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“Indulge me one last time.”
Bastard.
“Fine.” I cleared my throat. “It’s tears mainly. Blood. Submission. Screams. Those are my top four. But…there’s a fifth I’m starting to enjoy.”
Peter shot me a look so black, so full of hate, I almost tripped backward.
Glowering at him, I waited for him to drop his eyes and play the meek little slave.
Meek, my ass.
He had as much fire in him as Ily did, which was impressive, seeing as he’d probably been here a while—judging by Victor’s trust in him and his slightly higher position within the jewel hierarchy.
“Oh?” Victor waved his fingers. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“Words.” I shrugged. “There’s such power in them.” Slipping to Ily’s side, I threaded my fingers into her thick blue-black hair. It reminded me of how I’d held her against the bookshelves. Prone and at my mercy, letting her believe I was a cop.
“I find mental torture adds a…shall we say, ‘headier’ flavour? I love to read. I read because words have the power to hurt us—both printed on a page and whispered in one’s ear. Why abuse her physically without telling her what I plan to do first? If I tell her exactly what I want, then that paints an image. It makes her see and feel and endure those things before I’ve even touched her. No one is coming to save her. No one will stop me. Nothing will prevent me from making all those words come true.”
I forced a chuckle, hoping to fucking heaven that Q never saw the recordings of this. Never heard me say such things…especially since they were true. “After all, Victor—you keep telling me anticipation is well worth the wait. I’m merely dragging out the sweetness of pain by making her relive it again and again before I’ve ever laid a finger on her.”
For a moment, Victor didn’t speak.
I worried I’d revealed myself. Shown too much.
But then a sick smile reached his eyes, glowing in his dark soul. “I knew I liked you, Henri. And my instincts are usually never wrong.”
“I’m honoured.” I bowed my head. “I hope you know how grateful I am for the chance to be here. To be free—”
“Enough, enough.” He laughed. “You flatter me, and I will allow it…just this once.”
“Does that mean you’ll finally let me indulge in my fetishes?”
“Fetishes being tears and whispers?” He glanced at Peter. “Be my guest. I’m sure any jewel would be happy to kneel for you if that was all you wanted.” His voice lowered. “But something tells me that’s just the beginning.”
I held his stare.
He’d just given me permission to speak to Ily under his nose. To breathe my apologies all while I hurt her.
Knowing I could whisper to Ily in secret allowed me a little flippancy. The rush of winning made me slightly drunk on hope that all of this would work out.
I embraced the disease I’d been born with.
I relaxed my binds just a tad.
“Want to know the truth, Victor? What I want scares even me. I think it will take a while to fully embrace it.”
I shuddered.
I hated that I spoke with such honesty.
I hated that it was real.
“In that case.” Victor clapped his hands, holding my stare as if he fully understood and actually commiserated with my violent, vicious tendencies. “Let’s go and do something about that unfortunate case of blue balls, hmm?”
“Fucking finally.” Striding toward him, I snapped my fingers for Ily to follow at my heels. “I thought you’d never ask.”
With Victor’s chuckle licking at our ankles, Peter followed Victor, I followed Peter, and Ily followed me. Together, we made a corrupted procession down fortified corridors, past arrow slits and gun turrets, through luxury and depravity, before spilling back into angelic gardens where the sun shone brightly on all kinds of monsters.
