Chapter Fifteen
Alex
The concrete was cold against my knees. Sharp. Unforgiving. The impact had sent a jolt of pain through my legs, but I barely felt it.
Because I couldn’t look away from him.
Don’t look at him. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
But my eyes wouldn’t obey. They stayed locked on Nano, tracking every micro-movement, every shift in his posture, every flicker of expression that crossed his face.
He stood across the basement, maybe ten feet away. Close enough that I could see the tension coiled in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed at his sides, opening and closing as if he were imagining wrapping them around something.
Around me.
Around my throat.
My pulse kicked up, hammering so hard I could feel it in my temples, in my wrists, in the bruised column of my neck where his fingerprints were still branded into my skin.
Look away. Look at Morpheus. Look at the floor. Look anywhere else.
I tried. God, I tried. I forced my gaze to shift left, toward the president standing a few feet away, his arms crossed, his expression cold and assessing.
But within seconds, my eyes dragged back to Nano.
Like gravity. Like a compulsion I couldn’t control.
It was magnetic. Involuntary. The same way my body had responded when he choked me, against every rational thought, against every instinct for self-preservation.
My body didn’t care about logic. It only knew what it wanted.
And what it wanted was him.
No. No, that’s not true. That’s the trauma talking.
That’s Michael. That’s—but the thought died as Nano’s gaze locked onto mine.
His eyes were dark. Predatory. Pupils dilated so wide there was barely any color left, just black hunger staring back at me with an intensity that made my skin burn. He wasn’t just looking at me.
He was seeing me.
Seeing through the defiance, through my fear, straight down to the fractured, broken thing inside me that wanted this.
That craved the violence and the pain, and the terrible, shameful release that came with it.
My thighs clenched involuntarily. Heat flooded through me, sharp and vicious, pooling low in my belly as it spread outward until my entire body felt like it was on fire.
My skin prickled, hypersensitive, as every nerve ending screamed.
It hurt. The arousal hurt, building and building with nowhere to go, no outlet, just pressure and heat and a wet ache between my legs that made me want to press my thighs together harder.
Stop it. Stop responding like this. He is going to kill you.
But my body didn’t care. It was already preparing itself. Already slick and ready, betraying me the same way it had upstairs when I came while he choked me.
Nano’s nostrils flared.
He could smell it. I knew he could. The same way he had known upstairs, the same way he had seen the wet spot on my jeans and understood exactly what it meant. He knew I was aroused. Knew my body was responding to the threat of him, to the violence radiating off him in waves.
And his eyes—fuck.
They told me everything. They told me exactly what he wanted to do to me.
How he wanted to hurt me. How he wanted to watch me break and beg and come while he destroyed me piece by piece.
The promise was there, written in the predatory stillness of his posture, in the way his jaw clenched, in the barely restrained violence thrumming through every line of his body.
He was going to choke me again. He was going to wrap his hand around my throat and squeeze until I couldn’t breathe, until my vision went dark, until my body convulsed and I came while he watched.
And God forgive me, I wanted him to.
The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing what little breath I had left.
No. No, you don’t want that. You’re terrified.
You’re—but the lie wouldn’t hold. Because underneath the terror, underneath the shame and self-loathing and desperate need to survive, there was something else.
Something dark and fractured and wrong within me.
A part of me that craved the violence. That needed the pain.
That desired to be hurt in order to feel anything at all.
Michael had done that to me. He had broken something inside me, rewired my brain until pleasure and pain were so tangled together I couldn’t separate them anymore.
Until the only way I could come was if someone was hurting me.
Choking me. Taking away my air and my control, and my ability to fight back.
And Nano knew it. He had seen it. Recognized it.
And now he was going to use it against me.
You’re going to let him. The thought made bile rise in my throat. Because it was true. When he came for me, and he would come for me, I could see it in his eyes, in the way his entire body was coiled like a spring ready to snap. I wouldn’t fight.
I was going to let him choke me.
I was going to let him hurt me. Let him make me come while I hated myself for it.
“Alex.”
Morpheus’ voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. I flinched, my gaze jerking toward him for half a second before dragging back to Nano.
Stop looking at him. Focus on Morpheus. He’s the one talking.
But I couldn’t. My eyes were locked on Nano as if he was the only thing in the room, the only thing that mattered.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Morpheus said, his tone harder now.
I tried. I forced my head to turn, forced my eyes to focus on the president standing a few feet away. He was tall. Broad-shouldered. His face was all hard angles and cold calculation. His eyes assessed me like I was a problem to be solved. Or eliminated.
“You stole seventy-five million dollars from the Brotherhood of Bastards,” he said, his voice flat. “Money that belonged to me.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat was too tight, my pulse hammering too hard.
“I want it back,” Morpheus continued. “Now.”
My gaze slid back to Nano.
Stop it. Stop looking at him. But I couldn’t help it.
He was a black hole, pulling me in, and I was powerless to resist. His eyes hadn’t left me.
Hadn’t even blinked. He was watching me with the kind of focus that made my skin crawl and burn at the same time.
Like I was prey. Like he was deciding exactly how he was going to take me apart.
“I’m going to make this very simple,” Morpheus said. “You have two choices. You can transfer the money back. Or—”
He paused, letting the silence stretch.
“Or I let Nano off his leash.”
His words hung in the air, heavy and final.
Around the room, the other brothers shifted.
I could feel their eyes on me, could hear the quiet rustle of leather and the creak of boots on concrete.
They were waiting. Watching. Anticipating.
“If I do that,” Morpheus continued, his voice dropping even lower, “there won’t be anything left of you to bury. Do you understand?”
I believed him. God help me, I believed every word.
Because I could see it in his face. The cold certainty.
The complete lack of bluff. Morpheus wasn’t making an idle threat.
He was stating a fact. If he unleashed Nano, I would die.
Slowly. Painfully. In ways I couldn’t even imagine. And Morpheus would let it happen.
My hands trembled against the concrete, my fingers curling into fists. My entire body was shaking now, adrenaline and arousal and terror all tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
“So,” Morpheus said. “Where’s my money?”
Logically, I knew I should tell him. I knew I should give him the account numbers, the passwords, everything he needed to take back what I had stolen.
It was the smart choice. The only choice that didn’t end with me dead.
But the words wouldn’t come. Because telling him meant dying anyway.
Maybe not today. Maybe not in this basement.
But eventually. Once they had the money, I would be a loose end.
A liability. Someone who knew too much and had caused too much trouble, and they would kill me.
Or they would hand me over to Nano, and he would kill me.
Either way, I was dead.
So what’s the point? The thought settled over me like a shroud, cold and final. If I was going to die anyway, at least I could choose how.
At least I could go out on my own terms.
My gaze locked onto Nano again, and this time I didn’t try to look away. His eyes were burning. Feral. The predator barely contained, held back only by Morpheus’ hand on his shoulder and the threat of consequences. But I could see how badly he wanted to break free.
How badly he wanted me.
And God forgive me, I wanted him too. Not because I was brave. Not because I had some death wish. But because at least with Nano, I knew what I was getting. Violence. Pain. The terrible, shameful pleasure that came with being hurt.
It was familiar. It was what I deserved.
“Why?”
My word came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Morpheus’ eyes narrowed. “Why, what?”
I dragged in a breath, my ribs ached, and my throat burned. “Why should I give you the money now? So you can kill me sooner?”
The basement went deathly silent.
Every brother in the room stilled, their attention snapping to me like a physical force. I could feel their eyes. Could feel the weight of their focus, the anticipation crackling in the air. But I didn’t look at them. I kept my gaze locked on Nano. On the man who was going to destroy me.
“I would rather take my chances with him.”
My words hung in the air for a heartbeat.
And then the laughter started.
Low at first. A chuckle from somewhere to my left.
Then another, deeper, rougher. Within seconds, the entire room was laughing.
But it wasn’t the kind of laughter that came from humor.
It was dark. Eerie. The sound of men who had seen terrible things and were about to see more. The sound of anticipation.
“Oh, sweetheart,” someone said. Cerberus, I thought. “You have no idea what you just signed up for.”
“She thinks she can fucking handle Nano,” another voice added, laughter threading through the words. “Bitch is fucking priceless.”
“He’s gonna break her in half,” a man to my right said, his tone flat but laced with something darker. “Gonna choke her out and fuck her while she’s dying.”
“If she’s lucky, he’ll let her pass out first,” another said.
“She’ll be awake for all of it,” someone else finished.
The laughter grew louder, feeding off itself, building into something that made my skin crawl.
They were taunting me. Painting a picture of exactly what Nano would do.
How he would hurt me. How he would use me.
How I would beg him to stop, and he wouldn’t.
“You think you’re tough?” Cerberus said, his voice cutting through the noise. “You think you can take what he’s gonna give you?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was too tight, and my pulse was hammering too hard.
“He’s gonna make you scream,” someone said. “Gonna make you beg. And when you do, he’s gonna fucking choke you harder.”
“Gonna watch you come while you’re dying,” Cerberus added. “And he’s gonna get off on it.”
“And when he’s done,” another voice said, “there won’t be enough left of you to identify.”
The laughter swelled again, cruel and anticipatory. They were enjoying this. Enjoying my defiance. Enjoying the knowledge of what was to come. Because they knew. They all knew what Nano was capable of. What he wanted to do to me. And they were going to let him.
My hands curled into fists against the concrete as my nails bit into my palms hard enough to draw blood.
You should be terrified. You should be begging.
You should—but I wasn’t. I was angry. Angry at them for laughing.
Angry at Morpheus for thinking he could control me with threats.
Angry at myself for being so fucking broken that part of me wanted what they were describing.
And underneath the anger, there was something else.
Defiance.
It was the only thing I had left. The only power in this powerless situation. They could take my freedom. They could take my body. They could take my life. But they couldn’t make me submit.
Not willingly. Not without a fight.
I lifted my chin, my gaze still locked on Nano, holding his stare. His eyes were black. Feral. A predator barely leashed, straining against Morpheus’ restraint. But I didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
“Are you done?” I said; my voice was rough but steady.
The laughter cut off abruptly. Silence crashed down over the room, heavy and oppressive as Morpheus’ expression darkened. “You think this is a joke?”
“No,” I said, my eyes still on Nano. “I think you’re all a bunch of sadistic assholes who get off on scaring women. But I’m not scared of you.”
It was a lie. I was terrified. But I would be damned if I let them see it.
“Not scared?” Cerberus repeated, his tone incredulous. “Sweetheart, you’re shaking so hard you can barely stay upright.”
“That’s not fear,” I said, and hated how true it was. “That’s adrenaline.”
And arousal. And shame. And the terrible, fractured need to be hurt by the man standing across from me. But I didn’t say that part.
Morpheus studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he looked at Nano, clapped him on the back, and smiled. “She’s all yours, brother.”