Page 44 of The Taken Duet


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As the car inches up the pavement and the mansion comes into view, I can’t help the excitement at finally getting my revenge on the man who helped my father all these years. And at finding the girl who stole my heart without even knowing it.

Thanos will meet his maker tonight. He needs to pay for his sins. I look forward to driving a blade through his chest, twisting it while his blood seeps from the wound.

It’s been a while since I’ve been around him. Most of the months since Malcolm died, I’ve avoided him. The others we took down dealt in drugs, weapons, but Thanos is special. He buys young girls and boys — and I mean young — for pleasure. He uses them, breaks them, then discards them like damaged toys. I know, because I’ve seen it.

When I exit the car, I stroll toward the door I hope doesn’t open, but I know it will. He wants my money. He promised to sell me the doll he’s currently playing with in order for me to extract the information he needs from her. Only, he doesn’t realize he’s made a deal with the fucking devil.

Upon reaching the door, I don’t have to knock because it slides open, and on the other side is a woman who must be in her early twenties. She looks as lost as I feel. Her blonde hair is pinned behind her head in a low ponytail. Dressed in a matching, form-fitting top and skirt, I notice how skinny she is, but her tits are spilling from the top of the material. Her big brown eyes are dull, lifeless, as if her soul is dead. She’s a walking shell, and I know exactly why.

“Good evening, sir. May I take—?”

“Show me to the dining room,” I tell her without so much as a greeting. I’m not here for pleasantries. I’m here to extract the girl, kill the asshole, and have River clean up the mess.

The skeletal hostess leads me through the large home and into a room decked out in silver and the finest china. This isn’t who I am, and this asshole knows it. But he’s trying to impress me because he’s under the impression I’ve taken over the organization from my father. Since we’ve kept Malcolm’s death from his associates, telling them that he’s stepped down offered me the opportunity to let them think I’m in charge. He’s attempting to ensure my allegiance to his business. But there’s nothing that could make me want to give this asshole anything.

“Drake Savage.” His gruff tone comes from behind me, and I turn to find Thanos strolling in with a smirk of satisfaction on his face. He’s old, even though his hair is still dark, there’s gray on either side of his face, and I know he’s in his early fifties now.

“William Thanos,” I greet, shaking his hand.

His expression is pleasant, but his eyes conceal hidden truths far too terrifying for anyone to fathom. Something must have happened prior to my arrival. There’s something about him I can’t pinpoint, but I notice the sick satisfaction emanating from him.

“The little toy is getting cleaned up. She was misbehaving, and I had to teach her a lesson,” he informs me, settling himself in the chair at the head of the table.

Bile rises into my throat, burning its way into my mouth, and I have to fight to swallow it down. A waiter with the same lifeless eyes as the hostess enters with a bottle of red wine. I can’t see the label, but he fills my glass, then Thanos’s. With a swift bow, he leaves us.

“And what exactly do you feel is proper training for toys?” I question, lifting the wine to my lips, taking a long gulp. My gaze never leaves the monster that sits on his throne.

“I went easy on her tonight. She threw up on my dick. She has to learn never to do that again. When you take her this evening, I trust she’ll behave.” He chuckles, and it takes all my restraint not to shove the glass in his face and cut him a new fucking hole to spurt shit from.

“I see. And you haven’t thought about giving her a lashing?” I question, playing his game, and I know he’ll fall into my trap. My gaze doesn’t leave his over the rim of the crystal wine glass.

“Oh, she’s had plenty of those. Tonight, though, I wanted to ensure her porcelain skin is unmarked. You are welcome to inspect her. I’m intrigued to see your methods.”

Of course, you are.

“I look forward to meeting this beauty you’ve been telling me about,” I say. The doors slide open, causing me to shut my mouth. Two staff members walk in — both dressed in black slacks and white shirts — a boy and girl, who can’t be older than sixteen.

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