Page 62 of Filthiest Of Them All

Omen smiles proudly and nods. “Leadership looks good on you.” I feel heat creeping into my cheeks.

“You can’t come with us.” I glare at Carnage.

“Why the hell not?”

“Do you even know how to fight?” he fires back.

I smirk. “I was raised in the system, of course I know how to fight, and I plan to use all the skills I have learned throughout my life to murder your cunt of a sister, who Omen should have absorbed in the womb.”

Alexander

There’s beauty in torture.

To do what I do you have to have a certain artistry to yourself, carving the flesh from a body is a skill you master over time. If I ever had to give up doing what I do, I would become a mortician. Death fascinates me. It’s not something that can be avoided. Death is inevitable, that's why life is so precious and revered because you only live once.

This stupid bitch thinks chaining me up in the very room I used to extract information from many men will have me crumbling and begging for mercy. I’ll never beg. Pleading for my life is something I’ll never do. Pain is but a fleeting moment and I’ve survived hell. Whatever she or those fucking idiot twins have planned won’t break me. Even if they do succeed in killing me, their brothers will come after them and finish the job I failed to complete.

I know the game she’s playing. She tried to get into my head when she held a gun to Omen’s head and said I either come with her willingly or she’ll kill them. I agreed without complaint, because one life as opposed to five is not worth it. My life doesn’t mean more than theirs. On the plane she had me chained and fucking cuffed to the seat with a gag in my mouth. The dirty fucking rat called Tatum beside me and had it on speaker. Just the sound of her voice calmed the wild rage festering inside me. The way Tate fought back without breaking down and threatening Desire made me hard, but when she said she loved me too, that shit solidified something inside me. It was like something inside me revived and for the first time in years, I could breathe without pain.

Desire saw it in my eyes. She knew I would never come back to her or even work for her again. Yes, I fucked her but I never felt anything romantic toward the twisted bitch. Desire is the type of woman to jump from bed to bed if it meant gaining more power. As soon as I found out she was fucking her way through her father’s men, I stopped sticking my dick in her washed up cum dumpster. The second we landed in Chicago, she had her men bring me straight here. From the hunger pains and how thirsty I am I would say I’ve been chained in here for at least two or three days. I can’t feel my arms, they went dead hours after they were chained above my head. My ankles are cuffed, my shirt and pants were cut off, leaving me in my boxers.

They cranked up the AC in here and have blasted some heavy metal shit nonstop to try and get me to lose my shit and go a little insane, but their methods are pitiful and fucking pointless. To truly break someone, you need to find what they care about most and take that away from them, then break their bodies. Induce as much pain as you can while never giving into their pleas. The tactics they are using are childish and half assed, and honestly, I’m offended. When you have someone like me in your midst, you pull out all the stops and hold nothing back.

When the music finally stops my ears ring and for a good few minutes I’m unable to hear anything except for the ghost of the music that has been playing nonstop. I don’t show any signs of relief or even change my breathing because I know they are watching, they’re trying to figure out what my breaking point is. They’ll never find it because she’s already dead. They have no leverage on me. The AC is the next thing to go. I fight not to smirk because this shit is hilarious. Desire tried to get me to train a few of her men in my artistry but I refused. This isn’t something that can just be taught, there is a hunger and a need that you have to have before you can even stomach the thought of doing what I do. If this is the best she’s got, then I’m gonna die of boredom.

I hear the lock on the door turn but I keep my head down and remain still. When it opens and I hear heels clicking against the concrete floor, I fight back my eye roll. Not wanting to give the bitch the upper hand, I speak before she does.

“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Desire. I was in the middle of daydreaming about how you’ll die slowly and you ruined the moment by coming in here.” My voice is scratchy and my throat is drier than a nun’s pussy, but I don’t let any of that show.

I grind my teeth when she grabs my chin and digs her nails into my flesh, forcing my head up to meet her gaze. Her blues don’t offer the solace that Tatum's do. Desire’s shine with nothing except for greed, anger and jealousy. Clearly, Tate’s comment is still bristling inside her and she hates knowing that some blonde haired, blue-eyed woman has come into my life without meaning to and stole the one thing she could never have, my heart.

“You are going to regret ever leaving me and choosing that little slut.” Malice is thick in her tone. I fight back the urge to headbutt her for speaking about Tate like that. I have never killed a woman and technically, I don’t class Desire as one because she’s had enough dicks inside her to be classed as one of the boys.

“There was never a choice, because you were never an option for me,” I clap back. Her nails pierce my flesh. The sting of pain just brings a smile to my face, knowing I’m the one that is chained but I’m getting to her.

“I’ve always been out of your league,” she sneers. “You are going to scream for me and beg for mercy but you’ll never receive it. I warned you what would happen if you defied me.”

“You keep spitting that shit and you may just believe it yourself.” Her eyes burn with anger at my reply. “You knew I was running game and turned a blind eye until I brought Tatum in. This is why you were never meant to lead the family, you think with your pussy not your head.” She grips my cock with her free hand and squeezes. I grind my teeth so fucking hard I swear I heard them crack. When the scornful cunt twists her wrist, a growl filled with pain escapes me which makes her smile. When the cunt begins to stroke me, that’s when I start thrashing against my restraints to escape her unwanted touch. I will my cock to remain flaccid and not give this cum guzzling bitch the satisfaction of getting me hard.

“Ma’am, you have to see this.” Desire pouts and winks smugly. My chest is rising and falling in quick pants. I flick my gaze toward the door to see it’s Devon, the little fuck just earned his and his brothers freedom for barging in here. He glances at me briefly and I give him a subtle nod in thanks.

“What is it?’ she bites out, then releases her hold on me. I sag in my chains, relieved to have her touch vanish from my body.

“A blockage has been formed on the street.” Desire frowns.

“Who the fuck is it?” she snaps.

Devon glances at me for a second before looking back at her. “We believe it's the Denver Kings,” he says warily.

Desire grinds her teeth and it’s easy to see that she’s pissed off Devon interrupted us. “Get rid of them.” Devon opens his mouth to try to speak, but she waves him off. He looks reluctant to leave but he knows if he questions her, she’ll kill him and he’ll be no good to me dead. When Devon closes the door behind him, Desire moves across the room and drops down into the metal seat against the wall. She crosses one leg over the other and smiles. But there is a sinister edge to that look that puts me on edge.

“You have the wolves howling at your gates, yet you sit here smiling like you’ve won the war,” I taunt.

She lulls her head side to side, never dropping that smile. “I don’t need to deal with those idiot brothers of mine. My men will squash them or capture them and bring them here to join you. Either way, I win.”

I scoff. “Do us both a favor and get the fuck on with your pathetic attempt at torture so I can go back to daydreaming about your death.”

Laughter erupts from her, the sound reminding me of nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, Alex. You know I could never hurt you,” she purrs.

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