Page 61 of Diamond Kisses

But…he’d risked his neck to whisper in my ear.

He’d said it with hope instead of mockery.

Christmas is in two days.

What was I supposed to do with that information?

Help plant bombs again?

Light the fuses?

I groaned as a Master struck me particularly deep. A bone-deep slice throbbed over my ribcage hinting he’d split yet another area of my skin.

Heavy footfalls pounded up the steps of the stage. My heartbeat roared in my ears as the man came closer, closer.

Fuck, now what?

My pulse pounded in every wound. My blood poured faster down my legs.

A cruel fist landed in my hair and yanked my head back.

I groaned as the pain in my shoulders compounded.

My vision spluttered as I stared at the decorative painted ceiling, but then my thundering heart stopped as whoever held me whispered into my ear. “Hold on, Mercer. Just…hold on.”

“Ben, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Victor drawled from wherever he sat watching the show.

Ben?

The Master holding me wrenched my head to the side with a sick chuckle. “Just getting in the groove, Vic. Didn’t know I had a violent streak until I started whipping him.”

“You expect me to believe you? You ask for permission with Abigail, you lying prick.” His voice echoed with suspicion. “Don’t take me for a—”

“Abigail is fragile. She’d die if I truly let loose,” Ben snapped. A smile entered his voice. “But Henri is not. I can let myself go without fear of killing him.”

Silence fell for a moment.

I panted as the cuffs cut into my wrists, holding me upright.

Finally, Victor chuckled. “Fine. If you’re finally ready to stop being a pussy, use this.”

Something heavy clattered by my feet as if Victor had tossed something.

“Thanks.” Ben let me go and ducked for it. Swatting me hard across the ass with a leather beaded flogger, he laughed. “Works well.” Hitting me again, he stepped close and whispered, “I hope you still have those cufflinks—”

“Did I say you could talk to him?” Victor snapped. “Hit him or let someone else have a turn.”

Striking me one last time, Ben left without another word.

My legs gave out.

My system couldn’t survive the agonising gush of despair.

Why the hell did Ben mention my cufflinks? The same ones I’d thrown over the wall.

If they’d worked, Q would’ve been here by now—if only to kill me himself.

And even if theydidwork, he was either dead or busy hunting Victor’s men who stole his son.

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