Page 69 of The Contract

This fresh crimson dripping between my fingers isn’t his.

It’s hers.

Trinity’s.

My sister’s.

It’s a nightmare I can’t escape. A torment my demons conjure relentlessly, forcing me to relive the night I failed her.

I wasn’t fast enough. Wasn’t fucking there when she needed me most.

Now Trinity’s blood stains my conscience—a life sentence of guilt I’ll never outrun.

But if my uncle—or this bastard bleeding by a meathook—thinks I’ll ever let history repeat itself with Pom, they’ve both underestimated just how cutthroat a haunted man can become.

“You can trust me,” he slurs, voice shredded, choking wetly on his own blood.

“Can I?” I ask, detached. Cold. “Prove it. Give me something real—something that shows your allegiance.”

His hesitation is pointless, and I let the silence suffocate him until he scrapes together the strength to speak. “This isn’t about you.”

I roll my sleeves slowly, deliberately, each turn radiating ruthless calm. Just me, him, and four unforgiving concrete walls. “Then who the fuck is it about?”

A twisted, blood-smeared grin carves across his ruined face—grotesque, sickly amused. Victorious. “Zver.”

Using the cattle prod—now cold—I tip his chin upward, forcing his destroyed gaze to mine. One swollen slit meets my stare. “Explain.”

“I was there that night—the night she was attacked. I saw Zver. Fucker has a hard-on ten miles long for your girl.” He wheezes, blood bubbling through his shattered teeth. “Came charging in like some knight in fucking armor. Killed two of your uncle’s best men for her.” His laughter scrapes like broken glass in his throat. “Now that’s a dog your uncle can train.”

My pulse pounds violently at my temples, deafening, murderous. “How?”

“Take her. Tuck her away. Somewhere overseas. Have her gang raped on command if Zver doesn’t do exactly as he says.” His rough chuckle grows. “Everyone wants a taste of Riley’s cunt.”

Hearing her name drip from his filthy mouth detonates the savage beast. A fury so raw, so primal, so instant—I don’t even attempt restraint.

Fuck strategy.

Fuck consequences.

And fuck him.

I drive the prod deep into his chest, pinning him mercilessly, electricity ripping through flesh and bone. I hold firm until smoke curls dark and acrid in the air, sealing my secrets forever in blistered, blackened silence.

No one threatens what’s mine and lives.

CHAPTER 21

Dante

By the time I stumble into the penthouse, every muscle screams, every nerve wound tighter than a noose around a traitor’s neck.

Thirty-five goddamn hours without sleep, and logic says I should be dead on my feet.

But logic went out the fucking window the moment Riley Mullvain stormed into my life.

Pom.

My obsession.

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