Prologue
He’s coming.
At the sound of the footsteps moving overhead, Kiyomi struggled to open her eyes. The lids were so swollen her field of vision was reduced to a single tiny strip on the left side. Fear crawled through her, foreign and terrifying.
Chains rattled as she gingerly turned onto her belly, the manacles around her wrists and ankles biting into her skin as she faced the front of her iron cage. A shadowed staircase stood mere feet away in the dim room. In moments he would appear in the doorway at the top and advance down those stairs.
Her entire body ached from the deep bruises he’d already inflicted all over her. The shimmering gold lamé dress she’d worn to the private party a few nights ago was now torn and filthy.
She shivered, pushed up a bit on her right arm, struggling to overcome the weakness that hung over her like a fog. Through the gloom she was able to make out the shape of the woman lying in the cage next to hers. She was still curled into a ball, appearing not to have changed position since Kiyomi had passed out.
“Hannah,” she whispered, blood trickling over her tongue as the cut in her lip broke open. The other Valkyrie didn’t move or respond in any way. She was probably dead by now.
The unexpected pang of empathy caught Kiyomi off guard. She had come here to kill Hannah because the traitor had killed Kiyomi’s best friend, and had wound up Rahman’s personal captive instead. Now he and his men appeared to have taken care of Hannah for her.
The other Valkyrie’s suffering was over, while Kiyomi’s was only just beginning. She’d betrayed Rahman, made him fall in love with her, and he would make her hurt for it.
The footsteps upstairs drew closer to the door.
Kiyomi’s flesh crawled at the knowledge of what was coming. He wanted to break her. Not just physically. Mentally and emotionally too. He wanted to watch her break, hear her beg him for mercy.
She’d die before she gave him the satisfaction of either.
The door opened. She stayed completely still, gathering her remaining strength to endure what was coming.
His silhouette appeared in the doorway. She squinted when he switched on the lights, the sudden brightness piercing her sore eyes. The door shut and he started down the stairs in slow, measured steps as her eyes adjusted.
He was dressed as he always was. Immaculate in his custom-made suit, his white dress shirt open at the neck and startlingly bright against his bronze skin. He was clean-shaven, his dark hair perfect, swept off his forehead and without a trace of gray in it yet, though he was in his mid-thirties.
“You’re awake. Good.” Satisfaction and anticipation dripped from every word.
He had something in his hand.
She stared at it as he drew nearer, stepping out of the shadows and into the light. Something round.
Then he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward her. Rage and helplessness exploded inside her when she saw what he held.
A coiled bullwhip.
He glanced briefly at Hannah, dismissed her a heartbeat later and turned to stare down at Kiyomi, a half-smile on his handsome face. Shrugging out of his jacket with slow deliberation, he let her see the whip.
“I know what you are,” he said as he came to stand in front of her cage.
Cold rippled through her. He’d seen the brand on her hip. Did he now know what it meant? Or did he just think he did?
He stood there staring down at her for a long moment, his chilling gaze filled with rage and lust as he let the silence drag out. Underscoring the lopsided power dynamic between them. His control pitted against her helplessness.
Revulsion slid through her as she recalled what had passed between them. Him touching her intimately, her pleasuring him all those times, taking him inside, acting the ecstatic lover while she made her mind go elsewhere.
Lying next to him in his bed night after night, waiting for him to reach for her. Playing the role of worshipful sycophant she’d chosen to gain entry into his world in order to get within striking distance of Hannah. All the while, waiting. Waiting.
He’d fallen for it completely, believing she revered him and his body, that she couldn’t get enough of him. That she was falling in love with him.
Then everything had gone horribly, irrevocably wrong.
The terrible memories of her capture four nights ago flashed through her mind as he unlocked the cage door and swung it open.
She forced herself to lie still and not react as he came to stand above her, filled with hatred as she stared up at him through her slitted eye. Only a pathetic coward would chain a woman down so he could beat her.