Page 84 of Black Heart

He surveys the scene with a cold, assessing gaze, taking in Dawson’s mutilated corpse and my bruised, naked form cradled against Kaden’s blood-soaked chest.

“Brava,” he drawls, still clapping. “Quite the performance. I must say, I’m impressed.”

Kaden tenses, coiling beneath me like a snake tightening its scales.

“Morelli,” he snarls.

Morelli smiles, a razor-blade slash of white. “Hello, Kaden.Or is it Scythe now? I can never keep it straight. It’s been too long.”

His gaze flicks to me, trailing over my nakedness with a proprietary air.

“I must say, when Dawson proposed this little scheme, I had my doubts.” Morelli strolls forward, heedless of the blood and entrails staining his handmade Italian leather shoes.

“But he was right,” Morelli says, his voice gravelly from years of cigars. “Dangling the auction as bait for both of you. It was inspired.” He chuckles, a sound like gravel in a meat grinder. “His present condition notwithstanding. You see, Kaden, in my line of work, you learn to read people. Their weaknesses, their ... pressure points.” His cold eyes flick between Kaden and me, calculating. “I’ve seen empires rise and fall. Built a few myself.” His gaze lifts over my head and snags on Kaden, a cruel smile forming on his lips. “Buried more than a few daughters, too.”

26

LAYLA

Nothing else exists except for Kaden’s frenzy. I’m certain he can’t feel my weight on his lap any longer.

The air I’m sharing with him sizzles with neon hate, years of torment and agony threatening to explode out of his body.

Morelli’s flat gray stare holds Kaden’s, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he savors the anguish etched into every line of Kaden’s face.

“That’s right,” Morelli says, talking slow as if to savor every syllable. “I buried her myself.”

Very carefully, Kaden nudges me aside. I don’t take my eyes off him when I shift off his lap.

As soon as I’m clear, an unnatural roar tears from Kaden’s throat and he lunges, a blade in each hand like talons ready to rip Morelli’s throat out.

But Morelli’s men are faster, appearing out of obscurity and slamming Kaden back against the wall, their guns pressed to his head.

I scream, the sound bursting from my chest, but no one somuch as glances my way. I’m nothing, insignificant in their final showdown.

Kaden’s neck bulges with tendons, his eyes wild and filled with a madness worse than what he possessed when mutilating Dawson.

“I will kill you,” he seethes, his words a blood oath.

Despite Morelli’s too-lean frame and gaunt cheeks, his suit drapes over him like armor. He exudes victory, reveling in the agony he’s inflicting upon his nemesis.

“To think I believe you a mere fly to swat all those years ago,” Morelli muses while Kaden spits hatred. “Little did I know how successful I would be in forging the ultimate thorn in my side. You’ve been after me for some time, Mr. Black. Does it feel good to face me now? With your woman stripped and bleeding, your daughter long gone, and my men’s guns at your temple?” Morelli scans the floor, noting the bits and pieces of Dawson with a slight nose wrinkle. “I see you lost your temper.”

A strangled cry leaves me when one of Morelli’s men yanks me to a stand by my hair.

“Bring her to me,” Morelli commands.

My scalp burns as I’m dragged forward. Morelli’s man drags me to the center of the room, my bare feet slipping in the slick of Dawson’s blood. He positions me in front of Morelli like a human shield, one arm locked around my neck.

My pulse thuds in my ears and each breath saws at my lungs. Fresh tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back in refusal.

Kaden follows it all, straining against the two men holding him against a server tower. A maelstrom of emotions swirl in his cutlass blue depths. Anguish, fury, and beneath it all, terror.

Terror for me.

“Let her go,” Kaden says between his clenched teeth.

Morelli's answering laugh is devoid of humor. “You hurt one of mine. It’s only fair I do the same to one of yours.”

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