Page 86 of Nemesync
He hesitated for a moment before attempting a dismissive chuckle. “Can’t say I recall every woman’s face from every party,” he replied.
My expression tightened, and my hand subtly reached for the concealed knife beneath my skirt, “You took everything from her and me that night without even remembering my face or her name? That’s not cool Alonzo, I’m offended.”
The man’s façade crumbled as realization dawned.
It’s fear I see in the same eyes that haunted my life. And it felt…good.
“My Luna was beautiful. She had the kind of face you could never forget. But I suppose kidnapping and assaulting so many girls might be too much for that stupid head of yours to remember the names.”
I circled him playing with my knife in my hand, smiling like a predator stalking its diner for the night.
He met my gaze with defiance and curiosity. “What do you know about all that?” he asked.
“You don’t remember me too? My poor heart. You tried to kill me. Maybe if I cry and bleed, you’ll remember me, ” I sighed, and continued, “You know what they say, ‘Hurt a woman and you’ll never be the same after her vengeance’,” A laugh escaped me, “No one said that but it’s funny to see you stressing thinking I’m just going to kill you like that, where’s the fun in that? I mean I could but no... too easy, you deserve to suffer. I’m just thinking of cutting you first, starting with your fingers maybe? No. Maybe I could cut your dick off, it will be symbolic, don’t you agree?”
I approached him, the blade planted against his thigh, near that bulge under his pants. I never thought I would enjoy thinking of the way I could make someone suffer as much as I do right now.
I traced a line with the blade, drawing blood out of his leg as he screamed in pain. “Do you like it, Alonzo?”
The blade found its way between his thighs, and I pushed it a little further. I no longer controlled my soul; I felt overshadowed by vengeance and hatred, by darkness and sadism. “I dreamed of being able to cut off your dick to punish you. At first, I wanted to do it with my nails, but I didn’t want to dirty them with your nasty blood.”
That shining edge was pressing into his flesh as he screamed a little louder, but it was all drowned out by the loud music inside. “Beg me to stop, beg me!” I pushed a little harder; the blood flowed more intensely.
He screamed and clenched his teeth before spitting out, “You’re fucking psychotic.”
I smiled at his remark, pulled out my blade, still glistening with his blood, while he just screamed, clenching his teeth inpain. I then shook my head again, “Says the man that kidnapped underage girls and rape them before killing them? Funny huh. Sadly, I’m not diagnosed as psychotic yet.... But he is,” I mirrored someone behind him with my knife, still grinning.
The Devil winked at me and waved his hand toward Alonzo. Niko stood beside him, looking at me with a curious gaze.
He didn’t know I had this darkness in me, the hunger to procure pain and inflict agony. But when it came to these bastards, I unleashed it.
Elijah wasn’t surprised, he was even proud of me.
I felt the urge to make Alonzo witness the wrath and rage of a wounded woman, haunted by nightmares of him and his friends, of their eyes, their voices, the way their hands moved on us like we were only here to satisfy them. The way they killed us slowly, agonizingly while they revealed themselves in champagne and parties, not even regretting what they did.
Something about this kind of powerful man just makes me sick to my stomach.
It’s that selfishness, that arrogance, that constant conceit they wear like some twisted badge of honor among themselves. However, the moment a woman finally stands up for herself after enduring some disgusting remarks and actions, they have the audacity to label her as crazy or too emotional.
How can they possibly believe that a woman, whose life they’ve turned into a living hell, wouldn’t eventually become Lilith?
Elijah’s eyes bore into the man, so dark, so full of anger. He encircled Alonzo, like the moon encircling the sun during an eclipse—dangerous, dark, but so bright at the same time.
“You took something precious from her and she’s precious to me,” he whispered softly enough for me to hear it.
Precious to him.
Alonzo stammered, fear etched across his face, realizing the situation he was in. “I didn’t— I didn’t know she was yours Volkov, I didn’t know it would end like that. It was just a job.”
“I’m not hi—” I tried to say, but Elijah’s hand snapped out, gripping his collar, pulling him close enough to feel the chill in his voice, “Just a job? You played with lives for money?”
Nikolai watched his friend, then me, but he didn’t say anything. He knew, just like I knew, that Elijah wasn’t playing with Alonzo. It felt personal, it wasn’t just a role, I never saw him like that.
Elijah inserted a finger into the wound I carved into Alonzo’s thigh, slowly pushing it deeper and deeper inside his flesh. The man screamed in suffering, and I loved the sound of it; I even wanted it to be louder. I savored the way his eyes watered, the way he almost fainted from pain.
“You’re going to help us dismantle your entire organization. Names, contacts, everything you have. Or, believe me, the pain you inflicted on her will seem like a gentle caress beside what I’m going to make you feel, Alonzo.”
I approached them and couldn’t deny the surge of safeness he provided. I swallowed my rage, knowing that this was the world we lived in—one where justice often came with this kind of price. Blood for blood.
