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She laughs, but it’s not the amused, happy kind. It’s full of pain and a lifetime of disappointment.
“You really don’t have a clue, do you? Living up here in your corrupt manor, looking down on all the little people like some fucked-up king. You don’t know what it’s like down there for the locals. For the young girls. The kids. The women who have everything ripped away from them because men like you think they’re God’s gift to the planet and are owed everything their sick and twisted hearts desire.
“You’re all disgusting, corrupt, sick bastards.”
“All?” I ask, lifting a brow.
Her lips snap closed as she hears my unspoken words.
“Fine. Not all.”
“Talk to me about him, Pet,” I encourage softly.
She was so close to giving me more before those prawns put an end to our evening, andI’m more than ready to revisit it.
“What do you want to hear? That’s he’s ten times the man you are? That he actually has a heart, and some morals, and some common decency? That despite having initiated into one of the most corrupt and despicable gangs in this country, he’s still a nice person.”
“Wow, say it as it is. Don’t hold back,” I mutter, amused by her word vomit.
“After everything we’ve been through, hardly.” She scoffs.
“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, Pet. But I’m not my father.”
“Thank fuck,” she mutters. “Just because you’re different, it doesn’t mean you’re any better, does it?”
“I’d like to fucking think so.” I scoff before sipping my coffee.
“Having experienced you at your worst, I’d say not.”
My eyes widen as the steaming hot liquid gold coats my tongue, settling just a little of the unease inside me.
“My worst? Oh, Pet. You most certainly haven’t seen that. Yet,” I add for fun. She doesn’t look shocked by my words.
She’s taunting me.
I’ve given her freedom and now she’s the one trying to play me.
Spreading my legs wider, I sit back into the couch, getting comfortable.
Her assessing eyes roam over my body.
“See something you like, Pet?” Her eyes dart to mine at my taunt.
“No. You’re a little bit too bitter and toxic for my taste,” she seethes.
“It would serve you well not to lie to me,” I warn.
“Why? What are you going to do? Lock me up in your torture chamber again? Starve me? Make me freeze to death.”
“You think I’d let you take an easy way out like that? I thought you had me all figured out. Maybe it’s all an act.”
She smirks, holding my eyes, proving to me, once again, that she’s not scared of me in any way.
“Maybe it is. I guess you’ll never know.”
My own smirk grows to match hers.
“I think we both know that I will. Now, shall we continue where we left off the other night?”
