Page 4 of The Beautiful Dead

“N-no…” he rasped. “I-I would… n-never…”

I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Remember this moment,” I murmured. “The moment you realized you were powerless. The moment your life stopped belonging to you. The moment you watched your child break before your eyes.”

His sobs turned frantic. “How... how can I stop this?”

“By following my rules.” The words settled between us like poison already swallowed. “And by giving me that name. It’s simple, really.”

The bloodied edge of my switchblade gleamed as I twirled it between my fingers. Rutter whimpered but stayed silent.

Disappointing. But not surprising.

They always thought they had a choice. They never understood the weight of their decisions—until I burned the consequences into their flesh.

At my signal, the last notes ofTchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suitefaded into obscurity. Overhead, the grimy ceiling lights flared to life, making Rutter recoil.

Too bad. There was nowhere left to hide.

“Five…”

“Four…”

“Three… How is Ashley? He enjoying college?”

His spine snapped straight. “Y-you leave him out of this.”

“Why?” I smirked. “Are you going to save him? Protect him?”

I waited.

Waited for a father to value his son’s life over his own greed. Waited for him tofightfor something other than himself.

But… nothing.

“Two… Last chance. Give me a name.”

If I had a heart, it might have broken for the boy. But empathy? Emotion? They were foreign languages to me. Instead, I exhaled a soft, measured breath.

“One.” The number rang out like a death knell.“Bring him in.”

The guards nodded and left the door open. I wanted Rutter tohearit, and the moment his son’s screams echoed down the damp corridor, something inside him shattered.

“NOOOOO! You leave him alone!”

His cries meant nothing. He’d been given a choice and spit in its face.

And now, he had tolivewith that.

Ashley’s scream tore through the room, and for the first time, Rutter went silent. His head jerked toward the open doorway, his body straining against the cuffs. “G-get off me!”

A smile spread across my lips, my cock thickening.

I loved it when they fought back, watching their eyes widen as they realized it wasn’t an act, that the hunger in me was real.

I could have a willing body anytime—at twenty-five, I’d had more than enough ofeasy.

The sound of my belt buckle unfastening jolted Rutter back to life. His shattered brown eyes locked onto my hand as I toyed with my zipper.

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