Page 141 of Dukes Are Forever
He fought to break free of the panic, forcing himself to breathe. One slow breath in, and one slow breath out. And again.
Until his ears were no longer ringing and he could see through the narrow tunnel he'd found himself in.
"This time, we will have our end. This time, only one of us will survive," Balfour promised.
"Then do it," Malloryn taunted. "Kill me. I know you want to."
At that, a faint smile touched Balfour's lips. "You arrogant little cur." He began stripping off his gloves, one finger at a time. "Did you think it would ever be that easy? I don't want you to be a martyr. I want you to suffer. Death is too easy. Death is a release. No. I want to make you hurt. I want to destroy each and every aspect of your life... the way you destroyed mine. I want to break you."
You already broke me.
The boy that he'd been—the arrogant youth who'd thought himself above punishment—had died a swift, merciless death as he held the bloodied form of the girl he loved in his arms and begged her to come back to him.
From the second Balfour put a bullet in Catherine's chest, he may as well have started digging that boy's grave.
Auvry was dead. Buried. Gone. Only Malloryn remained, a thin veneer of civility straining over the ligaments and bare bones of his rage.
And he laughed.
The sound filled the cellar, making Balfour flinch back in surprise.
"Do you think there's anything you can do to me that hasn't already been done?" he breathed, when the laughter choked in his throat."You already killed the woman I loved."
And he'd never dared love again.
"Did I? We're here to test that theory."
A chill ran through Malloryn as Balfour whisked the velvet from the table, revealing a pair of objects. "I'll even give you a clue as to what I plan."
The heat drained from Malloryn's face as he recognized the threat.
Not torture.
But something designed to cripple, all the same.
Two miniatures. Two women, their oval faces gleaming on darkened canvas. One as blonde and radiant as the sunlight, and the other dark and smiling a secret, sensual smile.
This was his Achilles heel.
"I must admit, it's been difficult to decide who to hurt first. I couldn't guess which one held your affections more, so I took both. On one side we have the glorious soprano, Mrs. Danner, and on the other, we have the calculating duchess, Adele."
That noise he'd heard.
He'd been right all along. Therehadbeen someone in his house.
"Which one will you choose to save?"
The breath exploded out of him.
Pain screamed through Malloryn's wrists as he tore at his restraints, but there was no way of escaping. Horror flooded through him.No. "You bastard! They're both innocent. This is between you and me—"
"It has never been solely between you and me. You made sure of that when you stole my blasted thrall. Killed my puppet prince. Ruined my power base here in London. So now I will return the favor. Youmighthave enough time to save one of them," Balfour promised. "Even now your Company of Rogues rides to your rescue, guided, no doubt, by that beacon in your head."
Balfour wanted them to find him.
"Or perhaps both will die," Balfour mused. "I would enjoy that, I think."
"You son of a bitch. You—"
