Page 56 of Monsters Carve Thrones
The smirk slipped for a second, then came back sharper. “You’re not the only woman he’s chained to his bed before.”
I tilted my head. “What happened to them?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, annoyed. “He’s a sick fuck, my boss. A couple of them, he strangled while having his way with them. Others, he just killed them. I’ve had to clean up a lot of blood. Some died right where you’re sitting.”
My teeth gnashed together. Great. Now I had to wonder if he was going to kill me every time he choked me during sex.
“You’re not special, sweetheart. You’re just another plaything with an expiration date. Once he’s bored of you…” She shrugged. “Well. Let’s just say, I hope you like being disposable.”
I leaned forward, chains clinking as I moved, my voice low and steady. “You can enjoy the view while you can, Riley. Because when I get out of here…” I smiled, just enough to make her blink. “I’ll gut you and force your intestines down your fucking throat.”
She hesitated. It was just a flicker, but I saw how her fingers twitched near her hip. The way her lips parted, then snapped closed.
Then she laughed. “Oh, you’re funny. Delusional, but funny.” She turned and sauntered back toward the door. “Breakfast will be cold spaghetti again. And I wouldn’t take too long eating it. You’ve got another busy day ahead.”
“I’m not kidding, you know,” I whispered.
She paused at the door, obviously unnerved by the tone in my voice. “Why the guts?”
I grinned, throwing all of my rage behind it. “Because, Riley, why should you be allowed to keep the guts you don’t use?”
Her face scrunched in immediate irritation.
“I doubt you’d ever stand up for yourself. You’re Waylon’s bitch just as much as me.”
She almost looked like she was going to say something else, but she sighed. The door slammed behind her. I stared at the space she’d left behind, heart pounding, jaw clenched. Let them fuckers underestimate me. Because when the tables turned, I’d make damn sure they regretted every bruise, every insult, every moment they thought I was helpless.
They’d learn. One by one.
And when Rafe came for me, there’d be a pile of bodies waiting.
***
The sound of keys turning in the lock made my stomach clench, but I didn’t flinch. I sat on the edge of the bed, my wrists still raw from the cuffs. I hadn’t touched the cold spaghetti that bitch had left behind.
He stood in the doorway like a king in his castle–tall, broad, dressed in an immaculate dark suit that looked like it had been tailored to his violence. His hair was swept back in a ponytail, not a strand out of place, and his expression was psychotically detached.
Waylon walked forward, stopping in front of me.
I met his gaze without looking away.
“Stand,” he said.
I didn’t move.
“Now,” he reached forward and snatched me around my throat.
I inhaled sharply, consciously trying to keep my expression neutral. I didn’t want him to see the fear, even if I felt it vibrating through my body. The truth was...Iwasa little scared. Mainly, that I’d never get to see Rafe again. Or Laura.
***
The chains clinked with every step they forced me to take. Two guards had unlatched the cuffs from the bedpost but left them tight around my wrists. I closed my eyes as they fastened a leather collar around my throat and attached a fucking leash to it. The leather bit into my skin as they dragged me down a long, narrow corridor, the polished wood floors far too elegant for what was happening here. A manor. A gilded fucking cage. And Waylon was the monster hiding behind its velvet curtains.
I kept my eyes open, memorizing every turn, door, and face. They led me into a large sitting room with tall windows, where sunlight spilled through. A fireplace crackled quietly, yet the opulence made my stomach turn.
Waylon went over and sat in an armchair. Legs crossed. A predator at rest. “So, sunshine,” he said, his smile casual, cold. “Sleep well?”
I didn’t respond. One of the guards shoved me forward until I stumbled.
