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Blake crouches on the floor beside me. Now I’ve got a direct line of sight to him. So innocent. So innocuous.
Exactly like his uncle in that regard.
The type of man you generally skip over if you see him in the crowd is always the most dangerous. Aren’t they? It’s what they have in common, and now that I know about their familial ties, the resemblance is there. The shape of the nose, the arch of their brows.
It’s been right in front of my face this entire time.
Blake’s glasses are askew, and damn him, but he’s still got the boyish charm going on, even with the weapon in his hand dripping my blood everywhere. He brings it down to my thigh and slices it down again.
“This is going to scar,” he tells me conversationally. “Not like there's ever a choice when it comes to knife play. You do it for the rush, to feel alive. You live with the scars, and you remember every slice like it’s a step on the stairway to paradise.”
He closes his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose until his nostrils flare.
“Or you do it because you’re a sadistic fuck.” I’ve got my back teeth clenched hard enough to crack a few crowns. I struggle against the ropes and only manage to send the knife deeper into my skin.
The pain is blinding white, and for a second, I stop breathing.
“You know we’d be great together, Aria. You’re too scared to admit it to yourself,” Blake says. “We’ve both had to work hard to get where we are. We’re both very good with computers, our skills unmatched. Broderick wanted us separate, wanted to keep his little sex toy all to himself. None of it matters now.”
I’m losing it, fast. Black spots dance in front of my vision as Blake works the knife across my hip and thigh.
At his words, I manage to pull it together long enough to spit in his face. “I’m never going to sleep with you.”
“I think you will.” He doesn’t stop with the knife, and there’s a smile on his face. He likes hurting me. He’s getting off on it.
Without the angle of his knees hiding his dick, I’d surely be able to see his erection.
The spit doesn’t bother him, either, decorating the side of his neck and trailing slowly down.
“I think, once I break you, you’re going to beg me to suck my cock. The same way you used to beg my uncle.” He’s more pleased with the blood than he is with the thought of rape.
I shake my head, and he pauses the knife. Waiting for my response.
I won’t give him one.
“You loved him the same way I did,” Blake continues. As if it makes any bit of difference.
“He’s fucked with all of our heads. Maybe we can work together to be something better. Maybe we can take the Syndicate in a different direction.”
“If you do decide to work with me, then we’re doing it my way. I guess we’ll have to see what kind of tune you sing after a few days.”
The tears are freefalling now, and Blake stops the descent of the knife toward my knee, wiping the bloodied blade on his pant leg before he rises.
“What do you mean, your way?”
“I mean, the Syndicate is mine to control now that my uncle is dead. No matter what you’ve done to try and undermine, there have always been systems in place for every eventuality. I’ll lead us into the new age. A different city, stronger players… It’s Operation Albatross, Aria. It means thatI’mthe new Broderick Stevens, and I’m not going to let you fuck me over the way you did my uncle.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
aria
Days.
Blake’s had me trapped in my apartment for days.
The first few hours, I refused any food or water he tried to give me. Refused even his offer to hold me over the toilet so I could take a piss. Let him clean up the mess since he’s got to be the big man.
The next Broderick Stevens.
