Page 40 of Ruthless Desire

"Keep dreaming, you psychotic fuck," Natalie snarls, but the blow is softened by the audible hitch in her voice. "I'll die before I ever beg for you."

"Brave words from a little raven backed into a corner," I chuckle darkly. My hands skim her curves, seeking skin and finding flimsy cotton instead. "But bravery and stupidity are often confused. Care to guess which one you're exercising now?"

She tries to twist away with an affronted hiss, but I anchor her in place with bruising fingers. Leaning close, I let my next words drip like honey into the shell of her ear.

"I have a surprise for you, moy voronenok. A little reminder of what happens to those who forget their place."

On cue, a sharp rap sounds at the door. I feel Natalie freeze, a rabbit who's scented the wolf pack circling near.

"Ah, and here it is now. Shall we greet our guests, sweet Natalie?"

I don't wait for a response, dragging her down the hall with measured ruthlessness. In the foyer, Alonzo waits with Marco and his delivery - two bound figures who reek of the fighting pits, their bloodied hoods leaving no question as to their occupations or fates.

"As requested, Boss," Marco says, shoving the captives to their knees. "Fresh from the Petrov's kennels."

Beside me, my dark seraphim has gone pale as chalk, horror and understanding blooming like black roses across her face.

"Dante..." Her voice trembles, a broken chord in the taut, awful silence. "What have you done?"

"No more than what is necessary. You need to remember, moy voronenok - this is my world, my rules. And all who defy me will be made to regret it."

With a snap of my fingers, the prisoners' shrouds are ripped away, revealing faces turned ghastly in the low light. One gazes up at us with resignation, dark eyes hollowed by too many blows to the head. The other, a shaggy blond brute, bares his teeth like a rabid beast, spitting curses in guttural Russian.

"Filthy swine!" he slurs, straining against his bonds. "I'll piss on your grave, you arrogant ????!"

I release Natalie long enough to crouch before this belligerent mongrel, my blood humming with a familiar dark thrill. "You kiss your mother with that mouth? Or is she too busy walking the streets for food scraps?"

The insult earns me a bestial roar as the Russian lunges for me, his chains snapping taut. I laugh, cold and pitiless.

"You Petrov lackeys are all the same - too stupid to know when you're beaten. But don't worry, ?????. I'm going to educate you on what real submission looks like."

I rise, letting menace roll off me in palpable waves. Glancing back at my shell-shocked queen, I beckon her forward with a crook of my finger.

"Come, moy voronenok. It's time for you to see the fate of all who cross me. The symphony of screams I can conduct with just a flick of my wrist."

Natalie remains rooted in place, defiance and dread warring across her exquisite features. I sigh, affecting a pout.

"Don't make me tell you twice, sweet thing. You know how I hate to be disobeyed."

Slowly, she inches closer, each step heavy with the weight of understanding. Good. Let the lesson sink bone-deep.

I reach for her, dragging her tight to my side, relishing the way she fits against me even as she tries to cringe away.

"Now, zaichik, let's play a little game, shall we?" I purr, staring down the blond thug whose spewing vitriol has escalated to a froth.

"You get to choose which piece the good D'yadya here loses first - an ear, a finger, or perhaps those insolent blue eyes?"

Natalie quakes like a leaf, strangled sounds of negation lodged in her throat. I tighten my grip, fingers biting into her tender flesh hard enough to mottle.

"Tick tock, solnyshko. If you don't decide, I will. And trust me..." I flash her a smile as cutting as the blades strapped to my forearms. "I won't be nearly as merciful as you."

Tears track slowly down her cheeks, each one a glittering testament to the fragile fissures spiderwebbing her resolve. I hunger to lick them from her skin, savor the salt-sting of her dawning capitulation.

"Please, Dante," she whispers, barely audible above the Russian's raggedly barking. "You don't have to do this. You've already proven your point a thousand times over."

I tut, catching her chin in an iron grip, forcing her to meet my fathomless gaze.

"Oh, but I do, Natalie. You still don't comprehend the depths of my depravity. The endless lengths I will go to to secure my kingdom." I lean in, ghosting my lips across the trembling seam of her mouth. "And you, my wicked jewel, are the crowning glory in my dark realm. A glory I will slaughter a thousand men to keep."

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