Page 217 of Bishop

She glowers with the feistiness of a broken dog—all rigid backbone, but no fight left to give as she hangs her head in shame. “Five-eight-seven-nine.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard. And I bet it took a lot less convincing than you thought it would.”

She sniffs. Heaves for more breath.

Don’t tell me this bitch is about to cry.

“It’s okay.” I take in the glorious sight of her downfall, enjoying it for all those who deserve to bear witness. “We still have a long way to go. You might gain your second wind and have the balls to withstand a round of waterboarding. I will admit it’s a specialty though.”

She bounds forward to her hands and knees and spits, the saliva hitting my jacket lapel to dribble down my chest.

I stand tall, giving her a few moments to deal with her humiliation, simply staring at her with superiority. “I’m a man on the verge of breaking, Adena. So keep that in mind if you have the urge to disrespect me again.”

“You’re nothing but Lorenzo’s dog on a leash,” she mutters.

“Maybe.” At least I was a week ago. “But the ties meant to hold violent animals tend to wither and fray over time. Especially when those beasts have been left to feast on the atrocities of their enemies.” I smile, slight, not enough to tweak the now broken stitches in my cheek. “I want nothing more than to kill you. I’ve dreamt about it every day since I found out you were responsible for your daughter’s trauma—”

“You mean nothing to her. No man ever will.”

“Believe me, I’ve told myself the same thing. But funnily enough, it doesn’t stop me wanting to avenge her suffering.” I reach out, enjoying the way Adena flinches when I drag my knuckles over the dark red marks I’ve created on her wrinkled neck. “Now are you going to tell me the password to your online bank account, or do I get to have more fun?”

Her sneer returns, her animosity short-lived.

It takes another nine minutes to break her completely. Then her secrets flow like a stream, matching the tears cascading down her cheeks.

I make sure she verbalizes every password, every pin code, every secret so Lorenzo has it recorded on his surveillance for future reference.

Then I leave her there, sobbing on the flimsy bed, the room smelling like sweat and desperation.

I’m not surprised to hear Lorenzo’s walking stick thudding against the tile from the kitchen as I stalk toward the front door.

He doesn’t deserve a goodbye. As far as I’m concerned, we’re still at odds even though he kept to his end of the bargain and allowed me to torment Adena without intervention.

“Wait.” He enters the hall through the archway to the open living area and blocks my path. “Was that necessary?”

“I’ve never been in the business of leniency. But I followed your rules. I didn’t draw blood.”

He scowls, the hard eyes of the only father I’ve known staring back at me with disappointment. “You made it personal.”

“Of course I made it fucking personal. She dragged your niece through hell and attempted to kill her own grandchild. She deserves to suffer.”

He raises his chin, a brow hiking along with it. “It’s confusing to me that you refer to her as my niece and not your future bride. It’s also telling that your ferocity downstairs seemed entirely on Abri’s behalf and not because of the gunshot wound to your face. Yet I’m told you’ve made no attempt to speak to my niece since Denver.”

Fucking Langston and his big fucking mouth.

I step forward, giving him a derisive clap on the upper arm. “I’m not talking about her with you.”

“Yes, you will. We need to discuss your marriage.”

I drop my hold and walk around him. “Abri is her own woman. She will choose her own fate. And I’m a man now fully grasping my freedom. If you have a problem with that I suggest you train your fledglings a little longer before you plan my punishment because none of the men you currently have stand a chance against me.”

“Bishop,” he growls. “I know you’ve been watching her.”

Motherfucking Langston.

“Bishop,” he snaps.

“What?” I stop before the towering front doors and shoot him a glare.

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