Page 7 of To Catch A Rook

Sammy held up a speaker to our sexual predator, as instructed.

“Hello, Cowan.” My velvety voice filled the space as the man spewed futile obscenities. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your party.”

He knew my voice; of course he did. No one in the higher echelons of Sequoia society was unfamiliar with my feminine tone.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

This was the ultimate downfall of the ego of a man. Even in the most powerless position with their literal pants down, they didn’t understand when they were truly bested. They couldn’t humble themselves enough to beg for their lives.

Not that I would kill him tonight. That would be too quick a punishment. Blackmail was a far more effective tool for diminishing a man’s fragile image. Why kill him when he could lead me to the entire ring?

Once he stopped being useful,thenhe would meet his end. But keeping him alive didn’t mean I wouldn’t take a trophy to mark the occasion.

“You know what I’m doing,Your Honor. Balancing the scales of justice, taking out one sexual predator at a time. I know you love taking law-defying risks. Care to place a wager?”

Thesizable man twisted in Sammy’s grasp, but he was no match for the muscles upon muscles built by Sammy’s intense training sessions. He gasped from exertion before spitting out an aggravated “fuck you.”

Still no groveling, no sense of shame or defeat. It just wouldn’t do.

“A barter, then.” Cowan couldn’t see the malicious smile that crossed my lips, but it was a beautifully dark and dangerous grin.

I was careful in my boardroom. Ruthless, but fair. Brutal, but respectful. Here, behind the hidden door of my secure panic room, I could unleash my demons on those who deserved it and bend them to my will.

It was the ultimate feeling of power.

“I won’t be taking your life tonight, Your Honor—but make no mistake, that’s what you deserve. Who knows when you’ll be useful in the future. I’m not one to waste an opportunity.”

I checked the body camera feed to confirm other members of my team had made it back to their vehicle and our packages were secured. All the while I ignored the tirade of the terrified man as he called me a cunt and a whore, and all manner of other words meant to cut down a commanding woman.

I was a cunt with purpose. A whore for justice. A bitch for power. And a slut for a good fuck when the need struck. Sticks and stones, you miserable sociopath.

“Unfortunately for you, I require a sacrifice in exchange. Your days as a sexual predator are over. And while I’d like to trust you at your word, you’ll understand why it has no meaning to me.”

“What the f–”

Sammy wrenched the sniveling man down to the hardwood floor, and pinned him in place in a hold I had yet to master. He took out a sharp blade from his leg holster and held it menacingly over the pudgy rolls of the judge’s stomach.

“Wait! No!”

Finally, raw fear replaced the indignance in Henry Cowan’s tone, but it didn’t matter. He could have begged for his life at the beginning with an appropriate sense of humility; this would have still been the inevitable outcome.

Sammy waited for my signal, but I held off a minute longer, giving the disgusting excuse for a man one solitary moment to hand me a clue.

“The man you really want is Alvarez! Alvarez supplies the girls!”

Bingo. Alejandro Alvarez, the only mafia fucker who could rival Antonio Carlos, was now moving into Sequoia territory. Until now, I’d had nothing to do with Antonio or Alejandro, but I knew a group of men who did. They dallied on delicate tiptoes with the scum of our society, while I worked to scrub the scum off every surface it touched.

I didn’t care who the motherfucker was. If Alvarez was supplying unwilling girls and women inmystate, he was officially on my hit list. Literally.

I pressed the button on the console in front of me to alert our private medical team, then clicked the signal for Sammy to proceed.

The man had long mastered the art of amputation. He sterilized his hands with a tube of medical-grade sanitizer and removed an ice pack from the small sack on his back, slowly and meticulously, all the while keeping Henry Cowan still as stone between his legs.

I admired his raw strength and skill from afar. It was a reminder I needed to up my training sessions later on in the week.

My best soldier made quick work of removing the judge’s penis, and placing it delicately on the waiting ice pack. He placed a black absorbent micro-fiber towel beneath the gapingwound to absorb some of the oozing blood on the floor.

Throughout the procedure, Cowan screamed in visceral agony, his wails and howls obliterating any background noise on my feeds. How convenient he had drugged and seduced young girls in a fully sound-proofed room.

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