Page 11 of Indulge
Her throat works as she swallows, eyes wide.
“Second lesson,” I whisper, pressing her back against the wall, “every insult leaves a scar.”
I slip a jeweled knife from my clutch, the one my brothers joke about—my lipstick blade. Her eyes widen, panic finally cracking her mask.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Leaving you a memory.”
I hold her in place with my forearm across her chest and drag the tip of the blade against her forehead. She whimpers, but I keep my hand steady, carving the single letter: K.
By the time I step back, blood runs down into her mascara, streaking her face. She stares at me like I’ve destroyed her entire world.
I wipe the blade on her dress before slipping it back into my clutch. “Now everyone will know exactly whose name you dared to spit on.”
She sags against the wall, trembling.
I lean close, whispering against her ear. “I’m not the little sister. I’m the King they should’ve warned you about.”
Then I spin, unlock one of the bathroom stalls, toss her phone inside, and slam it shut.
“Enjoy the night in here,” I purr, blowing her a kiss before I leave.
The heavy door slams behind me, and I turn the key in the main door, locking her in with her blood and shame, and I walk back toward the thumping bass like nothing happened, heels clicking in steady rhythm.
By the time the whispers spread, the mark will already be burned into her skin.
And no one will ever forget who she crossed—while I’m being shipped to America to become some asshole’s bride. I had to leave my brothers one lasting headache.
5
ROWAN
Without a word, Reggie slides the paper across the table to Lyla, and I cringe.
My robot of a brother is giving a top performance.
“W-what’s this?” she whispers, picking it up with shaky fingers.
“The end of our agreement,” Reggie says without any emotion.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“We’re sorry, Lyla,” I tell her, trying to soften the blow.
She blinks back her tears, looking straight at Reg. Oh, boy. Here we go. Reggie hates tears.
She sniffles. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. No. It’s not you. It’s a change of circumstances with us,” I reassure her, nudging Reggie discreetly in the side.
“Change?” she asks, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
“I’m engaged.” Reggie drops the bomb like it’s nothing.
I sit back and wait for the fuse to light.
Lyla is many things. A great sub for us is one of those things. But she is a fuse. There’s a nasty, possessive streak in her. I’ve seen it in the club if any other woman dares to step near us.
