Chapter 16
Arcane
The rain taps persistently against the windows, leaving relentless trails as I struggle to process my thoughts as he begins to speak. His voice cuts through the air, yet it’s devoid of remorse or empathy, contrasting with the turmoil within me.
“I can’t tell you I’m sorry because I’m not,” he declares, tone cold and unyielding. I tense, bracing myself for the rest. “I left you and had no choice but to fake my own death because it was necessary for my survival. If I’m dead, there’s no protecting you,” he growls, eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “I needed you alive, regardless of the consequences.”
His confession sends a wave of conflicting emotions I cannot make sense of. Anger radiates from him like a searing heat, but beneath it, I sense the torment churning within his heart of stone. His eyes, though cold, flare with lust, and I’m unsure of how to react as I stare at him.
“Louis García revealed I was his blood and expected me to take over the García cartel after my biological brother died. I couldn’t get back to you—his damn associates kept eyes on me at all times.”
His clenched fists betray his emotions, and I recognize the powerlessness he must have felt in that moment. A man so in control, losing it within a day, watching everything fall apart around him.
“Until Lous García died in a gang war,” Viper concludes. “I should thank the criminal world we live in for ridding me of my remaining biological relatives I never even wanted. But now, I finally have you.”
The hardships he’s faced, the grim truth of being thrust into the underworld as an heir to a notorious family—it’s all too much. My heart aches for him, though he’d kill me if I ever admitted that out loud.
He never died. For years, he’s been in the same town as me without my knowledge. Why didn’t he find me sooner?
Amidst my inner turmoil, I’m anchored to the spot, his eyes roaming over my body as if he can’t get enough. His shirtless form is illuminated by the descending sun outside, chest adorned with tattoos. One stands out—an A —and he catches me staring at it, speechless. Another bears the García family’s mark, while the rest hold significance only to him.
A pang of longing pierces me, and despite sitting before me, he feels a hundred miles away. Years of brutality have led me to this moment: facing the one who inflicted the greatest torment. For years, I sought revenge for his abandonment, but now my world is tilted on its axis.
How do I move on from this? I can’t simply dismiss everything we’ve endured together. A part of me yearns for him, craving him after being deprived for so long. I hate it.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” I ask, my despair vaguely hidden.
After hours of sharing our stories, we’re both emotionally and physically drained. We’ve both faced hardships, but I’m unsure if I can ever truly move past this.
I want to. Oh, do I want to. But can I give myself to him? The way he looks at me suggests I may not have a choice. I don’t know if I should flee again or stay grounded. Perhaps I secretly enjoy the chase.
After a tense silence, he finally responds. “They threatened to harm you if I didn’t comply. You’re my weakness, and they exploited it. It wasn’t until Louis García’s death and my ascension to the throne that I gained the freedom to do whatever I wanted. But don’t worry, I never left your side.”
His words leave me stunned, and before I can reply, he interrupts, eyes hardened and chest heaving.
“I couldn’t shake you from my thoughts, and it was driving me mad!”
Suddenly, he’s on his feet, prowling toward me. I step back, feeling like prey before the predator. He’s always been the one I fear, yet it’s an emotion that ignites a primal heat between my legs.
Before I can process what’s happening, he pins me against the wall with a choking hold.
“Fucking make it stop!” he roars, squeezing harder as I claw at his hand, and yet I feel my lower stomach tingling, drenching my panties.
I remain silent as he pauses, lost in thought. My pulse races as he guides me to a table, pressing me against its surface. I can’t understand his plans.
“Please, Viper. Let’s talk about it,” I plead.
“There’s no talking about it,” he mutters. “I was gone for five goddamn years, and I’ll never get them back. But I have to make amends.”
Reaching for the chains I hadn’t noticed beside the table, he secures my wrists to the table legs, the metallic clinks echoing in the room whilst my back is pressed against the surface. I gasp as he cuts through my panties with a knife, a twisted glint in his eyes. At the sight of the knife, I fight against the restraints while grasping for any semblance of control.
“There’s no running, little sister.”
“The Valentis will know I’m gone!” I insist, hoping to sway his resolve.
“The Valentis are pieces of shit, unworthy of anyone’s trust in the underworld. They’re outcasts with no allies.”
“That’s not true,” I argue, desperation clutching my tone.
“Don’t trust any family in Penumbra Crest. We need to find and destroy the drive to ensure our survival. Understand?”
Uncertainty clouds my judgment. How can I trust him after all this time? Yet, deep down, my soul draws to his in ways it never has with anyone else. It used to be us against everything else, and a part of me longs for that connection again.
When I don’t instantly respond to his subtle question, his hand strikes my breast, causing me to gasp from the unexpected sensation. A cruel smirk dances across his lips as he admires every inch of me, keeping me cuffed and vulnerable.
The cold air brushes my exposed pussy, sending a tremor through me as he unfastens his belt. I stifle the rising panic as he cuts open my shirt with his knife, wondering about his motives.
He tosses aside the torn fabric, and the frigid blade delicately tears through my flesh, blood coating my skin, reminiscent of what he did to my shoulder blade. I quiver against the cool touch of metal. The sensation of being laid open like this overwhelms me, leaving me flushed, especially as he grabs the knife and licks it clean, just as he did with the gun.
“So beautiful, all chained up for your brother’s mercy,” he groans, removing his belt, pants, and boxers, his cock springing free, adorned with two piercings at the top. With the blade pressed against my nipple, I tremble as he glides it gently across my chest to the other, hardening both buds as I lay on top of the table.
He stands between my legs, and I want to close them for protection, but they’re locked up. He leans down, his breath teasing my folds, making my pussy crave his touch.
“Why do you think I’ll work with you again after this?” I ask.
“Because you want revenge just as much as I do for their abandonment,” he grits out as if the thought itself physically pains him.
“Please don’t,” I beg.
“I love it when you beg for me.” Without further notice, he dives between my legs, his tongue licking until I’m arching my back with a hitched breath.
Right before I’m close to coming, he withdraws his mouth, moving to stand before me. His cock points outward as it brushes against my lips.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, cock teasing me.
“No,” I shake my head, uncertain yet too turned on.
“Good,” he smirks. “Swallow your foster brother’s cock.”
Forced to accept him, I part my lips as he thrusts inside. His hand finds my nipple, and from somewhere behind him, he retrieves two nipple clamps, adjusting them onto my buds. Gasping and panting, I’m unable to draw in proper breaths with his cock stuffing my mouth.
“That’s it.”
I can’t resist as he drives his cock deeper into my mouth and throat, making me gag as saliva drips from the corners. With each forceful thrust, he seeks the pleasure he denied me by withholding my release. Moaning around his length, his hand finds my clit, intensifying the sensations as his cock pushes deeper into my throat.
As I approach my climax, his fingers pump inside me at a torturous rate.
“Can you swallow my cum?” he asks, though it’s a rhetorical question.
In the next second, he comes down my throat, fingering me until I’m coming all over his fingers, moans stifled by his cock in my mouth. When he pulls out, I’m breathless, nipples and pussy weeping, coated in sweat and blood.
“Are you more comfortable working on this heist with me now?” he inquires, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but I’m going to do it anyway. For my own sake,” I declare, and he solemnly nods.
I have to work with him, if only for my own peace of mind. Despite the eternal sorrow and anger he’s caused, they have somehow morphed into something else—all because of one person I shouldn’t ever want to see again.
But the thing is, I do want him. No matter how much he’s fucked up, my twisted mind still longs for him.
“Good enough. We should start preparing.”
Resolute in my decision, I nod, steeling myself for the revenge I’ve longed for, though now for entirely different reasons.