Page 165 of The Betrayal

Maybe I didn't leave enough clues? Maybe they're not as clever as they say.

All I want is to sink a bullet between Xavier Archibald and Titus King’s eyes, but maybe I need to threaten them with Arizona.

A smirk pulls at my lips as I knock the rest of my drink back and slam it down on the desk.

Storming out of my office, phone in hand, I head towards her room. Fishing the key from my pocket, I unlock her door and let myself in.

She recoils instantly and I know she will be sore from earlier. I don't care. I am going to break her until she feels so unloved that she crumbles to nothing in front of me before Keaton and Titus can sweep her up into their hands only for her to be so broken nothing will fix her.

What she doesn't realize is I am going to cut those bastards out of her stomach to destroy her once and for all.

“Hello Arizona,” my tone is cold as I walk towards her bed, and she tries to protect herself but it's pointless. She is wrapped in a new hospital gown; the other was destroyed. My lips twitch when I play the memory back and I feel my cock stir in my trousers.

“Get away from me,” she spits, and it lands in my eye. My temper rises but I calm myself down and glide my fingers across my eye, wiping it away.

“Oh, mostriciattola, I will never do that,” I kneel on the bed and grab her cheeks, lowering my lips to hers. “I will do whatever I want to you, do you understand me?” I whisper and I watch as the fear strikes in her eyes. Love that. I am slowly breaking her.

I step back, kneeling off the bed as I slip my phone out of my pocket. I need to send them something that will make their blood boil and I know exactly what.

Undoing her restraints, I pull her to the floor. She's on her knees in front of me and fuck does she look pretty. All teary eyed and bruised from my hands and mouth. She's a picture.

I lean down, pressing my fingers into her cheeks.

“I am going to take a picture of you to send it to daddy dearest, hopefully it'll make them want to find you because honestly, I don't think he wants to.”

She whimpers which makes me smile.

I love that she fears me. I feed off of it. Pushing her away from me, she falls back, and I tut. Leaning down and picking her back on her knees.

The back of my hand connects with her cheek which leaves a pretty mark on her already bruising face.

I grab her chin, tilting her face to look at me as I rub my thumb over her cracked and split bottom lip, cocking my head to the side as I smirk down at her. Pushing my thumb between her lips and into her hot mouth, I lick my lips just as she sinks her teeth into my thumb and bites down, hard.

I roar, ripping it from her mouth and dragging her up by her hair which causes her to cry out.

“Shame it wasn't your dick,” she smiles, blood from her split lip coating her teeth and rage consumes me.

“You little slut,” I slap her round the face again. “I was going to save this for later, but do you know what, I changed my mind.”

I toss her to the bed and my blood is boiling. I storm from the room and root around in my desk drawer for the paperwork. She's fucking made me bleed. Little bitch. She'll pay later for that. Grabbing the pile of papers, I move towards her door and slam it behind me. Hitting the papers down on the side table, I reach across and wrap my fingers around her neck.

“Oh, the restraint it's taking to not fucking strangle you to death.”

She smirks at me which angers me more.

I pull her up by her throat and slam her face down on top of the papers, hoping she has seen Keaton’s signature.

“Now, you nasty little whore, you're going to sign these divorce papers, but not before calling Keaton and telling him you're leaving him. I want him to think you don't love him anymore. Then I will take a photo of you that will degrade you in the worst way and make your dad fucking furious.

She wriggles beneath my hand, but all that does is make me press harder.

“Do you understand me?” She whimpers a yes. “So, fucking, weak,” I laugh as pull her up by her hair. “And just so you know, if your babies are still alive, I’m cutting the little bastards out of you. After all, they're half mine so I get a choice too.”

Her eyes widen.

“They're Keaton's,” she goads me.

“Are they? Because the DNA results said different,” and I see the way she pales.

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