Page 42 of Throttle All the Way

I cut her off with a slap, the sound echoing like a gunshot. “That’s enough,” I said, returning the phone to my ear. “She’s feisty, isn’t she? But I’ll break her soon enough.”

“If you touch her again, I am going to rip?—”

“You’ll what?” I interrupted, my voice dripping with mockery. “Storm in here like the hero in some pathetic fairy tale? Let’s be honest, Cipher. You’re no savior. You’re just another pawn in this game I’ve created.”

Mila’s breath came out in a broken whisper, the weight of the moment dragging her voice into something small and fragile. “Noel...” she murmured, her voice cracking on his name.

I smiled. “Jesus Christ, Mila,” he breathed, and the rage in his tone faltered, replaced by something sharper, deeper—fear. “Are you hurt? Did he?—”

“She’s quite intact,” I interjected smoothly, though the amusement in my voice darkened. "For now. Whether or not that remains the case... well, that’s entirely up to you."

“What do you want?” Noel demanded again, his voice a growl that barely masked his desperation.

I grinned, the thrill of control coursing through me like fire. “That’s the right question,” I purred. “And we’ll get to that, Noel. But first, I want you to understand something.”

I shifted, swinging Mila closer. Her breath hitched as I pressed the cold barrel of a gun against her temple. She stiffened, her tears spilling over, her fear palpable.

“Do you hear that, Noel?” I murmured into the phone, my voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "That’s the sound of your precious whore realizing just how much of her fate lies in my hands. And the sooner you come to terms with that, the better."

The line crackled with silence, and for the first time, I heard it—the quiet, deadly resolve in the Bastard’s voice. "You forget yourself, you Russian piece of crap.”

“Is that right?” I chuckled.

“Detectives follow rules, but Royal Bastards’...we have no rules when it comes to protecting one of ours. If you touch her—if you harm one hair on her head—I will tear you apart, limb by limb, with my bare hands."

I laughed, a cruel, cutting sound. "Oh, I’m counting on it, biker. Let’s see if your knightly heart can save her before it’s too late."

"I ended the call, savoring the frustration and desperation in his voice. Turning back to Mila, I crouched in front of her, tracing a finger along her bloodied cheek.

“He’ll come for you,” I said softly, almost tenderly. “And when he does, I’ll make him watch as I destroy you.”

Her eyes, though filled with tears, burned with defiance. “You’ll never win,” she whispered.

I smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “Oh, my pet. I already have.”

CIPHER

The phone clicked off, and I stood there, gripping it so hard my knuckles turned white. Volkov’s laughter still echoed in my head, a twisted melody of control and cruelty. The bastard wanted to make sure I knew he held all the cards, but he underestimated one thing: when I played, I didn’t play by the rules.

I tossed the phone onto the counter and leaned on it, my breath coming in sharp bursts. My badge, glinting under the dim light of the lamp, caught my eye. It felt like a huge weight on my shoulders. Justice wouldn’t save Mila, not this time. No, this wasn’t about the law. This was about retribution.

"Cipher?" Aiyana’s voice cut through the damning thoughts raging in my head. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, her dark eyes scanning my face with concern. She knew me better than anyone, knew the shift happening inside me.

“It’s Volkov,” I said, my voice low, almost a growl. “He has Mila.”

Aiyana’s jaw tightened, and the worry in her eyes hardened into determination. “What are you thinking?”

I reached for my leather jacket, the familiar weight of it grounding me as I shrugged it on. The patch on the back—RoyalBastards MC—caught the light, a complete contrast to the badge I carried. Without hesitation, I unclipped the badge from my belt and placed it beside the phone.

“The plan is simple,” I said, meeting her gaze. “We bring Bulldog in. This isn’t a cop’s fight anymore. This is family business.”

Her eyes widened as she realized this wasn’t a fight she was prepared for, but the fire in her eyes mirrored the one blazing in my chest. She nodded. “You’re not going in alone.”

“Forget it,” I rounded my desk, heading for the door. “You;re staying here.”

“The hell I will.”

“Bulldog will never forgive me for bringing you in.”

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