Page 84 of Stiletto's Savior

I stare, waiting for him to move, but he groans instead.

Zane rushes up and grabs him by the throat.

With a violent shove, he sends him sprawling across the room.

The thud echoes like a gunshot and The Commander screams out in pain.

“You’re gonna pay for everything you’ve done to my club,” Zane snarls, rage radiating from him like heat off asphalt.

“Fuck with my business, huh? Tried to kill my kid?” He steps forward, towering over The Commander, who now scrambles on the floor, fear etched into every feature.

“Shot one of my prospects,” Zane continues, his voice a low growl, “kidnapped and raped another. Cost me fucking money.” Each word is a hammer striking home. “Not only am I making an example out of you, I’m taking your business too.”

I feel the tension in the air, electric, ready to snap.

Zane glances back at me, eyes ablaze.

He waves me over, and instinct pulls me forward.

In his hand is a brand new hunting blade—gleaming, sharp, deadly.

“Cut him where you want. I’ve said everything I need to say.” Zane says, his tone almost casual, but the weight of it hangs heavy between us.

I take the knife, the cold metal biting into my palm.

The Commander stares up at me, eyes wide, pleading. “Please... don’t...”

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, my voice steady, cutting through the air.

I step closer, the blade reflecting the dim light.

“Where do I start?” I ask myself, but the answer comes quick.

With a swift motion, I bring the knife down hard.

A scream rips through the air as I sever his dick.

Blood splatters, warm against my skin.

The color drains from his face, eyes bulging in shock.

“Help me!” he gasps, panic rising like bile.

“Help?” I echo, the taste of iron filling my mouth. “You think you deserve help?”

He convulses, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

With a final slice, I cut off his balls.

His screams pierce the walls, raw and desperate.

“You’re gonna suffer slowly until your last breath,” I say, watching the realization dawn on him.

Zane stands beside me, satisfaction twisting his lips.

The room feels alive with our fury, a twisted symphony of pain and vengeance.

And we’re just getting started.

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