Chapter 22 #4
We didn't speak. Didn't pray. Just dug until the hole was deep enough, then covered her over and walked away.
The dog story.
The other dog story.
I shove the memory down before it takes root.
On the screen, I'm still whispering.
"You're going to thank me for this. One day. When you understand."
Emmaleen's head drops forward, hair falling across her face. I don’t think she even hears me.
We’re on twenty-six now. The footage continues. Strike after strike. Her voice growing weaker. My expression growing stranger.
Then I stop.
I set the crop down on the floor beside her and kneel. My hands cup her face, tilting her head up so she has to look at me. I'm whispering something.
The audio is too low to catch it clearly, but I see my lips form the words.
"You're mine. You'll always be mine. No one else gets to break you. No one."
She's crying. Silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
And I'm... smiling. Not the controlled, calculated expression I wear in meetings. Not the smirk I use to unsettle people.
Something worse.
Something raw.
I look like a man who's finally found what he's been searching for and doesn't care that it's broken.
I take her into the dungeon bedroom, bathe her, dress her, put her to bed. All the while, talking. Not to her. Not to myself. To the monster.
I fast-forward, looking for what I know comes next. Jino enters the frame.
Emmaleen is curled on the bed, trembling. The welts on her ass and thighs are already darkening into bruises.
Jino gets into bed, pulls her close to him. Comforts her.
He says something I can't hear.
Then louder:
"He went too far."
Emmaleen turns toward him, and even through the grainy footage, I can see the look in her eyes.
Desperate. Seeking.
She wants comfort.
And I wasn't there to give it.
Her voice comes through the speakers, fragile and cracked.
"I love him."
See. She loves you, the monster coos. She likes this. She wants to stay.
The conversation continues. Jino, pathetic. Trying to change her mind about me.
Emmaleen, perfect. Trying to convince him he’s wrong.
"Giovanni is going to ruin you,” Jino finally says. Like he’s playing his trump card. “Maybe even kill you—"
The monster laughs. She's yours. Kill her. That's the only way to guarantee her silence. Use her up. Take her life. Throw her away.
I laugh too.
Out loud.
The sound echoes in the control room, bouncing off the monitors, distorting until it doesn't sound like me anymore.
Then I hear it.
I hear myself and I stop.
My hand grips the armrest hard enough that my knuckles go white.
I'm not going to kill her.
The thought is immediate. Certain.
But the monster doesn't believe me.
You killed Rico. You'll kill her too when it's convenient.
No.
You will.
No. That was the whole point of bringing her here. To save her.
To save her? She’s unworthy of saving. Look at her, Giovanni. She’s walking chaos. You will never be able to trust her. You say this now, but you know you don’t mean it. She needs to go. And go she will. When you’re good and ready, you’ll—
I stand abruptly, the chair rolling backward and slamming into the wall.
My heart is pounding. My breathing is too fast.
I'm not—
I wouldn't—
But the footage is still playing. Emmaleen on screen is berating Jino. Telling him that if I do kill her, it will be his fault for not teaching her how to properly please me.
I feel sick.
See how perfect she is, my monster soothes. See? See? She doesn’t even mind if you kill her. She’s expecting it.
Emmaleen is asking Jino to teach her. Show her what she needs that I can't give her. "Show me what love is. The real thing. Whatever piece I'm missing. Whatever Giovanni's leaving out. Show me, Jino."
Jino hesitates. But Emmaleen takes his hand and guides it between her legs.
It was her, my monster rages. She betrayed you. She needs to go. Kill her, Giovanni. She's a witness to your crimes. She's disloyal. She's a problem with a very easy solution.
But on screen, my little Miss Take is so beautiful when Jino twists her nipple and delivers the pain. I will give her that tonight. I did make a mistake. I did. I will fix it.
"This is the difference," Jino is telling her. "Pain that serves a purpose. That heightens pleasure instead of replacing it."
Jino works her body with the precision of a man who's done this a thousand times. No hesitation. No uncertainty. He knows exactly where to touch, how hard to press, when to stop and when to push further.
Emmaleen arches into his hand, her breathing quickening, her legs falling open without him asking. She comes the first time with a broken cry, her hands fisting in the sheets. And when she's finally still, gasping for air, she whispers:
"More. Everything Giovanni won't give me."
The anger that should be flooding my system doesn't come.
Instead, there's... clarity.
Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Everything Giovanni won't give me. She wants me to love her back. And she knows I can't do it. She didn't need Jino to tell her that. She knows.
And she doesn't care.
Because she's sick—
No, the monster laughs. No. She doesn't care because she's a slut, Giovanni.
She wants to be used. She only exists for your pleasure.
She likes your abuse. She likes the welts and bruises.
Why else would she be here if not to collect your bruises like medals?
Why would she let you strike her last night when she could stop at any moment with a single word?
Her bruises are badges she wears proudly.
They are, aren't they? She does like it. How fucked up is this woman that she likes my abuse?
How fucked up am I that I think what I did was help her?
The footage continues. He eats her out, she loves it. Loves. It. She grinds her pussy all over his face.
Rage brews inside me. The monster is right. It's fucking right. She's a little slut, and he's a traitor!
Jino is talking now, his voice low and measured. Emmaleen is responding, her voice is manic. She's trying to explain her love for me. And how Jino fits into the relationship.
Which is fucking ridiculous.
She insists she needs him to put her back together each morning after I break her each night.
I let out a long breath, sliding my hands up and down my face. What the fuck is this shit? What am I actually doing here?
Then Jino threatens to walk out.
I actually scoff. So much for Mr. I-Care. That's emotional blackmail. Surely, Emmaleen will see right—
She reaches for him. "Don't leave now. Not yet. I'm…" I sigh. "I need you, Jino. I need you to be you so that I can be me."
You've got to be kidding. She fell for it. He's blackmailing her and—
"I need freedom to do whatever I want with your body and mind. Complete control. No restrictions. No boundaries according to Giovanni Bavga’s rules," Jino responds.
The absolute fucking audacity.
"Convince him, and you get what you want. Fail, and you'll never see the inside of my school room again."
He seals it with a kiss and walks out.
The rage surges.
Not just at Emmaleen.
But at Jino too.
He wants permission to fuck her.
He wants to put his cock inside her. Take her. Use her the way I've been denying myself since the moment I brought her into this house.
My hand slams down on the console, killing the feed.
Then I turn toward the dungeon door.
My slave is down there.
And we're going to have a conversation.