Page 59 of Caruso
“Follow me.”
I command her as a slave would command a mistress, expecting repercussions but testing the sense of power it gives me however fleeting it may be.
We head toward my playroom, and as we enter, the darkness wraps me in comfort, the chill in the air calming my heated blood.
Oscar’s groans wash away any doubt. This is my domain. Where I ground myself, make sense of it all and calm my rage. I belong here, dealing out retribution to men who deserve every slice of their skin and removal of their body parts. Scum, bastards and low-lifes who deserve their cruel ending.
I tell myself it helps—it never will.
I turn my attention to my guest, the darkness settling over any sense of moral decency I possess and smothering it, desensitizing my emotions to deal with a man who deserves his fate.
“Did you miss me, Oscar?”
I grip his face and force him to look at me.
“Please–” He starts to beg—they always do.
“I need medical attention.”
“It’s true; you do.” I glance at his broken wrist and sigh. “But I can’t allow you to leave without honoring my promise.”
The air stills as he begs, “Please, no, I won’t tell, I–”
I waste no more time. I have more important thingson my mind right now, and with one slice of the blade, I cut his hand clean off.
His screams bounce from every surface, but I have no time to bathe in his pain and instead cast my eye to his hand lying in a pool of blood at his feet. He is sobbing, weak. The blood that is dripping from his body is taking his life with it, and that’s not my plan.
He will be spared as a warning to other scum who believe they can head inside the doors of my hotel and steal from us. Men who buy young girls and use them for their corrupt pleasure with no sense of moral decency. No compassion. No shits to give for the young lives they batter as they ruin them forever.
Taylor is silent, her curiosity reaching out to me, and I say over my shoulder, “This man leaves here with his life today. It’s a life that won’t be worth living, and he will wish I had ended it while I had the chance.”
I step back, noting my attention has drifted from this man onto something way more pleasurable.
I text for my team to remove him from my life. To kick him into the gutter, where no doubt a passerby will alert the authorities. He won’t talk because if he does, he knows I’m coming for him, and next time I won’t be so generous.
I pocket my phone and hiss, “You are free to go, Oscar but your mind will never be free of the promise that if I hear from you again, hear your name mentioned in casual conversation, receive any visits concerning you, or even think about you for a second—I will be theorchestrator of your death which will be long, unpleasant and painful. My record is thirty days. I’m keen to test that limit, and if I have cause to catch up with you, I promise I’ll go for double that. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
His voice is weak, almost gone, and I jerk my head toward the door.
“Come, angel, our work here is done.”
As I pass Taylor, she is gazing at Oscar with anger flashing from her eyes, and I wonder what she’s thinking right now.
I’m interested when she shrugs off my hand and heads to the spot I just vacated and hisses, “Men like you don’t deserve chances in life. You took away a little girl’s soul and terrified it. Losing your hand is a small price to pay for that because men like you never learn; they move on to the next opportunity.”
She is an impressive sight as she stands with her hands on her hips like the warrior queen she is and says casually, “May I borrow your knife, Giorgio?”
I say nothing and hand her the blade, interested in seeing what she has in mind.
She steps closer to him and with all the concentration of a surgeon, she drags the blade over his forehead, carefully, deeply and with no regard for his whimpers of pain.
When she steps back, she wipes the blade on her thigh, and I almost come in my pants as she smiles, turning to stare at me with a satisfied smile.
“Now there is no getting awayfrom his crime.”
I gaze with admiration at the letters she has carved into his face.
