Page 69 of Ruthless Kings of Havoc

“The truth hurts, but yes,” I admit.

She laughs while trying to blink away more tears that try to form. I can only imagine what she’s truly feeling right now.

“You know, I was pretty good with a knife way back then,” she argues. “Long-distance running was the death of me, but getting a man in a chokehold with a knife against his flesh was my favorite move to unleash. Leaves men flabbergasted every single time.”

I’m too stunned to envision it, which makes her giggle and give me a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve almost died three times. The first two times happened during my time as a Ruthless Maiden. The final close call was giving birth to you,” she confesses and takes another sip of her tea. “They never really emphasize how dangerous childbirth is when your body is so frail. Would have liked the warning ahead of time, but alas. My pregnancy wasn’t planned in the slightest.”

“Do you regret having me?” I don’t know why I ask such a raw question, but it leaves my lips before I can comprehend it.

“Never.” The way she says that single word sends goosebumps along my flesh because I know wholeheartedly she means it. “You’re probably the only reason why we’re somewhat together now.”

“How so?” It’s a bit amusing trying to think how I could be the glue when I’ve felt unwanted. “I mean, I was the ‘orphan,’ right? My birth father doesn’t want me. Prescott took me in probably out of pity, and well… here we are. Having a conversation alone together since… I don’t even remember.”

The sadness in her eyes is back as she slowly nods her head.

“Leighton doesn’t hate you.”

“He hates me enough to want to abuse me,” I mutter under my breath, not realizing just how stupid that was. It leaves me instillness for a few seconds as I bite my lip in defeat at that slip-up.

Fuck…

Hesitantly, I look up, ready to see her distraught or maybe the anger that would ensue at me, “flawlessly” accusing her love of such actions, but her expression is stoic.

Which means…

“You know, or you knew?” I offer and try to ignore the slight quiver in my voice. I shouldn’t assume this is a form of betrayal, but it’s growing trickier by the second as I stare at her emotionless gaze.

“I found out,” she answers slowly. “So, I knew after it happened.”

“And?”

“He paid for it.”

“How so?” My accusing tone is harsh. “Allowing his son to bully me like some rag doll, then take his turn trying to ruin my life? As if being born and discarded wasn’t hard enough to ‘suck up’ and survive those years of constant torment and ridicule.”

“I cut off his finger.”

The words of insults were ready to leave my lips deflate not a second later.

“What?” I don’t understand. “He has five fingers.”

“Sort of,” she mutters. “Human technology matched with borrowed flesh can work marvelously in these times.” She doesn’t sound a bit disgusted by the idea. “Leighton’s ring is rather thick for a wedding band, don’t you think?”

I’ve questioned that once as a child, but you don’t pay attention to a man who makes you want to stay as far from their mansion as you can.

“Yes.”

“When I found out he abused you that way, I put him in a room, tortured him for a week, and made him decide whetherto cut his cock off or his ring finger,” she announces. “You can guess which one he decided would be the better sacrifice.”

I want to speak.

To say what’s bouncing in my head.

Yet, I close my mouth.

Shit… should have used that tactic on Domino to get what I want.

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