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I tamped down my possessive rage, bit back the furious declaration that she belonged to me, not him.
That was exactly what he wanted from me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
His brows rose. “Aren’t you interested in my idea? If you’re not making headway, I’m happy to work on her myself.”
“I won’t let you mutilate her,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
A slow, icy grin spread over his face. “I have no intention of cutting her up,” he said in a soothing tone, as though trying to placate me. “I’m going to dose her with Bliss.”
“You won’t touch her,” I growled and took a step toward him. I felt the guards shadow my movement, and I forced myself to freeze before I did something stupid. If Cristian managed to neutralize me, I couldn’t protect Samantha.
His smile curved with malice. “You misunderstand me. I have no intention of touching her. The opposite, in fact. I’ll chain her down, dose her with Bliss, and watch her scream and beg for me to fuck her. Have you ever seen what the drug does when the user doesn’t get release? I’ve broken in a few of my more reluctant whores with one dose. They’ll do anything to avoid experiencing that pain again. And I don’t even have to bring out my knife. Not a drop of blood spilled or a single scar left behind.”
Nausea curled up my throat as he spoke. I swallowed it down and clenched my jaw to hold in my tirade. Cristian was toying with me. He didn’t intend to follow through.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t take three weeks for Samantha to break under that kind of pressure. The only complication is that might shatter her mind completely, and then, she wouldn’t be useful to me. So, little brother. I’ll leave her with you for a while longer, until she’s ready to work for me. I need her brain intact when you give her back to me.”
“Samantha belongs to me,” I snarled, my fingers curling to fists at my sides. “I’m keeping her.”
Cristian held up his hands in a false show of contrition. “Fine. Keep her. She’s not much to look at, so if you want to fuck her, that’s fine with me. I know you don’t have many other options, and it’s not like she can say no.” He smirked as his gaze lingered on my ruined face.
I had to leave before I tried to tear him apart. I knew I was physically capable of it. My brother wasn’t a small man, but I was much bigger.
But I knew better than to challenge him. If I did, he’d find a way to punish me, and I’d already shown my hand when it came to my obsession with Samantha. If Cristian wanted to hurt me, he’d use her to do it.
“Message received,” I ground out. “You said three weeks. She’ll be ready.”
His smirk remained fixed in place, his black eyes glittering under the spare yellow lightbulb. “I think you understand what will happen to her if she’s not. You can go.”
I turned an
d walked stiffly back to the elevator, trying not to breathe in the stench that surrounded me. My senses were on high alert, and everything about this room made me want to vomit. Images of my sweet Samantha strung up for my brother’s sadistic torment flickered at the edges of my mind. I tried to shove them away, but they began to blend with my own memories of blood and screams and shame.
As soon as I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, I sucked in a deep breath. I tasted a coppery tang on my tongue, and I realized I’d bitten the inside of my cheek.
I shook my head to clear away the memories and focused on thoughts of Samantha.
Yes, she was what I needed right now. I wanted to make her scream for me. Not my brother.
She would tremble and cry. Her pale skin would turn red under my whip.
The elevator finally stopped, granting me entry to my penthouse. I stormed into the bedroom, but she didn’t so much as glance up from her graphic novel.
I didn’t hesitate to harness her full attention.
I hooked my fingers through the back of her collar, drawing it tight against her throat as I gripped it at her nape.
“Andrés,” she gasped, jerking in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to explain myself to my fucktoy. Instead, I focused on unlocking the chain at the front of her collar. When she was free, I tossed her over my shoulder.
“Put me down!” The fact that she thought she could still make demands just proved how poorly I’d been handling her. I’d indulged in a fantasy where I could have all of her, not just a devoted slave. It was past time that she learned her role in this relationship. Her obedience to my will was all that would save her from my brother.
I slapped her thigh with more force than usual, ignoring her indignant squeal as I carried her into the playroom.
She squirmed in my hold. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, her voice high with mounting fear.
Good. I wanted her fear. I wanted her tears.
