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That was the right response because his eyes glowed in pleasure. He loved to hear me stroke his ego, even if I was just blowing smoke up his ass. He loved knowing he had absolute control over me—everywhere I went. I didn’t pretend I didn’t want to run. I just gave the explanation he wanted to hear—and it worked. “Good little cunt.”
The name still hadn’t grown on me.
“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. That fire still burns in your eyes, dimmer but bright. But your mind makes good decisions. You understand when you’re outnumbered and know when to yield. That’s what smart slaves do. The others were never so smart.”
I wanted to stab my knife into his throat. I wanted to cut his carotid artery and watch him bleed out and die. When he disrespected me like that, I wanted to murder him. But when he talked about his former slaves, about how weak they were, it sent me into a rage. The fact he killed them so easily, tossed them aside like a used condom, just pissed me off. I didn’t just want revenge for what he did to me. I wanted revenge for what he did to all those others.
I knew I needed to respond since he was staring at me in expectation. “Maybe one day you can give me power.”
“Why would I do that?” He chuckled like the idea was hilarious.
“Well, are you going to be single forever? You never think about having a wife? Children?” The more I hated him, the harder it was to manipulate him. The words burned my throat on the way out.
“A wife?” he asked. “Why would that be a position of power?”
“Mrs. Bones?” I asked. “Married to the wealthiest, most criminal man in the world? I think a title like that automatically comes with power. It comes with respect. It comes with privilege. She could walk up to anyone and shoot him in the head without a single consequence. She could raise your children to respect you, to fear you. It sounds like a position any woman would kill to have.”
His dinner was only half eaten, but he no longer paid attention to it. He watched me with interest, replaying my words in his head. “I think I understand now.”
Understand what? Did he know what I was doing?
“You came here hating me. But now, you’re jealous of my wealth. My power. You want to get some power for yourself—even if it means marrying me.”
Whatever keeps him from shoving a dildo up my ass.
“I guess I’m not so repulsive after all. I guess you’ve learned how the real world works.” He drank his wine. “I admire your ambition. Not too many women have that.”
I have a lot of ambition—to kill you.
“I’ve considered taking a wife but haven’t found a woman worthy of the position. Maybe I’ve finally found her.” He clinked his glass against mine in a toast.
I drank out of the glass, hoping this was going somewhere I wanted to be. If I were his wife, would he treat me as a slave? Would I be allowed to leave the house on my own? Because then I could definitely escape. “Indeed.”
Chapter Thirteen
Crow
“Now we know where he’s staying.” Cane placed markers on the map. “Two entrances. One in the front, and one in the back. I say we blast the front gate with grenades and hit him hard.”
“You don’t think grenades would be too obvious?”
“How else are we going to get in?”
“How about climbing, fat-ass?” My brother didn’t think anything through. He went for the simplest way, the most destructive way.
“And thirty men are supposed to climb the gate without being noticed?” he asked incredulously. “No. We bomb the gate down, drive in with the cars and take out all the men at the front. That shit will happen so fast they won’t even know what hit them.”
“And it’ll give Bones a chance to run.”
“Not if we get in there immediately.”
I leaned back in the chair and rested my fingertips on my lips. “What if we bomb the entrance just like you said? The guys rush in and take out the guards in the front. But we climb the fence from the side and break in at the exact same moment.”
“Like a diversion?”
“Exactly.”
“Not bad.”
“We’ll snatch the girl and run.”
“What about Bones?”
I stared at him in silence, waiting for elaboration.
“Kill him or what?”
The idea was tempting. After what he did to my family, I wasn’t sure if I could pass up the opportunity. But if he died, that would be too easy. He wouldn’t suffer. He would just get shot in the back of the head. That was too good for him. “No.”
“Really?”
I shook my head. “I want him to worry about his slave every single day. I want him to throw up just from thinking about the horrific things we’re doing to her, the same things he did to Vanessa. I want to ruin his investment, depreciate her so much he won’t even want her back.”
