by Jarica James
“Jason mentioned going on a longer shipment run,” she announced before taking her seat.
“Kill?”
“One sec,” Killian answered, already swiping and tapping at his phone, searching for something. “Confirmed. He’s on his way to the Theron clan, but check-ins stopped halfway back home.”
“And Seth?” Keir asked, and everyone glanced at each other, their worry palpable. “Ky, was he one of yours?”
“No, he wasn’t even on duty. He’d just had a baby, so he’s with his family for now.” My heart clenched at the news. I loved that they took care of their people like they did.
“Here’s the bottom line. Your queen was gifted a hand yesterday,” Keir started, all focus swinging to me. Knowing how this worked, I kept my head high with a mask of indifference, and I was relieved to see a significant lack of hostility directed at me. “The hand held our mark, so it’s one of our own. Clean-up is on it, and they’ll send pictures out if they find identifying marks. Until then, we have a missing person, and we need to work on a retaliation.”
“Boss, no retaliation needed. Apparently, the Lachs were careless again,” someone yelled. The triumph in his voice made Keir stand, leaning forward with his hands on the table. “We have a prisoner.”
“In transit?” Keir asked.
“As we speak.”
“Well done, Xander,” Keir praised, already pulling me up as we stormed from the room. Angelina’s protests followed us, but Kyrell answered back.
“Sorry, business, send some dessert our way later!”
Now this is how I expected a Family dinner to end.
“Are you dropping us off?” I asked as I nearly lost my footing on the gravel in the driveway, but Keir laughed it off and kept me upright.
“What part of queen did you misunderstand? You go where we go,” he said, pulling me right into the car with him after wrenching the door open. Ky started it as Kill got into the front seat. My heart pounded at the prospect, but I kept any objections to myself. At this point all that was holding me back was my timeline, not them or the life itself. Seeing everything I had today, I was more than impressed.
The blood and adrenaline of our lifestyle called to me like a siren’s song, and the way they ran it was the icing on the cake. But if I was being honest with myself, it wasn’t the mafia I hated, but my grandfather and the way he used me. To him, I was a pawn, but to them, I was the queen. And that‘s everything.
“Where’s Dani?” I demanded before my thoughts could start circling, but Ky was already peeling out of the driveway. Keir chuckled and plopped me in the empty seat next to him, reaching over and buckling me up.
“Let’s not kill her on the way,” he prompted, but Ky just scoffed at the questioning of his driving skills. In all fairness, he weaved expertly through the traffic, and we arrived quickly and in one piece. Despite my relentless and probably annoying questions, they were quiet.
“Dani is with the Family; she’ll be fine,” Killian finally answered as we all climbed out. They silently keyed into their building and went straight for the elevator, entering a code. I held my breath, the memories of last time flooding me as we entered the basement.
When we went through the door into the main room, there was a new guard at the desk, this one built like a brick house with the face of a bulldog. I couldn’t help but smirk as I took him in, loving they ‘d had to upgrade because of me.“Don’t look so smug,” Killian laughed, shaking his head, but Keir was focused, stalking forward with purpose.
“The room is ready for us?”
“Yes, Boss,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Perfect. And this, Carlo, is our queen, Otsana. Remember her face because she will have the same access we do. Understood?”
“Yes, Boss,” he said, directing a nod at me this time.
Satisfied, Keir led us further into the basement, the guys sandwiching me between them like I was being herded. When they opened the next door, my feet faltered at the sight of the man before me. He was one of my newer regular customers. Over the last few weeks he’d come in more and more, buying something different each time. He’d seemed a bit weird, but I’d never pegged him as mafia.
“Anna?” the man asked, the sound garbled by the swelling on his jaw.
“It’s Otsana,” I corrected weakly, the guys looking between us suspiciously. “He’s been in the shop a couple times the last few weeks.”
“And why is that?” Kyrell asked, his calm voice terrifying as he leaned into the man’s face.
“Last chance, give us something or regret it,” Killian said slowly, and the man began laughing openly. “What were you doing there?”
“Watching her. She’s got a hefty price on that pretty head of hers,” he taunted, all of us freezing at the news.
“We’re going to need a few more details, or I can start carving now,” Ky said, staring him down. The guy changed then, his smug silence fading to pure arrogance, his silence a challenge that I doubted he was tough enough to survive. “Otsana, Princess, please grab something off of the wall for me. Your choice,” Keir directed as Killian drew aside a curtain and tied it back, exposing a wall full of interrogation equipment. Instead of feeling nauseous or worried, I felt right at home, the sadistic side to my brain coming out as I grabbed a personal favorite… my hunting knife from my boot, ignoring their goodies. Keir didn’t mind; in fact, the hunger and appreciation in his eyes told me I’d done well. I saluted him with my knife and turned toward our prisoner.
Ever since my first kills, it had become a favorite. To me, feeling safe and strong while holding a knife was much more normal than cozying into a blanket for comfort. Once the smooth handle was in my fingers, I turned. A small smile played across my lips as I sauntered over, locking eyes on the man who’d invaded my privacy, making a mockery of my safe space.
“I should have taken you when I had the chance. We were alone in that store; it would have been so easy to overpower you. I should have fucked some Lach into you, showed you what you’re missing with these pencil dicked fucks.” His words were met with a hit straight to his eye as Keir popped up out of nowhere. He was bound by his torso to the chair, so his head snapped back painfully at the impact, the man screaming in pain. When Keir stepped away, the man raised his head, right eye already swelling shut and purple.
“Pencil dick?” Killian taunted, whipping his dick out and running his hand over it until he was hard. “Does this look small to you? You look like the vulnerable one here. Maybe I should tie you up and fuck some respect into you?” The threat was empty, I was pretty sure, but the man didn’t know that. Kill stepped forward and slammed his hand into the man’s throat when he laughed, squeezing until the man struggled, then releasing pressure. Before Keir pulled away fully, he slammed a fist into our guest’s nose, blood covering his hand and the man’s face when he stepped away.
Killian looked unhinged and psychotic as he rubbed his dick, circling the man like a shark out for blood, not even caring that the hand he was using was covered in his victim’s blood. Knowing my guys, that’s an added part of the appeal. It was kind of hot, their blatant dominance and darkness sucking me in easily, a match for my own.
“Fuck you,” the man spat, but there was a waver in his voice. “They said you were fucking nuts, but now I believe it.”
“They are,” I said, directing his attention back to me, “but so am I. I promise, you wouldn’t have gotten far.” I said, holding the knife out to Keir, but he waved me off with a smirk.
“Nope, I want to see my queen at work,” he said. Walking away, he leaned against the wall, the other two joining him. Killian was still openly jacking off as he watched me work, and the party hadn’t even really begun.
My psycho men giving up a torture session was huge, and now I had no qualms about hurting the man who’d just threatened to rape me. Who needs diamonds when you’ve got a present all nicely tied up like this?
“Tell me… who shot at me today? And who broke
into my store?” I asked, but my “friend” was still making poor choices, the amusement in his eyes betraying that he still wasn’t taking me seriously. I think he’s forgetting which of us is sitting here with a puffy jaw and a swollen eye, but I’ll gladly remind him of those and add some new marks.
“I don’t know,” he said, defiance in his voice like a petulant child, but I was unfazed by his resistance, knowing this wasn’t going to end at all good for him.
“Okay, let me go ahead and give you all the ways I can use this little knife.” I held it up so it gleamed in the light, the serrated edge clamoring for me to paint it red. “I could cut off fingers, stab into joints, carve our names into your skin. Hmmm… nah, those are too tame for you. You’re a tough guy, aren’t you?”
The guys chuckled darkly behind me as I circled him, enjoying myself far too much. There was something so relaxing about slow torture, breaking the victim’s will and pulling information with each swell of blood. That feeling of raw, violent power that settled over you when you knew that you were safe; you were the most fearsome one in the room.
“Since you thought you could use it against me, maybe I should cut your dick off?” With that, I let my knife casually run over his lap, digging in as I raised it higher, brushing over his dick. “Maybe I could carve you down to a pencil-dick like you were accusing them of having? That does have some fun potential,” I mused, my voice breathy as I flicked my gaze up to see all of my guys, dicks out, watching me with hooded eyes. I know what’ll be happening later. He squirmed, trying and failing to make himself sink into the chair.
“You’re fucking crazy too!” he yelled, spittle hitting my face and making me cringe. Without thought, I brought my knife down on his bound forearm, stabbing it down to the bone. He screamed, the sound loud and echoing in the small space, but it was perfect. Hearing the results of my work was a necessary part of the fun.
“You ready to tell me who gave the order to kill me?” I asked again, my voice even as I stepped just out of range of his spit. I swore the man was like a fucking alpaca.
“I don’t know,” he said again, but this time he sounded tired, resigned. Stepping forward, I yanked the knife out of his arm and dropped it on a nearby tray. I walked back to the wall of tools, brushing fingers gently over them before finally picking up a long steel rod.
“Last chance, or we get to have more fun,” I offered, my smile growing. I mean, I’m winning no matter which way this goes. The guys were looking on in pure psychotic bliss, staring at me like I’d hung the moon and stars. With no response from my prisoner, I blew them a kiss and swung the rod down into his shoulder, the resulting crunch of bone and wail of agony making me shiver. I felt carefree and relaxed, a weightlessness coming over me that I hadn’t experienced for the last however many years. Long before coming here. I had the decency to be loyal to those who deserved it and kept torture as a tactic only when necessary, like now, so it had been a long time since I’d gotten to feed these particular hungers of mine. And I’m starving for it.
“Stop! You know it was the fucking Lachs. We’re coming for this shitty family!” he screeched, and I dropped the rod, letting him think for even just that moment that maybe this was all over. A wicked smile took over my face, my victim paling that tiny bit further when he got his glimpse.
“Insulting the Family? You thought that would help you?” I asked, grabbing a sharpened cleaver from the wall. He fought violently against the braces, tugging ruthlessly, but he should’ve known it would be pointless. The braces were made so his fingers curled around the front of the armrests, giving me the perfect place to use my weapon.
“Stop! It was an order from higher up! We couldn’t just refuse!”
“Then tell me whose hand was thrown into my shop. Who did you kill?” I asked, pausing with my arm in the air, ready for my next taste of his pain.
“A hand doesn’t mean he’s dead,” he said, spitting on me again.
“Fair,” I said, wiping my face off with the back of my hand before striking, cutting his hand clean off with a strong slam of the cleaver. I knew how to aim for just the right spot, coating myself in the splatter of blood. A gasp, bordering on a moan bubbled out when the red spray hit my skin, my entire body keyed up now. I felt like I could take on the world and win, adrenaline and excitement electrifying my system.
The man trembled, tears running down his face as he slipped his mutilated arm out of the now useless brace and cradled the bleeding nub close to his body.
“Give me answers,” I said one last time. “Or I’ll kill you now.”
“You’ll kill me anyway!” he howled through his pain, finally having realized that I was dangerous in my own right.
“But your answer will make a difference in how painful or slow it is,” I reasoned, and he swallowed thickly, a flicker of desperation in his eyes.
“But I can help you!” he cried out. “I know things, and I can help you plan retribution.”
“No deal. We have plenty of intel. Give us what we want, or she starts getting inventive,” Keir called out. Hearing from Keir seemed to have the opposite effect, the man in the chair glaring silently back at us despite the fear in his eyes.
“Alright, you chose this,” I countered, glancing over at Keir.
“Make it bloody,” he husked, that smile on his face hungry and sexy.
“Done,” I promised as a Harely Quinn grin took over my face, grabbing a pair of spiked brass knuckles on the wall. They were a bit big, but I slid them on, adjusting them in my grip and stepping closer once again. “Now… one more time. I want names and details.”
“No,” he said quietly, flinching when I slammed the knuckles into his jaw. As the spikes tore his flesh, more blood flung splattered my arms. He coughed out a huge mouthful of blood and a few teeth before looking at me and spitting, the saliva bloody and thick. I just blinked at him. When it got to this point where their fear threatened to turn the corner into bravery, silence was the best weapon. Silence was unpredictable. Silence was pain. Silence was the unknown. When you were the one strapped to a chair, your tears mixing with the blood that spilled from weeping cuts and a disfigured limb, that bone-chilling fear of the unknown could make magic happen, the toughest of men giving away all their nasty secrets.
“You have a rat who wants you out. They’re working with the higher ups in the Lach Family,” he bit out, eyes flickering closed as he fought to stay conscious through the pain. “They told us where to find your men. Your drug man’s ashes are in our incinerator.”
“And they’ll never find yours,” I said, my anger at someone betraying not just the guys, but me as well, building until I made my choice. Even if he wasn’t telling me the full truth, I was done playing games.
I rained hit after hit down upon him, each blow of the brass knuckles leaving him nearly choking on his blood, dying slowly. The sounds of bones crushing and flesh tearing filled the room until finally, even his attempts at breathing died out. Swiping a hand across my bloody and sweaty forehead, I looked up at the guys. Their demons were fully out now, ready to play with mine, and as I stared at the predators before me, their eyes filled with heated lust, my own hunger rose again.
Keir
She was a dark angel, beautiful and violent, painting the room in blood as she gracefully doled out justice. My chest warmed when she referred to our Family as her own, knowing our queen was closer to giving in to us, to joining us in this empire and filling the space that had been hers all along. Even back in high school, I’d known we’d end up here. She was our equal, and she could hold her own. She’d be able to handle us and our Family with ease.
When the life drained from his body, she dropped the knife and looked up at us, breathing heavy, skin covered in his blood.
Fucking perfection.
“Upstairs, now,” I ordered, and she nodded, walking right past her carnage and heading for the elevator. She didn’t even acknowledge Carlo, walking with a one track mind and a body ready to be dominated. He
looked impressed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, glad he appreciated her too.
“Carlo, take care of that, will you? And no need to keep it discreet,” Kyrell said casually as we followed her out, giving him permission to spread the word.
As soon as I keyed in the code for our floor, I was on her, shoving her into the wall in a hard kiss that couldn’t be anything but claiming. She gasped as I bit her lip, tasting her blood before pulling back.
“That, my queen, was pure magic,” I praised, her smile bright as she took in my words.
“I’ve realized something,” she whispered, her somber tone making me pause even as my dick ached in my pants. We hadn’t gotten the chance to finish, something I’d rectify now.
“And what’s that?” Killian prompted, crowding us with no concept of personal space.
“That you feel like home,” she said finally, letting out a contented sigh as the doors slid open.
“You’ve always been ours, Princess,” I said, but Killian had other things on his mind. He was looking positively feral at this point, but I couldn’t blame him.
“Where to?” he asked, letting me take the lead in what we knew with unspoken certainty was going to be our second shared night. The first of many to cum...hah.
“My room,” I ordered, holding my arms out for Sana. She grinned and hopped up, my arm going under her ass as I carried her inside. Her lips pressed to mine before she trailed down my neck, sucking and biting, each sharp stab of pain fueling my hunger.
As soon as Killian pushed the door open, I threw her onto the bed, red silky sheets just for her. I’d known this moment would come and had prepared for it, putting our favorite toys within reach and tying the rope to the bed frame so we were ready.
Her breathing hitched as I slowly ran my hand over her skin, grabbing her wrist and securing it to the headboard. Torturously slowly, I ran my hand down her body to her ankle, giving it the same treatment and tying it to the post there. Gesturing to Ky, he finished the job, spreading her out for us with enough slack so that we could fuck her easily.