Page 125 of Devil's Tulip

She inhales sharply as soon as she sees him and starts thrashing wildly, but she’s no match for Lorenzo, who makes tying her to the restraint chair look as effortless as subduing a toddler. Once she’s immobilized, I pick up the bucket of cold water and splash it over the unconscious Aldo.

He jolts awake with a violent gasp, body swinging like a pendulum from the horizontal pole his arms are tied up to. His gaze finds mine first and fills with such intense hatred that I can’t help but smile, savoring it. Then his gaze shifts to his wife, and naked fear replaces the hatred. “What is she doing here?”

“Have no fear, Aldo. Unlike you, I don’t hit women,” I say conversationally as I pick up a thin leather crop and stretch it between my hands. “She’s just here to watch your torture.”

The momentary relief in both their eyes is almost comical. Aldo gapes at me, comprehension slowly dawning. “What–what does that mean?”

I circle him slowly, crop in hand, watching him track my movements with growing panic. Then I come to a halt in front ofhim and, without warning, lash the crop right across his chest. He and his wife let out simultaneous screams as he thrashes like a worm on a hook—but he’s going nowhere. The restraints hold firm.

“Who scrambled the cameras in my house and gave you the virus to override my laptop’s security?” I demand of Aldo, who only groans in anguish.

I whip him again in the exact same spot, and this time his scream echoes off the walls. Again and again, I strike, my rage building with each crack of the leather against his skin, but he stubbornly refuses to give up his partner in crime.

I start alternating hits—chest, neck, face, even his dick—but the bastard still won’t reveal anything.

Whoever this partner is, it makes me wonder who the hell they are and why he’s so damn scared to talk.

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” he groans, his body shuddering as blood seeps from the shredded flesh left by the crop. “I’m not going to give her up when she had no reason to help me but did anyway.”

Her? “So it’s a she? Who is it? Someone I know?”

“Just know there’s someone out there who’s after you and your brothers,” he answers cryptically, then clamps his mouth shut with finality.

Hit with frustration from the dead end, I drop the whip and approach the wall of tools, selecting a chainsaw. “Since you’re so determined to keep your mouth shut, I’ll make sure to draw your death out,” I threaten, raising the chainsaw to eye level.

He flinches as I power the machine on, and a stream of piss suddenly rushes out of his limp dick, puddling on the floor.

I step back in disgust before the liquid can splash my shoes.

Behind me, Marie sobs hysterically. “Please… don’t make me watch anymore. Take me out of here!”

I barely spare her a glance as I wait for Aldo to finish emptying his bladder. When the puddle stops growing, I take a step towards him, position the tool just below his knee, and start sawing through his right leg. Blood sprays the air, splattering my shirt and face as his anguished screams mingle with Marie’s crazed wails and the chainsaw’s mechanical roar.

My ears ring from the hellish symphony as sweat pours down my back from how taxing sawing through his bone is, even with the powerful machine in my grip.

Finally, the flesh cleaves completely, and his severed leg hits the floor with a wet thump. Blood gushes from his mangled stump in rhythmic pulses, quickly pooling around my feet. Aldo’s screams rise to an impossible pitch, only to abruptly cut off as consciousness abandons him.

“That’s for attempting to break my relationship with Gianna,” I tell his unconscious body. Then I wipe the sweat off my face, inadvertently smearing some blood across my skin as I move on to his second leg. “And this is for trying to frame my wife.”

Aldo regains consciousness midway through the second amputation, his mouth stretching open in a soundless scream, head thrown back as he stares at the ceiling with a crazed expression.

With both legs detached from his body, I methodically move to his wrists, then his arms.

I’m sawing through his left elbow when a foul stench suddenly fills the air.

I look up to see his eyes wide open but lifeless, his face frozen in shock, while steamy shit falls to the ground from his ass. He’s dead but still shitting himself. My nose wrinkles in disgust, and I glance back at Marie.

Lorenzo is standing behind her, fingers forcing her eyelids open so she has no choice but to watch what I’ve been doingto her husband. Her gaze flickers to mine, and she whimpers pathetically, her whole body shaking like a leaf against the restraints.

I turn away from her and continue the process of dismembering Aldo, limb by limb. It’s a long, tedious process, but I don’t rush.

Once I’m done, I have his mutilated body released from the pole and toss his pieces into a thick sack, tying it securely.

Only then do I face Lorenzo again. “Take her to an asylum. She’s to be locked in solitary isolation, never to be let out to see the sun until she dies.” My judgment falls on the woman like an executioner’s axe, and she begins struggling with renewed desperation.

“Just kill me!” she screams. “Please, kill me.Kill me!”

I don’t spare her another glance, just pick up the sack of her husband’s remains and haul it out of the room, her hysterical pleas following me.

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