Page 10 of Brutal Empire

It felt like time had stopped. My chest was rising and falling; my body felt as if I had run a marathon. I brought my hands in front of me so I could see them free of the shackles that held them. The moment my fingertips touched my cheeks, I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry anymore. I was tired of crying, of begging, since it never did any good. If anything, all it did was fuel my master’s lust.

Once I gathered my composure, I rubbed my raw wrists. The chafing of the skin no longer reminded me of captivity but of my freedom. There was a powerful feeling in taking control of something that used to terrify you.

I was free.

I was no longer at his mercy.

“You did not break me, Xander.” I whispered the name I was so terrified to say aloud to an empty room. His name didn’t hold the same weight anymore. I didn’t shiver from fear. I could only hope to face him and have him fear me one day, when my name would make him crippled with terror.

I was tainted.

I was abandoned.

I was forgotten, but I was not broken.

I felt reborn. I was stronger, for I was forged in hell’s fire.

“Bailey.” He said my name through half-mast eyes. “You shouldn’t have come.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. It was that boy from before, but he said a name this time as he looked at me.

In this dark room, I was sure of two things. The first thing I would do was to take that mission, and the second would be to get revenge on everyone who had ever harmed me.

Too bad for them, I was turned into a monster, and this monster was going to claw out their hearts.

After a few moments to get my composure together, I finally stood. Now that the adrenaline had finally left me, the past few days had caught up to me. I needed water and something light to eat. If I was going to go away, I needed to prepare my body.

I made my way up the stairs, and before I opened the door, I took a deep breath. The light blinded me—the windows were open, and the daylight had never looked so beautiful.

Making my way to the kitchen, I halted when I saw them sitting around the table.

“How does freedom taste?” Daphne asked. Those steel eyes shone even brighter than before.

Gideon, her boyfriend, slid a cup of water my way. I appreciated that he knew not to get too close to me.

I reached for the cup, and my hands shook as I brought it to my lips. I should have been embarrassed by how the water spilled, but I didn’t care.

Fear didn’t have to rule my life.

“How did you get me down there?” I asked once I felt like I could talk.

Daphne’s face was stoic, but her boyfriend smirked.

“She tranquilized your arse and then had me carry you down.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Then again, this was the same woman who had stabbed, poisoned, and shot me.

“When do I leave?” I asked next.

“Sit down,” she commanded.

The moment I sat down, she stood up and threw a manila folder my way. I looked at it for a second, knowing that the moment I touched it, everything would change. The safety net that had surrounded me for the last four years would be gone.

That was the beauty of freedom, wasn’t it? To choose what you wanted. Even if it turned out to be a mistake, at least you had the comfort of knowing you chose it for yourself and no one else did.

Reaching for those papers, I felt the weight of that decision, and for the first time in forever, I felt like I could handle it.

Inside the folder, there were pictures. Three immediately stood out. One was of a woman. She was smiling at the camera. Tan skin and brown hair that was naturally curly. The other was of a man that looked like he was angry, and the iciness of his stare shone through the image. In the last one, the man wasn’t necessarily smiling at the camera, but you could tell he looked at ease. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes were so dark they appeared black.

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