Page 6 of What Doesn't Kill Us

The initial assumption that we had him right where we wanted him after our little show on the red carpet was incredibly short-sighted. We all figured once we got his attention, he would feel inclined to make some sort of declaration, but I don’t think anyone ever considered that he would literally wage war on my person.

Bruises, welts, and love marks were not at all how I saw him responding, though I’m not complaining. But if the man wasn’t as serious about his aftercare as he is about making a point using physical punishment, I’d be an entirely different hot mess right now.

When he first removed his belt, I had some mixed feelings: excitement, fear, apprehension. A deep vibrating arousal. And at first, I wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do with it.

He started giving me the option of either accepting that he’s the only man who will ever touch me again, or I’d be asking for a few lashings. I may have chosen the lashings with my continued silence. Maybe that’s because I have faith that he would never hurt me unnecessarily.

Not that a few of them didn’t hurt; when he set out to get my attention, that’s precisely what he fucking did. But after a while, I was so hot and bothered that I was begging him to let me come. Frankly, I would’ve agreed to anything by the end.

When he was done with the belt, he shifted me so my knees were on the bed with me still face down and left my hands tied behind my back, so I couldn’t hold myself up at all. I was laying there, like a limp ragdoll, at his mercy for him to do what he wanted.

It was fucking glorious. I lost track of how many times he edged me with his mouth and fingers, leaving me waiting for him to push his huge fucking dick inside me, but he never did.

My pussy clenches at the thought, and from the small twinge of discomfort this causes, I have to believe it was probably a good thing he didn’t. If he had, he most likely would’ve broken me right in half, and I would’ve been limping for days.

I make my way back into the bedroom and spot another note stuck to the door when I go to open it. This one only has one word on it,mine,and the same bloody fucking fingerprint. This time, I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile like the besotted fucking fool I am. I should be angry that he was here and never actually gave me any answers, but part of me is a bit relieved because once I have those answers, I’ll have to decide where those answers leave us.

Tony doesn’t believe I truly understand the whole undercover dynamic Dare may be living at this point. I understand it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. If he was having to fuck other women to maintain some cover story to protect me, is that still cheating? Are we even together enough for it to be called cheating? And if we are, at what point does your cover story become an extension of another lie? It’s not like he’s the police or anything. He’s a fucking criminal doing criminal work with other criminals.

I leave the note on the back of the door and make my way down the hall to the kitchen. I stifle a yawn as I walk over to the fancy coffee machine and grimace. “How come there’s no Mr. Coffee in this place? I want a regular cup of coffee.”

Tony laughs as he walks over and shoves me out of the way. “Let me help you. You look like you had a long, hard night.”

Sitting on the stool at the counter, I watch Tony pressing all these shiny buttons, until finally, he’s placing the smallest cup of coffee I’ve ever seen in front of me. He smiles at me, so I pick up the tiny cup and take a little sip, swallowing my moan of pleasure as the richness of the hot liquid hits my tongue.

Setting the cup down; I clear my throat. “So, which one of you rigged Dare’s restraints so that he could get out of them?”

Silence meets my question. I glance around at everyone in the room, trying to decide which one is the guilty party. I don’t believe it’s Lilith, because I’m certain she’s entirely on my side. Of course, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t work against me if she felt it was in my best interest, so I suppose I should leave her on the list of possibilities. At the top of the list is Tony, but at a glance, he looks genuinely perplexed. And Matt looks tired. That only leaves one other person.

“Where is Hans?”

Matt and Lilith shrug as Tony responds, “I think he may be outside. You need to see him?”

I nod, and he pulls his phone out, probably sending a quick message, and within a few moments, we hear a door open and close, then the heavy footfalls of a large man walking down the hallway.

Tony must’ve told him I wanted to see him because he comes right over to me and stops in front of me. “Antoinette?” He’s looking me in the eye with cool detachment, but I see the tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth. That fucker.

I tilt my head at him as I ask, “Hans, who do you work for?”

He glances briefly at Tony before bringing his eyes back to mine. “I work for Darius Hughes.”

I laugh and shake my head, then laugh and laugh and laugh until all three of them are staring at me wide-eyed. “Of course you do. Everyone works for Darius fucking Hughes.”

I look over at Tony and ask, “Did you know about this? When we set up this whole little trap Dare plan, did you know the big guy was going to make it easy for him to flip the script?”

Tony gives me a sheepish look. “I actually didn’t. Though in hindsight, not considering it was stupid on my part.”

I shake my head, rubbing a hand over my face as I catch my breath. I bring my attention back to Hans. “You didn’t drug him at all, did you?”

He shakes his head, giving me a bored look. “We have a protocol for every scenario that you could ever dream up. That way, if we’re ever put into a position where we can prevent harm from coming to him or where we can give him a leg-up, the options are simple.”

I raise my brows, crossing my arms over my chest. “Explain.”

Hans glances at Tony, and I jump to my feet, getting right in his face as I snarl, “Do not fucking look at him. I’m the one asking the questions here, and you’d better give me all your attention, or else I may decide to get stabby with you.”

Lilith laughs behind me. “Ooh. I do love stabby Toni.”

Hans glances at her, then brings his focus back to me. “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you.”

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