Page 146 of Sinful Bride

“On second thought, my dear…” He licks his cracked lips. “I think you and I should spend a lot of quality time together. Don’t you?”

“She may be a whore, Scott, but we still have standards.” Stewart glares at him, but doesn’t do a damn thing to help me. “I’m gonna ask you to remove your hands from my daughter.”

“You don’t get to ask shit, Hamish. We’re in this mess because of you.”

He finds what he’s looking for: my phone. And when he does, he plucks it out of my pocket and waves it at them mockingly, showing that the call is active. “See? Unlike you, she’s smart. Too smart.”

He throws my phone on the ground and smashes it with his heel.

Shit. There goes that escape route.

“If you had half the brain she does, you would’ve patted her down before running your fucking mouths.”

“But she’s our daughter!” Ophelia stomps her foot, like that will actually do anything. “She’s family!”

“You say that as if it means something!” Brennan laughs and waves his gun at them. “You know what does mean something? Chekhov! She’s not your daughter anymore, you brainless assholes! She’s his wife!”

That shuts them up.

“But why am I surprised? You’re probably the biggest idiots I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Brennan points his gun at Stewart, more conversationally than threateningly. “I mean, come on. You honestly thought you could blackmail a senator and get away with it?”

To be fair, that does sound like something Stewart Hamish would do.

“You know what your worst flaw is?” The former senator shoves his gun under my former father’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head up. “You play your hand way too early. The key to blackmail, you dumbass piece of shit, is to hold onto it as long as fucking possible. But you? You just have to make sure you always feel powerful. It gets you off, doesn’t it? That’s the only reasonable explanation as to why you would do something so mind-blowingly, stupid like telling my wife about my hobbies.”

“I… I…”

“You? You? You what, Stew? You ruined my life! You hear me?” He presses the gun to his temple now, making my father flinch. “You ruined my fucking life! I’ve lost everything! I’ve lost my job, my reputation, my home, my wife?—”

“We can talk to her!” Ophelia pleads. “I’ll talk with her, I swear?—”

Brennan snorts. “You got one of those Ouija boards? She’s dead, you dumb bitch. Talk to her all you want. She’ll tell you all about how I made her beg me for mercy while I enjoyed her one last time. Repayment for the hell she put me through.”

Oh my God. He’s sick.

They’re all sick.

They’re sick in the heads and I’m in way over my own.

Come on, Lev! Pasha! Anyone!

“So, here’s how this is going to go.” Brennan grabs my arm and keeps the gun right next to my ear. “You, Stewart? I’m gonna shoot you in the dick. It’s gonna hurt like hell, and you will bleed out and die, but it will be slow. Unlike you, I know how to enjoy a long wait when it gives me the upper hand.” He shrugs. “Plus, it’ll confuse the cops long enough to keep them busy while I make my getaway.”

He turns to Ophelia. “You? You’re a bit old for my tastes, but you’ve got a pretty decent mouth. If you want any chance of living through this, you’re gonna convince me not to kill you with just how well you can put it to work. Bite me, and I blast your brains out. Understood?”

Ophelia pales.

“And you, my sweet morsel…” He sniffs my hair and groans with sick pleasure. “I’m going to enjoy you. Once your mother is done begging for her life, I’m gonna fuck you right in front of both of them. Make it a true family occasion, am I right?”

I swallow back the bile seeping up my throat. “Pasha is going to kill you. Slowly.”

Brennan chuckles. “You think so? I don’t. Because unlike the idiots who spawned you, I know how to play the long game. As long as I keep you with me, and I keep you alive, he won’t make any stupid moves. He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I don’t kill you. And you’re gonna do the same, understood? Do whatever it takes to make sure I don’t want to kill you.”

His hand wanders to my ass and squeezes when he says that last part.

A large part of me wants to panic. I don’t like being touched, I don’t like being threatened so disgustingly, and I definitely don’t like the way he keeps waving that gun around.

No, Daphne. Remember what he said.

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