Page 41 of Destruction

Shit. My Family must be going crazy. We pay off the LEOs for a fucking reason. None of this should be happening.

I switch my attention back to him, yawning as if the news isn’t disturbing. “Sounds boring.”

Cursing, the man slaps his hands on the metal desk, leaning forward into my personal space. I refuse to lean back, or to give him the satisfaction of thinking he's throwing me off. Fuck that shit.

He hits the desk again with his right hand, and this time, I do roll my eyes. Fucking temper tantrum. Really? I expect better from a kidnapper.

“I’m going to destroy everything you’ve built. Your so-called precious family will pay for your sins. Do you want to know why?”

“Not really. I mean, I’m sure you’ll be doing the whole evil monologue at some point. I’ll pretend to listen, if that’s what you want.”

He pushes off from the table, disgust marring his features. “I am not the villain. I’m the avenging angel. I will rid this city of crime and be celebrated.”

“Wow. You have a complex, don’t you? Avenging angel? Really?” I snort at the ridiculousness. “And you think getting rid of my Family and the Amatos will make the city crime free? You’re delusional. If anything, we keep the crime in check. Nobody messes with our territories. But if you want true lawlessness, proceed at your own risk. Not that you’d ever succeed.”

“Fine. I won’t tell you, if that’s what you want. Instead, I’ll let you ponder while I make you suffer.” He turns toward the door, knocking on it. At the signal, two more men enter, but these ones are wearing masks. Pussies. Both of them. If you’re going to be part of criminal activity, fucking own it.

The door doesn’t close, and the sound of screaming echoes down the hallway. The man grins evilly at me. “Hear that? That’s your buddy. Sounds like he’s enjoying what you’ll be getting.”

I bark out a laugh. “Are you fucking for real? That’s not Cristian. Or if it is, it’s playing on a loop. Nothing you can do would cause that continuous screaming. Hell, you could be tearing him apart piece by piece and he wouldn’t give you that. You don’t have a fucking clue the games he plays and his strength.”

His face flushes an even deeper red than before. It verges on purple, and his hands curl into tight fists. “You think you’ll be any different?”

I notice he sidesteps my response, and this time I snort. “I’m sure. But hey, if you want to test our strength, why don’t you joinme here? We can both have fun, and we’ll see which one of us screams the most.”

The man whispers something to one of the goons before whirling out of the room, slamming the door shut. The goon laughs darkly, coating the room in tension. Silence is always more effective than being talked at continuously. I have a feeling this shit isn’t going to be that much fun.

The goon pulls out a knife, and I almost grimace. I’m not like Cristian, blood play really isn't my kink. But, whatever. They’re not going to get the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.

I watch him warily and almost sigh in resignation when he goes straight for my hand. I’m going to lose a finger, I know it. And Lio will be pissed. Motherfucker better hope I don’t get a knife when I leave, because he’ll lose way more than a finger. Maybe cutting off their dicks would be good. Then I can make them choke on them.

I grit my teeth, refusing to scream when he brings the knife down on my right pointer finger. Mother. Fucker. I don’t glance down, keeping my eyes on the goon who seems disappointed by my lack of reaction. He growls and goes for another, but the other goon stops the man’s arm as it moves in a downward arc.

For a moment, I think I’m escaping from more, but then the second goon brings out a knife of his own.Fuck, leave my hands alone. I have punishments to dole out, and would prefer to keep my fucking fingers.

I glare at the goon, almost daring him to continue. When he grins at me, I narrow my eyes. There’s something familiar about him, even through the mask.

Cocking my head slightly, I try to think where I recognize him from. I don’t get much of a chance to think about it before the man rips my dress shirt to shreds, not being careful about nicking my skin. That’s a fucking expensive shirt, worth far more than him, I imagine.

I’m disgusted by their uncouthness. I wrinkle my nose at them, ignoring the throbbing in what’s left of my finger. Hopefully, they'll at least stop the bleeding soon. Fuckers are way too uneducated about torture. Sloppy.

I’m not sure how long it lasts, as they take turns slicing at my skin, from long slices to nicks. I can’t find a pattern, so I’m stuck on the edge of waiting. It’s a dangerous dance.

They’re trying to rip a scream from me, and I’m trying to refuse. One of us will win out. I can only hope they tire first, as they’re showing signs of exhaustion from the constant movement around me.

“Fuck it,” one of the goons mutters from behind me, and red hot agony spears through my shoulder. I finally scream and their laughter fills the room.

I fight to stay upright, but between the finger wound, the slicing, and now the fucking stabbing, the room begins to spin.Fuck.I hope Cristian held on for longer.

I start to slip into inky darkness, slumping forward. I’m down, but not out. I shake my head, trying to clear my vision, but when the knife is yanked out, I can’t hold it back anymore, and the world goes dark.

“Where’s Jude?” Benjamin asks as I usher him into the training room.

“With his physical therapist. He’ll join us before we head to the torture chamber for round two of that training. For now, I need to test your hand-to-hand readiness. I know where Jude stands, so his presence is unnecessary. Unless you want an audience to your humiliation?”

Not that I tell him, but he’ll get one anyway. The cameras in here are rarely turned on, and even then, the footage isn’t regularly monitored, unless we have a reason to look.

What I won’t tell Benjamin isheis the reason my Tesoro will be keeping a close eye on all the training rooms, both here at the house and in my training facilities.

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