When Kings Bend : A Dark Irish Mafia Romance intensified by the presence of a cult. (The O'Sullivan's Brides Book Two) by Vi Carter

Author:Vi Carter [Carter, Vi & Carter, Vi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CARTER BOOKS
Published: 2024-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Amira

I GRIP THE blade tightly, feeling its cool, unforgiving edge. As I draw it across the girl's belly, a perfect line of blood beads up in its wake—not too deep, not too shallow. The dim light catches the metallic sheen, and I carefully guide the weapon to a new spot along her skin, pressing just enough to maintain the delicate flow.

"Stop. That’s enough. Get cleaned up," I command, my voice echoing slightly in the sparsely furnished room. This place, reserved for the ones not quite adept enough with their hands, mouths, or other more intimate talents, is designed for pain—either giving or receiving. The beds are stark, clad in hospital-grade sheets, and the floors are bare, hard, and cold, stained with countless drops of blood.

I glance around, my gaze lingering on the door for a moment. Beyond it, rooms hold horrors that most can't fathom. But for me, the real terror has shifted—it’s no longer just the Pain Room. It’s Wolf’s bedroom that haunts my thoughts now.

The makeup on my face feels thick, plastered over every visible inch of skin to cover the bruises and the secrets beneath. My collars ride high, and my sleeves stretch long down my arms, hiding more than just flesh.

Lately, I've been taking the drugs Wolf pushes at me. It’s easier that way. Pain, after all, is only real when you're sober.

The girl in front of me is barely a woman, her body marked by shallow curves and a childish fullness in her cheeks. Once, curiosity got the better of me, and I dared ask Wolf if any of our "cargo" were minors. His response was a beer bottle hurled at my head.

She takes the towel I offer, dabbing at the blood on her stomach with shaky hands. Wolf’s voice suddenly bellows from his corner, a deep, grating sound that used to make me flinch. But not anymore. I stand still, unaffected, and I can feel his anger boiling over. It infuriates him that I no longer react, that I don’t show fear. He thrives on the fear of others, sees it as a tribute to his power. But my defiance seems like a personal affront, a challenge to his authority.

As I watch the girl clean herself, a part of me wonders just how much more of this life I can stand. How much longer can I wear this mask, dance to Wolf's twisted tunes? But then, what choice do I have? This isn't just about survival anymore. It's about revenge.

“I saved you,” he constantly reminds me, his voice dripping with a twisted sense of benevolence. I don't look at him, don't give him the satisfaction of seeing my response.

Wolf thumps on the wall twice with his fist, a signal I’ve become familiar with. A hidden door swings open, and two young women step out, their eyes wide, uncertain. “Not you,” he growls, pointing at the redhead who hesitates, then steps back. “Her.” His finger shifts to the other girl, one with brown hair, much like my own.

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