Page 113 of Buried in Blood
“Still don’t remember?” I ask sweetly.
Enrique’s head lolls forward.
I grab a fistful of his hair and slam it against the table.
He gurgles.
I grab the pliers again.
This time?
A tooth.
I take it slow.
Too slow.
He screams, trying to free himself from my hold, but I am stronger. I will always fucking win. I feel the tooth crumbling beneath the pliers.
And when it’s done?
I leave the pliers on the table, bloodied and warm.
“Let this be a lesson,” I whisper to the corpses watching from behind the glass. “You don’tfailme. You don’t forget your place. And you sure as fuck let my brother buy anyone. Not a single one.”
Enrique is still breathing.
But only for a second. I pull out my gun, aiming it directly at his face, and I pull the trigger.
Brain matter explodes onto the wall behind him. The sound of a bulletechoes off of the concrete walls. It’s music to my fucking ears.
The mole is dead.
Then I walk out without looking back. He’s replaceable.
Everyone is.
* * *
She doesn’t run.
That’s what pisses me off the most.
She stands in the hallway of the main house, barefoot, arms crossed tight over her ribs, like she can protect what’s already mine. Like she’s bracing for a storm instead of causing one.
Lucien fucking Crowe.
He thought he could walk in, charm his way through my auction, and steal from me.
Fromme.
And Harmony—my Harmony—stood here. Breathing. Blinking.Knowing.Letting it happen.
“You look nervous,” I say, voice low. Too calm. The kind of calm that comes before a landslide.
“I’m not,” she lies.
She always was a terrible liar.
