Page 47 of Brutal Empire

That was all the guys said, and somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. The two men went back to speaking in Spanish, and the only word I could pick up was “principe,” which I figured meant prince.

“Cam.”

“Angel.”

This time, I blinked, and the room came back into view. When I met Bastian’s eyes, it was brief, but it was there. Fear was in his eyes, and I didn’t know why.

“I was bought from an auction,” I whispered.

TWENTY-ONE

She remembered.

As I watched her, I kept my breathing even like I was taught years ago so no one would be able to know I was rattled.

“What did you remember?” I asked in a soft voice that years of practice allowed me to maintain.

As we grow up, we learn to wear a mask. You grow out of childhood, and that mask sets in like a second skin. Some do it to protect themselves from others, while others do it to lure people to them. My mask was my ultimate poker face. It kept people from looking too deep into what made me tick. When people thought they had you figured out, they didn’t bother to go skin-deep since the surface told them everything—or so they thought.

My surface was made of lies. My insides were full of pain. And I bled of deception.

The more time I spent with Cam, the more everything began to fuck with my head. Not even when I was searching for Katia did I have such a hard time.

Cam turned her face from me, and I breathed easier, even if I didn’t like it when her gaze wasn’t on me.

“I remember being in a white dress, being kept away from everyone else because my virginity had already been bought.”

“Is that all you remember?” I prodded.

Her head slowly turned as she began to stand straighter. “All my pieces are finally coming together. Soon, I will know exactly whose blood I’ll have on my hands.”

Of that, I had no doubt.

A proud smile escaped my lips, which I used to steer the conversation back to my plan. I ran a few things by Daphne, and it was enough to make me feel confident about the move I was about to make.

She left right away, and even if she didn’t tell me, I knew there was something that was haunting her. I didn’t even bother to ask because she would speak of it when she was ready if she ever decided to divulge.

“In one month, you’ll have Yates.”

Her eyes sparked and came to life, and God, what I would give to be able to watch her exact her vengeance.

“One month?” She repeated the words as if tasting them made them real.

“One month from today will be the last Friday of the month.”

Her nostrils flared. She knew what that meant. I knew it was at one of those parties where Daphne had found her. Because Yates had a party once a month so all his fucked-up little friends could go and sin at his mansion. It was the one time a month he let others share his little pets.

My fists curled of their own accord. I wanted the bastard to pay, and he would. Once Damian was dealt with, Yates would get what was coming to him. My coffin would already be made by then, giving free rein to my angel to cause havoc in her wake.

“While I was in pain, t-t-hat monster was still throwing parties. He was still fucking and laughing as if he never ripped me apart and left me in pieces, begging for him to kill me.”

She was opening up to me, and it was the most beautiful kind of pain. The way she hated everything, sometimes even herself, but she used that weight as a stepping stone to try and reach for more.

“And now he will be the one begging you for mercy.”

In my comment, something unexpected happened. Something I didn’t think I would get to witness so soon, but fuck if I didn’t cherish it. She smiled, and it was terrifying as it was beautiful. Those lips dripped with venom, and I wanted nothing more than to lean in and taste every single drop until it fucking killed me.

“I’m ready to leave for Chicago when you are.”

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