Page 44 of Wicked King

A muffled grunt catches my attention, and I quicken my steps to the back of the store. A door is ajar, and a stifled male voice seeps through the crack. Barreling through the door, I find Lei, already bloody and beaten, shackled to a chair in some sort of abandoned stockroom. Dozens of tiny cuts litter his pale chest and his shirt lies in a pool of blood on the floor. His weary eyes lift to mine, and he mumbles something, but with the gag across his mouth I can’t make out a word.

“Let him speak,” I bark.

Marco looms behind me, his dark presence blanketing me in a burgeoning strength I didn’t expect. A man slips out of the shadows, ink tattooed across every inch of exposed flesh, and his eyes raise over my shoulder to the big Italian behind me.

“Do it, Jimmy,” Marco mutters.

The male’s lips twist in disapproval, but he moves behind Lei all the same and begins to loosen the gag. The ring of black fabric falls around his throat like a necklace—or maybe more accurately, a noose.

“I did not do this, laodà, I swear to you!” A trickle of blood drips from the corner of his lip.

“That’s what he’s been saying since I grabbed him.” This Jimmy guy shrugs and circles Lei. Beside the chair sits a small table covered in tools of our dark trade. Growing up in a household where torture was commonplace, I don’t balk at the weapons. Each blade is spotted in droplets of dried crimson, including the brass knuckles my fiancé is currently eyeing.

Marco reaches for the glinting metal and slides them over his fingers. “Let’s see if I can’t get a different response out of him.” His gaze slants to mine, and I nod. Though I’ve heard the effects of torture, been subjected to the screams ricocheting around my home since I was a child, I’ve never witnessed it in person.

A strange tangle of dread and excitement whips around my insides as Marco inches toward Lei.

“Should I gag him again, boss?” Jimmy’s shifty eyes lift from his bruised knuckles.

“No,” I interject. “I want to hear him.”

“Laodà, please, I beg of you, I am one of your own. The blood of the Four Seas runs through my veins, much like yours. Do not allow this stranger to disrespect what your grandfather built.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and slowly shake my head. “Do it, Marco,” I hiss.

The crack of bone against flesh snaps my eyes open. Lei’s head hangs back, a bloodied gash across his cheek. Marco pulls his arm back and swings again. Blood spurts across his dark shirt, soaking the material as he makes contact, splitting Lei’s lip.

Marco creeps closer, his broad form towering over my brother’s best friend. “Now, tell us again, Lei, did you send that man to Jia’s home?” he growls.

“No…” He spits and blood coats the grimy tile floor. “I already told you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Marco snarls before he lets his fist loose again. Bones crack and a sharp cry bursts from Lei’s lips. There’s no doubt in my mind that my fiancé has broken his nose.

“Why would I want to kill you, Jia?” Lei’s unfocused gaze meets mine. “I’ve wanted you since we were children.”

My head snaps back as if his words had delivered a punch.

“Why do you think I requested a change in the rules? I only wanted to be with you.”

“Then why did you send those men to break into my boutique?” The question erupts before I can stop it. It was as if he knew exactly how to get to me and what would hurt the most.

“I only wanted to scare you, so that you’d make the right decision.”

“You wanted to frighten me into submission?” Anger curls my fists at my sides, and I’m seconds away from punching the asshole myself. “That’s the problem with men like you, Lei, you think you can get what you want by bullying others. I will never succumb to you, to any male.”

A wry grin curls his lip, and already, I regret that slip of the tongue. “Like your fiancé?” His eyes lock on Marco’s, and he spits again. If the Italian mob boss wasn’t so quick on his feet, the smattering of blood and saliva would’ve landed on his shiny loafers.

Marco’s hand snakes out and wraps around Lei’s throat. “Watch your mouth, coglione. The only reason you are still alive is because my fiancée wishes it.”

A harsh laugh bubbles from Lei’s mouth, and more crimson-coated spit dribbles out. “You seriously believe he will allow you to rule the Four Seas?”

“Yes,” I grit out.

“Then perhaps you are not as wise as your grandfather believes.”

Rage simmers through my veins, and darkness creeps into the corners of my soul.

“You will spend the rest of your life as a pawn for the Italian mafia, and you will take all of us down with you. You will never be the true laodà, but rather only a female to warm the bed of a powerful man. That is your destiny, Jia, nothing more.”

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