Page 2 of Beautiful Vengeance

And that’s exactly what Fayez Rahman was, even if he wasn’t stupid. Because he knew if she hadn’t been chained, she would kill him.

He was even more afraid of her than he was obsessed with her. And his fear was the only comfort she had in this terrible, desolate moment.

“I’m going to send you back to your maker.” An evil smirk split his face, the outline of an erection pressing against the front of his pants. “The one who created you.”

She braced for the pain and stared defiantly up into those dark, cruel eyes, refusing to cower or let him think he’d won. His taunting words were an empty threat. He wouldn’t kill her. He was too afraid of the wealthy buyer he had lined up for her to do that, the one he’d taunted her with for the past three days. The Architect.

Anything short of death, she could handle. She had no other choice.

Her training kicked in. The only thing stopping her from cowering now.

You’re a Valkyrie. You can take this. Separate your mind and body. Don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting, no matter what he does.

Rahman relaxed his fist, allowing the long tail of the bullwhip to touch the concrete floor. He gave a deliberate flick of his wrist, making the leather slither back and forth over the concrete like a snake ready to strike. Then he raised his arm, lifting the braided handle high.

Kiyomi clenched her teeth to keep from crying out as it snapped across the skin between her shoulder blades. Fire raced along her nerve endings.

She sucked in a breath and tensed, clenching her teeth and fists as she awaited the next blow. She fought to stay above the pain, to let her mind float free. But as she did, she made a vow to herself.

You will not break me. But one day, I’ll kill you for this.

Someday, she would stare down into those evil, dark eyes. She would watch his triumph turn to shock and then abject terror just before she snuffed the life from him.

Chapter One

Bitchilantes Ride Or Die

November fifth—Bonfire Night. His least favorite night of the year.

Marcus leaned forward in his tufted leather desk chair to pull up last night’s security feeds, focusing on the cameras posted on the gatehouse and along a section of fence that ran parallel to the road in front of his property. For the past three nights the annual ritual of teenage boys setting off firecrackers had started up soon after darkness fell, and continued until nearly midnight.

As a combat veteran who had survived captivity and torture, fireworks and other explosives going off always set him on edge, not to mention they also spooked his dog and horses. This year, it was far more than that.

The teenagers didn’t know it, but he had a house full of lethal operatives staying here at Laidlaw Hall, and given the current threat against them all, everyone was on edge.

Despite all the team’s efforts in searching for a lead on their number one suspect, no one yet knew who the Architect was—the person thought to be behind the massive operation to kill all remaining Valkyrie operatives. After the clandestine CIA program was exposed and disbanded due to the media attention after one of its former trainers had been sent to trial for his crimes, all surviving Valkyries had become targets.

The Architect had power, resources, and remained a lethal threat to them all. With the search ongoing, security here had been tightened. The team was now taking two-person shifts to watch for threats anywhere near the property.

Given all of that, Bonfire Night couldn’t have come at a worse time for them. With every banger those teens set off, they were unknowingly playing with fire.

On screen he watched a trio of boys ranging in age from about fourteen to seventeen or so cruise up the gravel road running in front of the property on their bikes. They paused near the front gate, lit a handful of fireworks and threw them toward the gatehouse, just as Megan and Ty had reported at the time.

A part of Marcus was still convinced that the faceless enemy stalking his guests might try to attack tonight, using the fireworks to camouflage their initial attack. At the same time he told himself he was just being a paranoid bastard.

There was no indication whatsoever that anyone had discovered Laidlaw Hall was now Valkyrie headquarters. On the off chance he was wrong, everyone here was on alert and doing patrols, making sure the premises remained secure, him most of all. This was his home. He considered it his responsibility to keep everyone here safe.

After watching the video and checking the other feeds from around the property, he grabbed his cane and stood, the familiar stiffness and pain in his left hip and thigh making him pause for a moment. “Karas.”

His rescue Anatolian Shepherd rolled from her side onto her belly and looked up at him expectantly from her cozy bed in front of the fireplace.

“Come.” He started for the study door, Karas right behind him. “We’ve got work to do.”

The house was quiet, all nine team members currently staying here each working on their assigned tasks. Everything was as he’d left it in the kitchen hours before, the smell of the roast already permeating the air.

He strode out the back door into the formal garden and up the gravel path, past the stables to where he kept his ATV. Karas hopped into the front seat beside him, ears perked, and they started off over the pasture where he and a couple of the lads had piled some lumber last night.

After constructing the big bonfire for tonight, he did a perimeter check of the entire several-hundred-acre property. Debris littered the grass near the northwest corner, evidence of more fireworks, but nothing else appeared touched, and none of the sentries had reported other disturbances.

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