Page 112 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

The dread and tension are back as Flex lifts his trembling hands toward Domino’s buckle. The silence is almost unbearable as I listen to Flex’s uneven breathing while he struggles not to sob.

Domino, on the other hand, is breathing far too loudly. I can see with every second that passes that he’s questioning whether this is all worth it. That his stubbornness will somehow get him out of Matteo’s resolve to let him experience exactly what I was put through.

When Flex grips the edge of Domino’s belt, I hold my breath. The stillness in the room is far too notable, as everyone seems to be waiting for some sort of miracle.

An interruption? A spoken resolve. An admission of defeat. Anything that will make this form of humiliation end.

“Precious.” My heart hammers against my chest as Matteo’s soft whisper tickles the side of my neck. “If you tell me to stop, I will,” Matteo offers, encouraging Flex to pause as he’s seconds from tugging at the leather Gucci belt.

All eyes are on me.

I don’t need to acknowledge the reality with my line of vision. I feel the brewing pressure, which grows rapidly. This is the opportunity to give this man some mercy.

It’s tempting.

No. It would have been tempting if Domino had been a better person.

The reality is… he isn’t.

For a brief second, I look at the man I wished would earn a chance at redemption. Thinking that maybe by abiding by his wants—his desperate needs—I could change him.

Leading him down a ruthless path that delivered punishment to those who deserved it while sparing the innocent. I guess that had to be what I wished for him in the depths of my mind while I paid my debt.

Only he failed me.

He proved that in this world, only the powerful get a chance to force the world to bow to their feet. That everyone is but a number unless you’re suddenly deemed valuable.

This man was willing to watch me perish, even with my own hands, if it catapulted him forward until he enjoyed words of gratification from his father.Our Father.He sought praise and to gain the Empire he never worked hard for.

Domino Leighton doesn’t see this as the game it is. Doesn’t acknowledge the constant risks with every move that’s taken. There’s no care about whether the next play will be his last.

All he cares about is his victory.

That’s what makes me swallow the lump that was forming in my throat as I peer around the table to catch glimpses of Zander, Ares, and Aries.

They all carry neutral expressions, but their eyes all tell me the same thing.

No remorse.

No mercy.

No acts of kindness to the wicked.

When I look at Marcus, I’m surprised by his expression.

A grin.

It’s sly. Almost diabolical, in an odd sense.

He’s sitting at the perfect angle because Domino would never see the way his lips are lifted in satisfaction, but it makes me question where his loyalty lies.

No. What’s his true purpose for being here?

I remember him. He’s important in some way, but it’s on the tip of my tongue. Right now, it’s not even of priority, but I make a mental note to emphasize that his entrance into this brewing competition must have a significant purpose.

Or else he wouldn’t be gleeful about Domino’s suffering.

That allows me to have enough time to make my decision.

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