Page 1 of Brutal Queen

PART THREE

“Grief is the price we pay for love.”

Queen Elizabeth II

This book continues from the day after the

end of Broken Princess…

CHAPTER ONE

ENZO

My chains rattle against the cage as I rouse myself from his latest onslaught. There’s only so much I can take before the agony steals my consciousness. Eventually, the day will come when my body concedes defeat and I don’t wake up again. I’m stuck in a nightmarish reality. A cycle of endless torture. But at least it’s me here and nother.

Every second of agony is worth it.

I have no idea how long I’ve been here. There are no windows to see the change from day to night, no clock to track the hours ticking by. My only marker for the passage of time is Max De Luca. Time is relative, and he is my measure. He’s either here or he’s not.

The door at the top of the stairs opens with a creak, one that’s embedded in my memory, and as always, is followed by Max’s heavy footfalls on the basement staircase. I detest the clack of his heels as they hit the steps. When I get out of here,every dress shoe I own is being burned. They’re always the first part of him I see when he comes to me, and the last thing before my head tips forward as I pass out.

Something is different today though. He doesn’t come to my cage to begin his game. Instead, he's pacing back and forth muttering, working himself up into a rage, swinging a large hessian sack. Suddenly, he turns and levels the full force of his fury at me.

“You’re the one who will pay for this, you know,” Max spits with a venom I’ve rarely heard in his tone. He lifts the sack and shakes it at me, letting me see that the bottom is soaked in blood, which is dripping on the floor, leaving a trail in his wake.

“What did she do this time?” I can’t disguise my smug grin, unable to suppress my continued pride in Aurora’s actions since the assault on the De Luca compound.

“Maybe I’ll do to you what she’s been doing to my men,” he replies, before turning the sack over and emptying it. I jump back as much as my restraints allow to avoid the splatter as the contents fall out. What looks like three hands, a couple of feet and half a dozen ears tumble and roll at his feet before coming to a stop. He tosses the sack to the floor and clenches his fists as he tries to regulate his response.

I’m quite keen to keep everything attached, so I stay quiet. There’s no point in antagonising him further whenmia guerrierottais doing a spectacular job of it on her own. Besides, I need to stay alive if I want to get out of here, but with every visit from Max, my hope fades. He’s the only one who knows I'm still alive and if she keeps pushing him, there’s every chance he’ll kill me just so he can send her my body in pieces.

At least that’s what he keeps threatening to do.

Max stalks forward and grips the bars of the cage with both hands. “You may be a half-decent substitute toy, but you don’thold a candle to her. I think it’s time she found out who pays the price for her petulance.”

He turns and heads to the back wall, where he starts pulling items off the rack. From Aurora’s descriptions, I’ve known exactly where I was from the moment I opened my eyes after the shootout at the compound. This is Max De Luca’s basement. Every day I wake up in Aurora’s former living hell. And every day that thought reminds me that she survived this, so I can too.

This room is like she said, a darker, less well-lit version of Nico’s interrogation room, with the addition of a small iron cage cell in one corner. One I spend most of my time in, chained to the wall by my ankles and wrists. It’s small, and I’m too tall for it, which rips my heart out every time I have to stoop down, because I know he had it made for her.

He sedates me when he moves me from the cage toplaywith me as he puts it, and no matter how hard I try, I’m never alert enough to overpower him.

Max seizes the end of the chain attached to my right wrist and yanks hard, pulling me flush with the bars. The familiar prick of the needle in my bicep starts me on my countdown to grogginess. I hate this next part.

He leans against the outside of the cage and waits for me to slump forward before swinging the door open and unlocking the iron cuffs. In this state, I’m barely conscious and highly malleable. Grasping me by the hair, he drags me across the room and throws me towards the steel gurney. I lose my footing, my hips connecting with the edge and I’m pitched forward, the counter top knocking the wind out of me. Before I can catch my breath, he’s hoisting me by the ankles to lay me flat on the surgical table, ensuring I’m spreadeagled and strapped down.

Fuck. It’s going to be one ofthosedays. I hate it when he plays the mad scientist.

The last thing I see before my eyes close is Max retrieving a tripod and fixing a camera to the top of it, angling it down towards my splayed body.

Huh. That’s new.

CHAPTER TWO

AURORA

There’s a brief moment of agony every morning when I wake. Those seconds when I’m ripped from sleep by haunting images of Enzo’s last moments. Where I’m overwhelmed by crippling sorrow and the knowledge that I failed him.

And then I open my eyes and see my reasons for living.

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