FORTY-THREE
Harry
Having Gigi would give me eternal peace, but if I can’t have that, spilling blood will come as a close second. Whenever I’m struggling with rage, there’s no other outlet for my pent-up anger than to unleash it by giving my trusty dagger a whirl. In a sick, twisted way, torture is my only option to calm the beating pulse under my skin.
Nothing has ever sparked my anger so intensely as discovering Gigi will be stripping in front of a room full of men, all eyes on her.
Thankfully, two people can help unleash the demons.
Two men who need information extracting from them.
Twins.
My little princess thinks I killed Billy and Bobby for looking at her wrong. God no. Who does she think I am? Killing them for the hunger in their eyes? No way … They deserve a death much, much worse.
I’ve always said I like to keep my work life and home life separate, and that’s why I’ll never live in the apartments at the Circle headquarters. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Sometimes the two have to mix.
The surveillance room in my house is currently wrapped with plastic sheets from floor to ceiling as Billy and Bobby sit restrained to wooden chairs in the centre of the room. Cloth gags fill their sick fucking mouths, and their pupils are blown in fear as they watch me approach. They’ve been here for days. Christ, I went abroad to fucking Italy and left the two of them in the comfort of my home – how generous am I? Sure, I’ve been feeding them just enough food and water to make sure death doesn’t meet them soon. But they’re weak, their fat, slimy bodies now frail and lacking life.
At the sight of them, desperation overwhelms me. I’m eager to feel flesh and muscle submitting to my blade as it pierces through skin, brittle and bone, but something holds me back.
Something that fucking Italian guard said to Gigi.
“My word, the highest bidder will pay a pretty penny for you.”
Fucking hell, I wanted to castrate the man on the spot and force-feed him his intestines, but that was Gigi’s kill.
And something tells me Billy and Bobby here have a lot to answer for.
I pace by their sides slowly, scratching the stubble underneath my chin with the tip of my blade as I say, “How much business do you do with the Mafia?”
One of them mumbles against his gag.
“Where are my manners?” I sigh, ripping them both free of the cloth.
Sucking in a heavy breath, one says, “Richard dealt with the Italians.”
I frown, spin the dagger between my fingers, and then catch it in my palm, pointing it at his chest. “Billy, is it?”
“Bobby,” he says on a heavy exhale.
“Ah, sorry.” I step closer, keeping the edge of the dagger pointed at him, and he pulls his head back the closer I approach. “But you work with Richard closely, no?”
He hesitates but nods.
My face turns cold, and I feel my humanity lessen as I say, “Then tell me about the human trafficking.”
Stuttering, he starts, “I-I … I don’t know what—”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about,” I deadpan, finishing the sentence for him. “Don’t be so fucking cliché, Bobby. Maybe a bit of motivation will help change your mind …”
I stretch out my limbs above my head, sighing at the satisfying crack as I walk around to Billy, smiling at him in apology.
There’s simply no other choice.
I press the tip of the knife into his thigh. He grits his teeth, anger flaming in his eyes despite trying to keep his composure. As I push further in, piercing flesh, he cries out, flailing at the torture.
“Quickly, Bobby. If you don’t spill your fucking mouth, then I’ll have no other option than to sever his femoral artery,” I shout over the cries.
Bobby starts fighting against the restraints as his brother’s screams vibrate off the walls. I shudder in delight, yet I become really tired as I hear, “I told you, I don’t fucking know!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I shout through gritted teeth.
As I stare down at the mess of the dagger, my hands stained with crimson, my vision blurs. The further I push the dagger in, the more I become lost between the past and the present, imagining there’s a bullet wound in his thigh.
A bullet wound in her.
I dig the dagger in deeper.
“TELL HIM!” Billy screams.
“ALL RIGHT!”
I smile and blink away the dark haze before yanking my knife free.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard.”
As I walk around to Bobby, his nostrils flare, and he spits, “You’re sick. Fucking sick.”
I grin, chuckling as I press the tip of my blade to his throat, still soaked in his brother’s blood. “My girl says the same thing, but I prefer hearing it from her pretty lips than your ugly gob.” Crouching down to his height, I retrieve a piece of paper from my back pocket and offer it to him. “You’re going to write down the address of the trafficking ring, and it’d better match up with what your brother says. If not, I’ll kill him.”
His bottom lip trembles. “But I haven’t got anything to write with.”
I grin, flipping the handle of my dagger and pressing the hilt into his mouth.
“Bite down,” I tell him.
He does so hesitantly, grimacing against the metal. The tip of the blade is drenched with blood and will act as his pen, telling me what I need to know.
“Now think real carefully, Bobby. Someone’s life is on the line here.”
He nods frantically, scribbling down a sloppy version of a postcode situated in East London. Once he’s finished he drops the dagger from his teeth, his body shaking with tremors.
“Th-there! I swear that’s the truth.”
I smile. Even more so as I stab the dagger right into his fucking heart. He cries out as I twist the handle, watching me, his heavy eyes draining of hope, skin fading in colour. When I pull the knife from his flesh his body goes limp against the chair.
As I walk slowly around to his brother, he becomes frantic against his restraints.
Pretty impressive for a man bleeding to death.
“Fuck you, man!” he shouts, his throat hoarse. “I ain’t telling you shit!”
I flip the dagger in my hand then lean down to his neck, pressing my blade against his pulsing vein. “There’s no need,” I say, watching the fight leave his soul. “I believe him.”
And I slit his fucking throat.
If I thought resisting Gigi was hard, right now it’s fucking impossible. She’s in my embrace, her forehead against mine, yet she’s untouchable in every respect. My cock is painful against my trousers, and she can clearly feel it as she rubs her hips against me.
“I wouldn’t do that again, princess. Unless you want to deal with the consequences.”
“Did you say something?” Poppy asks beside us.
Gigi stutters, “N-nothing. He said nothing.”
She glares at me.
I wink.
We’ve been training for this show like clockwork. Every day is incredibly difficult, feeling her touch on my body yet fighting the arousal. The thought of Billy and Bobby quickly sobers my mood. Despite having lost a significant amount of weight, they were heavy, and it was fucking difficult to haul them out of my house and into the G-Wagon. No way was I tainting the Bentley with their slime.
It’s only a matter of time before their bodies are recovered from the River Thames.
I checked out that postcode, and while there was evidence something dark occurred, the place was deserted. There’s nothing I can do right now. When I’ve finally got some free time, I’ll traipse through the security footage of the area.
“Harry?” Gigi asks, pulling me back to the present.
“Yes, baby?” I respond naturally.
I turn to find her eyes are wild, darting a worrying look at Poppy. I chance a look too, but she’s staring down at her phone, typing away with disinterest.
Lowering her voice to a whisper, Gigi hisses, “You can’t say stuff like that in public.”
“Why?” I respond just as quietly. “Have you agreed to be mine? ”
I stare at her lips – the ones I remember being wrapped around my cock, but more importantly, the ones I imagine moving with the words she’ll take me. She’ll let me worship her for the remainder of our lives.
“I’m still thinking,” she says.
I spin her into my embrace, bringing her in close so her back is pressed to my front. In time with the music, my hand slowly moves up from her lower stomach and over her chest. Her breathing shallows as I softly cup her jaw and turn her face to mine. It’s part of the routine, but my heart spikes as if I’ve fallen from a skyscraper when her eyes naturally drop to my mouth.
“It’s a good thing we have forever,” I tell her.