to keep him out of sight. To lock him somewhere secure. Somewhere no one could just stumble upon him.

It’s not that we don’t trust everyone down here but Ignatio is no fool, he has his hands in enough pies that he might just have someone here, willing to aid his escape.

I’ve had him strung up by his arms until I had time to deal with him. Left him in the dark. Mentally fucking with his head because he knows I’m going to hurt him and while I’m itching to cause as much pain possible I want him to suffer the way I have.

I want it drawn out. I want him to be there, in the darkness, trapped, helpless. Knowing there is no escape. No getting away from it.

When I walk in he’s hanging like some limp animal in a trap and I stand, letting the light pour in behind me, letting the brightness of it dazzle his eyes.

He’s still in his suit. His crisp white shirt from yesterday looks grubby. And I bet those shiny oxfords are more than pinching at his toes.

I pull the rope loose, letting him land in a heap, and he groans as his body collides with the concrete.

I know Ben is itching to get his hands on him, Holden too, but I won’t let them. This moment here is mine.

It’s Rose’s too.

And the thought makes me pause because as much as I’d like to walk out of this room knowing the bastard will never take another breath of air, I want Rose to witness it. I want her to enjoy this moment as much as me. I want her to have her revenge too.

I grab him by his collar forcing him into the chair and tie him in place, making sure the rope is tight enough to really cut into his skin. He barely puts a fight up and I guess considering his age he must be half beaten already.

“You and I are going to have a little chat.” I say.

He blinks up at me then his eyes dart to the door.

I smirk, walk over, and shut it and for a moment we’re both pitched into darkness before I flick on the painfully bright strip lights above our heads.

He hisses under his breath, squinting as his eyes adjust.

And I take the moment to pick up the cane from the side. It’s not the best torture device. If I wanted information I’d be far more successful with a knife, but I don’t want him to bleed out. I don’t want him to have any serious wounds.

I want him to stay here, to fester, to live for months, enduring every moment of pain I inflict upon him.

I lash out, striking his arm enough to make him jerk.

“You sold your daughter.” I state. “You all but marched her down that aisle…”

He lets out a laugh. “You’re still obsessed with her then.”

I narrow my eyes. “Not obsessed.” I reply. “I love her, which is more than you and that bitch of a wife have ever done.”

He takes in a snort of air. “Don’t act all noble with me boy…”

I lash at him again, striking his face hard enough to draw blood and he spits in response.

“What was the deal you made with Darius? What was Rose worth to you both? Huh?”

He tilts his head. “You think I had to make a deal?” He sneers. “Darius would have taken her for nothing.”

“But you wouldn’t have agreed to that.” I state. “No, you would have wanted to ensure you had a nice slice of the pie.”

He smiles. “What else was she good for?”

My anger flashes at those words. I smack him hard, hitting the same spot on his face as I did the last time and that wound increases, as does the swelling around his eye.