Page 171 of Intense
I’ve also never had a contestant with any medical knowledge. That is usually my advantage to spark the fear in them. The women truly believe what a doctor tells them.
That any drug they take will have an effect. That there are no illusions. We make it look as real as possible here.
The Quinn brothers are masters of letting the world think we are evil.
But, deep down, especially in my brothers, there is a good heart. My mom always said we all did. Yet, when she looked at me, all I saw was sadness. Regret. It must have hurt her, knowing what happened to me and that she couldn’t protect me.
It hurt my dad too.
It’s what escalated the war with the Bowens. Because I didn’t learn until I was in my twenties, my abusers were cousins to Charles Bowen.
Which makes wiping out every single one of them even more fulfilling to me. They are the true evil, it’s bred into them.
That is who they are. And that is why they need putting the fuck down.
I circle around Stephanie, and it jolts me back into the present. If anyone would ever understand, looking at her little murder journal, it would be her.
I know Stephanie and how her brain is wired. She will see through that in no time. That won’t get me my answers. That will just break her trust in me.
She knows me… better than anyone outside of my family.
The contestants never even know who I am. They never get to see my face or hear my voice.
This is different in every way. And yet, it’s the trial with the most risk on the line. There is no going back from this.
“Stay still,” I order.
The metal kisses her skin. Her breath hitches, her pulse beating against the blade’s edge.
“Welcome to Decadence, wife,” I say, my tone cold.
She freezes, and there is a pause. A grin tugs at my lips. “As in… the chocolate factory?” she whispers.
“The grounds of,” I correct. “I live here. We own Decadence. And now, I own you.”
The scalpel slips under the straps of her dress and slices. Fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in black lingerie. I trace hertattoo, pressing my finger to the silver skull in the center of her bra.
“That’s kinda cool,” she says lightly.
I frown. None of this is how I pictured it. She isn’t scared of me—yet. She hasn’t met the side of Dr. Quinn that she will meet today.
The one I’ve hidden from her. The most evil part of me that was born out of abuse. I wonder what she will think of me once she learns more about the man she married.
I step back and look at my wife, my only contestant this year. Disappointment fills me.
The Trials usually take in women given to me, each one here to earn freedom from her abusive family. It’s a cleansing ritual, a way to hunt down the filth in our world. Whoever sacrifices a woman is ended quietly, in their sleep, once the game is done.
These men believe it’s their ticket into Inferno, to the largest mafia network across the world. When in reality, it’s their demise. It shows us exactly who they are and what they will sacrifice for power.
But this trial? This is for me.
To discover why my wife has lied to me. Betrayed me. Used me.
And maybe… a trial for myself.
How did I let this happen?
How did I give her my heart?
