Page 156 of Dance of Madness

“People were hurt!” she snaps.

“Who.”

Her eyes flicker side to side.

“Is it that you don’t know because no one ever told you their names?” My eyes burn into her. “Or becauseit didn’t happen?”

Her lips curl. “Fuck. You. There are a hundred men who work for my father in this city alone. I can’t?—”

“Be expected to know who they are?” I snort. “Spoken like a true princess in her ivory tower. I know the name ofevery single manwho works for me,” I growl. “I know who they sleep next to. I know theirchildren’snames.”

She purses her lips, throat bobbing.

“My father wasn’t involved with any of it,” she says quietly.

I roll my eyes. “Is this where you tell me you were talking to some tech bullshit hologram on that video?”

“My father was undergoing heavy treatment for cancer when your family was attacked,” Milena says evenly. “He was pumped so full of chemo that he was barely conscious.”

“How tragic.”

“Asshole,” she fires back. Her eyes drop to the knife in my hand again. “Is this the part where you skin me alive?”

“Maybe I use it to cut that fucking dress off you, put you on your knees, and rail your slutty cunt until you understand just howfuckedyou are,princess,” I snarl.

Milena’s face goes red. Her mouth falls open, eyes widening.

Fuck, that dress iswaytoo transparent right now.

It’s still clinging to her every curve, molding to her pert tits, to her dancer's hips and ass. I can see the pale pink of her nipples, tight under the thin fabric. The valley between her thighs as the dress clings to it.

She takes a shaky breath, her lip catching between her teeth. Then her gaze drops down to herself, her cheeks heating before she slowly looks back up at me.

“That what you came down here for?” she spits. “A power trip? Tooglethe girl you locked in a fucking cage? Want me to dance around and fuckingstripfor you, asshole?”

I peer at her darkly. “A, watch the fucking tone. And B,maybe.”

She swallows heavily, stiffening.

I fold the knife up, sliding it back into my pocket. When I start to walk toward her, her breath catches sharply. A small sound escapes her lips as she backs away from me, and I can’t tell if the sound pisses me off or turns me the fuck on.

I stop right in front of her, looming over her petite frame as my eyes bore into hers. She trembles, but her chin still juts defiantly as she stands proud, her posture saying “fuck you” even though she’s shaking.

“This your thing, Nero?” she says quietly. “Locking girls up? Waking them up with water poured over them like some fucked-up?—”

She whimpers—whimpers—when my hand juts out and wraps around her throat.

“I saidwatch. The. Fucking. Tone,” I snarl.

Her throat works against my palm, her pulse a staccato beat against my fingers.

“Or what,” she croaks. “You’ll put me in cage?”

A low, dark laugh rumbles in my chest. “You’re just hell bent on pushing me until I break, aren’t you? You think this is a stupid fuckinggame, Milena?”

She shivers. “I think this is about you not having the control over me you thought you would when you locked me in this fucking?—”

Her eyes bulge wide, her breath gasping as my hand slides off of her throat, pushes up her jaw, and then suddenly wraps her ponytail in a fist.

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