Page 130 of Undisputed Player
I threw another punch, followed by a pounding of Connor’s fist straight to the top of his head, shutting him up. I breathed hard, cooling the rage surging through me as I watched Adrian grab the tools.
He stepped around Connor with a pair of surgical shears from his kit, the blades gleaming under the dim warehouse lights. The metal whispered against itself as he opened and closed them, teasing the sharpness.
"Here's how this works," Adrian said, his voice taking on that manic edge that meant someone was about to suffer. "I'm going to ask you to sign some papers. Very important papers. And for every ten seconds you don't comply..." He snipped the shears in the air, the sound sharp and final. "I take a finger. Starting with your left pinky."
Damon's eyes widened, understanding dawning. "You can't?—"
"Can't what?" I crouched down until we were eye level, close enough to smell the fear-sweat soaking through his shirt. "Give you what you gave the Moore family? Let you feel what they felt?"
Adrian pulled out a tablet, legal documents already loaded on the screen. "Full name, dates, locations. A lovely little will transferring all your assets to Leo."
He pretended to set a timer on his phone. "Ten seconds, starting now."
"I'm not signing shit," Damon snarled, but his voice cracked.
"Five seconds," Adrian sang, positioning the shears around Damon's left pinky finger.
"Four. Three. Two?—"
"Wait!" Damon screamed, but we knew Adrian was going to do what he wanted.
The shears closed with a wet crunch, and Damon's pinky finger fell to the concrete with a soft thud, blood spurting from the severed digit. His scream tore through the warehouse, echoing off the concrete walls.
Adrian was already moving, producing the blowtorch from his kit. "Can't have you bleeding out on us," he smiled cheerfully, igniting the flame. "This is going to hurt."
The smell of burning flesh filled the air as Adrian pressed the flame to the wound, cauterizing the severed finger. Damon's screams reached a new octave, his body convulsing against the chains. The sizzle of flesh and the acrid smoke made my stomach turn, but I didn't look away.
This man deserved every ounce of pain he was experiencing for the amount he inflicted on others. I’d called my father’s highest-ranked ‘people’ to take out the two shooters from LA a little after it happened. They should be well taken care of by now.
"There," Adrian grinned, extinguishing the torch. "All sealed up. Now, about those papers..."
"Fuck you," Damon gasped, tears streaming down his face.
Adrian pretended to reset the timer. "Ten seconds. Ring finger this time."
"I need... I need time to read?—"
"Five seconds."
"Please, I'll sign, I'll?—"
Another wet crunch, another finger hit the floor, another scream that seemed to come from the depths of hell itself.
This time, Adrian took his time with the cauterization, letting the flame lick at the wound until the bleeding stopped and the flesh was charred black.
The smell was nauseating, but Damon's sobs were music to my ears. Even Connor, standing behind the chair, wrinkled his nose.
"You made money off their suffering.” I stood over Damon asAdrian prepared for the next countdown. "Got rich while families fell apart. While children lost their mothers. Estelle worked three jobs to keep Leo fed while you lived in luxury.”
I checked the monitor again—Estelle still had her arm flopped over Sierra, both girls deep in sleep. Even unconscious, she was taking care of someone. The sight of her peaceful face, unmarked by fear, was everything I needed.
"Look at her.” I forced Damon's head up to face the screen. "See how she sleeps now? No nightmares. No jumping at shadows. That's because she knows you can't hurt her anymore."
"Third finger," Adrian announced, resetting the timer. "Middle finger seems appropriate."
"I'll sign!" Damon screamed. "I'll sign whatever you want!"
"Too late!” And Adrian closed the shears again, followed by his finger hitting the concrete.
