Page 107 of Thorns of Love
I swore I’d never become him. Yet as the years passed, I found myself in the same fucking situations as him. I put a bullet into Isla’s mother. Now, I’d have another woman’s blood on my hands.
My aunt’s.
Fuck, I had never tortured a woman. Every fiber in me revolted at the thought. But if it came down to this woman ormyfamily, it’d always be my family. Jane Ford could have been my family, but she chose to work against me.
So if I must, I’d torture the information out of her. There was a first time for everything - even this. As despicable as it might be.
My knuckles hurt from clenching. Slicing her throat would have been a better way to go, but it wouldn’t give me any information I needed.
Her eyes, green like my mother’s, meet my gaze. Instantly something resembling disgust flickered in them.
“I take it you recognize me,” I said coldly.
“You look just like the devil who snatched my sister,” she spat out.
I ignored that comment. The past didn’t matter to me. Not anymore. I wanted to focus on the future. My children’s future. My wife’s future.
Slowly, I walked to the table where all the instruments of torture sat and I started going through them. There was a reason we kept them in plain view. It was psychological more than anything. The captives usually saw the assortment and they spilled their life story.
I picked up a pair of pliers. “We use this to pull out nails,” I stated, conversationally.
Glancing at her, she met my gaze and her expression turned ashen, matching her silver hair.
“And this one–” I picked up a small sized saw that truthfully, we never fucking used, “ –we use to saw off fingers. One by one.”
A whimper filled the room and I grinned savagely.
“My dear Aunt Jane, I make the devil look like a saint,” I remarked wryly. “But then, I’m sure you knew that already.”
She bit into her lip to prevent another whimper from traveling through the air. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother would look like her if she lived. Minus the fear and the dungeon, the woman looked to be in good health.
Pathetic how little I knew about my mother. It took Adrian slamming into my life and threatening my woman for me to dig into her life. This woman was the last link to my mother’s side of the family. Possibly the last link to my humanity.
However, as we watched each other, I knew - just fucking knew - she’d rather die than give me what I want. Answers. Still, I’d give her a chance. Everyone breaks eventually.
“What do you want?” Her voice shook like a leaf.
Smart woman.
I had to get to Sofia Volkov and learn her end game. It was clear that she wanted power and was a threat. You didn’t make a deal to obtain a chip that contained secrets against people so you could destroy it. You went after it to gain something from it.
“I want to know how Adrian made contact with Sofia Volkov.”
I saw the exact moment her eyes flickered with recognition of that name. But she still decided to fight me on it.
“I don’t know who that is.” She stared at me unblinkingly.
I stepped in front of her, the little saw still in my hands. I tapped it pensively against the palm of my hand.
“See, my dear aunt, I don’t believe you,” I drawled.Tap. Tap. Tap. Her eyes bounced up and down, following the saw movement. “I think you helped Adrian come up with the plan. He might have had the ideas but you had to have helped him. To recover. To taunt my wife. To play games.”
She shook her head frantically. “No, no, no.”
I slammed my fist against the table, the tools on the table rattling. “Stop fucking lying.”
“It’s the truth.”
“It’s a lie.” I put the saw down and reached for the gun. “We both know it’s a lie. But luckily for you, I’m feeling generous today.” Perspiration shone on her forehead. “I’ll give you one more try to tell the truth. To help your nephew out.”
