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“No, I’m—”Christy.
“Zero,” Konrad interjects, preventing me from making a mistake. I’m not sure why he stops me saying my name, given he seemed to thoroughly enjoy punishing me earlier, but he does. Instead he turns his attention to Twelve, his eyes narrowing. “What are you wearing?”
“This old thing,” she says, her hands falling to the dress as she lifts it, dropping her gaze coyly. She knows full well he wasn’t talking about the dress but the very expensive looking item of jewellery around her neck.
Leon snorts and Jakub scowls, but it’s Konrad who takes action. He stands abruptly, grabs her by the hair and forces her face down against the table. I flinch, feeling her warm breath against my hip. I move to shuffle away, but Konrad snarls.
“Stay the fuck where you are,” he insists, looking at me but not letting go of Twelve.
She shifts against the table, her hip pressing back against his cock, a smile spreading across her face as she side-eyes me. “He’s mine,” she bites out.
My mouth falls open in shock at her show of possessiveness over a man who is treating her with such brutality. Why in the world would she think I want this, any of this? I’m a victim, not a threat.
Konrad growls, his fingers yanking at the choker at her neck. He pulls it free, shoving it into Jakub’s hand, then presses the length of his body against hers, his mouth against her ear. “How many times do I need to tell you, Twelve, you are no more mine, than I am yours.Youbelong to The Menagerie, to any one of our clients who pays handsomely to fuck that desperate cunt. This is the last time I shall tell you this. Next time you need reminding of your place, it won’t be a week in my dungeons that you’ll endure,” he warns, lifting his gaze to meet Jakub, who nods his head, “But a night in the forest with Jakub.”
Twelve sucks in a shocked breath, her passion and fire put out by the threat. Why is a night in the forest with Jakub scarier than a week in the dungeons with Konrad?
“No, I didn’t mean it...” Her voice trails off as Konrad’s hold tightens. A look passes between him and Jakub.
“You didn’t mean to steal what belongs to me?” Jakub asks, taking Konrad’s place behind her. His fingers grasp the back of her head, as he pulls her upright against him. The room quietens, the change in atmosphere darkening. Jakub holds his hand out to Konrad, who places his flick knife in his palm before pressing the edge against her throat. She whimpers, her dark eyes somehow fixed on me. For a moment, I watch in sick fascination, unable to move, afraid to gain his attention and feel his wrath.
“Tell our new acquisition what rule you’ve broken, Twelve?” he asks her, his voice controlled, sinister in a way that makes my skin grow cold.
“I shall not covet what isn’t mine and never will be.”
“That’s right,” Jakub says. “What else?”
“To never steal from my Masters.”
“Then tell me now why I shouldn’t cut your throat and let you bleed out for breaking those rules…” Jakub asks, pressing his lips against her cheek, whilst the tip of the blade nicks the olive skin of her throat.
“One of the staff forgot to close the cabinet after cleaning. I saw it and—”
“Thought you’d take it?” he sneers, pressing the knife in further.
Her eyes widen in fear, her nostrils flaring as she realises her mistake. My wariness of her is replaced with pity. “Don’t!” I say, unable to help myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Six snap her attention to me. She swallows hard.
Jakub narrows his eyes at me, but pulls back the blade at Twelve’s throat. “Are you daring to tell me what to do?” he asks, his attention focused on me now.
“She’s scared,” I say.
“She has every reason to be,” Konrad adds, though I refuse to take my eyes off Jakub.
“I justmissyou—” Twelve mumbles, a silvery tear leaking from her eyes and sliding down her nose. If this isn’t Stockholm syndrome, I don’t know what is.
“Here’s the thing, Twelve, I don’t miss you, or wantyoufor that matter,” Konrad snarls. “Get out of my fucking sight!”
The relief I feel is palpable. If she isn’t here, then she’s safe. At least for now. Of course it was foolish to believe The Masks would let this go so easily. What happens next makes my stomach fold in on itself.
“No,” Jakub snaps, causing Twelve to wobble on her feet and look between the two men. “This is a punishable offence. Renard!” he commands, folding away the knife and handing it back to Konrad.
“Yes, Sir?” Renard responds, appearing out of nowhere like an apparition.
“Wheel in the Stocks and bring me the Cat-o'-nine-tails.”
Stocks? Cat-o'-nine-tails? Jesus Christ.
“Surely, you’re not going to…?” My question trails off as I see the look of sheer malevolence in Jakub’s eyes. Konrad and Leon are no different.
