Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Forty-eight

I take her home late the following day. Willow had come by earlier this morning and dropped off some clothes for her to change into, and now she’s sitting in the now clean passenger seat of the Maserati, watching the city pass outside the window.

She’s gone quiet on me, reflective but she accepts my hand when I reach across to take hers within mine, her thumb brushing up and down my finger.

“What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours, kitten?” I ask when the landscape around us changes from grey buildings to lush greenery, the scenery like something from a painting, covered in white snow with only small peeks of green breaking it up.

“Do you think it could have been Regina?” She asks, turning to me.

“What about her?” My hand turns hard on the wheel.

“Well, we had that altercation,” She watches me intently, “Do you think she could have hired someone?”

“Regina isn’t brave enough,” I answer honestly, “She’s all bark.”

I see her purse her lips out of the corner of my eye, “I’m not sure.”

“I will find out,” I assure her, “I’ll find whoever was behind it. You have my word.”

“I believe you,” She answers, “I just never expected anything like this to happen to me.”

My stomach twists. Of course, this never would have happened if it wasn’t for me. If she didn’t have my last name, wasn’t tied to me with that wedding band on her dainty finger, this never would have happened.

But I never thought about this when I decided to take her as mine, it didn’t cross my mind when I kissed her at the altar or forced her to share my bed. But back then, I didn’t realize how quickly I’d become enamored by her, how much I would crave her.

I haven’t had the chance yet to interrogate the second man since I’ve spent the last several hours at the hospital, but I plan on doing it the moment Olivia is settled in back at the estate.

The cells are in the basement of the house, deep beneath my home and are made up of several rooms. They’ve been used for various reasons over the years, but it’s mostly been for traitors.

I have a feeling I’d be using them a lot over the coming weeks.

I am ready to tear my council apart, weed out the rats and snakes with these changes coming. Olivia thinks Regina had something to do with it, but I know different. I know one of the members of the council is involved in this. But who, I didn’t know.

Iwan and Hank are prime suspects but without sure evidence, I could lose any remaining members on my side if I outright accuse them. I couldn’t risk taking revenge on them without knowing exactly what it is they are doing.

The council needed me more than I needed them, but they are still required. I just needed to change how it runs and how decisions, votes and changes are made.

It’s been run the same way for generations but time changes all and these outdated traditions and rules put in place by my predecessors must change.

Olivia goes to bed earlier than usual, but she looked exhausted. I sat with her until she fell asleep which hadn’t taken long at all and then I’d switched out the light, closed the door and ordered one of my most trusted men to sit close by to keep watch.

I won’t make the mistake of risking her life again.

Sebastian, Killian, and Dean are waiting in the drawing room for me when I come downstairs, their clothing dark and leather gloves already covering their hands.

“Ready?” I ask them, opening the top drawer for my own gloves.

“Let’s go.” Sebastian moves toward the hidden door inside the drawing room. It’s the only way to access the cells beneath and unless you knew it was there, you’d never find it.

I press on the panel on the wall which clicks to show a metal door with a pin lock. Entering the code, the locking mechanism begins to click and whirl before the door releases straight onto a set of stairs leading down.

The walls are concrete, and the air cold, stale, the sound of our steps echoing as we make our way down the stairs and then the long dark hall which opens into a large room. The room is divided into several small rooms surrounding a much larger area that’s stained red with aged blood. It doesn’t matter how thoroughly it’s cleaned; the blood never comes out.

All of these rooms are empty right now except the one holding my current guest.

I can hear him, voice raw from screaming, begging to be let out, but this room will be the last one he sees. It’ll be my face that shows him to hell.

Sebastian heads straight for the room, unlocking it while I take a seat at the table in the middle of the space. The top of it is scratched and dented, stained like the floor is. There’s a drawer with all my toys but I don’t get them out yet. While torture is handy and useful in getting what I want, I do try to be civilized first.

The guy is dragged from his cell, his face a mash of broken skin, swelling and day old, crusted blood. His clothes are torn, and he has a limp, but he fights like he hasn’t already taken a beating even when he knows there is no way he could win.

“Connor Lane.” I say his name, “Let me introduce myself.”

Sebastian forces him down in the chair opposite me, grabbing his hands as he slams them onto the table, using the chains to keep them there. He does the same to his ankles, locking him to the chair.

“I know who you are,” The guy spits, struggling past the swollen lips and missing teeth.

“Good.” I lean back, throwing an arm around the back of my chair, “Makes my life a little easier.”

“What do you want?” He snaps, keeping his fight.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I don’t rat.”

I roll my eyes, everyone talks eventually. And men like him, hired for a purpose, talk far quicker than they like to believe. This one though isn’t part of my organization. Of course, there are smaller businesses like mine, little fish that have no bearing on me whatsoever, but every now and then paths cross, lives become tangled, and I have to do a little clean up.

“Then I’m sure you know where this is going.” I open the drawer, looking down into it as I contemplate my choices. Keeping it simple, I pull out the butcher’s knife, the edge of it glinting in the white lighting above my head.

It’s nothing fancy, I don’t need anything like that for what I am about to do.

Connor’s eyes drop to the knife I lay on the table, a flicker of fear there but it doesn’t remain.

“Last chance, who hired you?”

“Go to hell, Farrow.” He spits down onto the table.

“Fine.” I get up, walk around and toward him, the knife dangling from my fingers. “You hurt my wife.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“You laid your hands on her.”

“Yeah?” He grins manically, “I was gonna do more than that.”

“I’m sure,” I don’t show a reaction even if I burn within. I flick my eyes to Sebastian who steps up, grabs the guy’s fingers and flattens them against the table. I don’t hesitate to swing, the knife coming down across all four fingers, cutting them clean off his hand.

He screams, blood splattering onto the shiny surface.

“That’s for touching her.” I tell him, waiting for Sebastian to straighten out his other hand. He thrashes, trying to get free but the chains are flush to his wrists, allowing no movement. The metal rattles with his fight and spittle flies from his lips as he screams but it does nothing to me, it’s like music.

I bring the knife down across his other fingers, cutting them off just like I did before.

“That’s for hurting her.”

Connor thrashes in pain, his fingers pouring blood onto the table, the severed digits scattered across the top. I pick one up, his middle I think and examine it.

“Open wide,” I order, moving the finger toward his fucked-up mouth.

His eyes widen as he thrashes his head side to side, but Sebastian does what is needed, not even fazed by what I am about to do. He forces the guy’s mouth open, and I shove the finger inside. Before he can spit it out, Bast is snapping his jaw closed.

He cries out but can’t get the finger out, leaving him no choice but to swallow it.

“How does it taste?” I ask when Sebastian releases him. “Do you understand now? Do you understand who you’ve fucked with?”

Finally, fear twists his expression and this time he can’t hide it.

My hands land in the blood as I lean on it and get close, “That’s what it tastes like when you come for a Farrow. This is what happens when you come for my wife.”

“I-I’m sorry!” He stutters, blood leaking from his mouth, mixed with saliva that drips off his chin.

“It’s a little late for apologies,” I wave a hand, pushing up from the table as I start to pace, bored, “But I will give you one offer.”

“Anything.” He begs.

“The name.”

“I don’t know!” He cries, “I swear man, I wasn’t given the details, I just tagged along for the job!”

“You didn’t think to ask?”

“No!” The chains rattle some more, “It doesn’t matter much. You know that! I just wanted the money!”

I nod, “Did you know she was my wife?”

“Not until we found her in the hall, and she confirmed her name.”

“Yet you still went for her?”

“She was alone man,” he admits honestly, “It was easy.”

I flick my eyes to Sebastian who looks as angry as I feel.

“Last chance, Connor. I want a name.”

“I don’t know, I swear! I don’t have a name!”

I shake my head in disappointment, “Then my offer is off the table.”

“What!? No!”

“No name, no freedom.” I pull the gloves off my hands, throwing them onto the floor at his feet, “Gentlemen,” I say to the guys, “Finish the job. Make sure he understands the severity of his mistake of crossing us before he dies, yeah?”

They nod and I start to walk away, the sound of my steps joined by his screams. They grow quieter the further I get from them until I’m walking out the door and shutting out the sound.