Page 30 of Broken Queen
“One of the Marked Blooms Syndicate members pulled my teeth. They’re dental implants,” she said. “Easier to maintain, of course.”
Suddenly, I got an idea—I could call Carter Care to get access to Logan’s teeth. They’d look good with the rubies from Daddy Bloom’s crown. Better fit for my queen.
But that must have been one sadistic ass mother fucker to pull her teeth.
“Who?” I asked.
“What?”
I gritted my teeth. “Who the fuck pulled your teeth, Zira?”
She jolted back for half of a beat, then tossed her head to the side. “You seem angry about it.”
I didn’t know what this was—anger, frustration, maybe even jealousy—but it was something. He had stolen that opportunity from me. What if I had wanted to do that to her? What if I had wanted to make her scream with agony from ripping out each natural tooth?
“Are you protecting him?” I growled.
She laughed, and finally, gave me a name: “Toben Astor.”
“Related to Logan?”
She nodded. “His father. We called him ‘the Dentist’ for obvious reasons. But really, I don’t care,” she said, swatting the subject away. “It’s water under the bridge.”
The bastard ripped out her teeth, and it was water under the bridge? What exactly had she come to expect from this secret society she so desperately wanted to be in charge of? Her father—the director—had raped her, and she had been sacrificed so many times that even getting her teeth yanked out was nothing. Why not just burn the secret society to the ground?
“Did it traumatize you?” I asked, my voice low and penetrating. My dick twitched with blood, curious about those intimate details. I wanted to know everything.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s in the past. I don’t?—”
I stepped forward, our bodies mere inches apart. Locking eyes with her, I studied her expression, trying to decipher whether she was hiding something from me.
Zira was a woman of power who hid her pain behind those guarded blue eyes. I wanted to rip off every layer until I could see every part she held back.
“Did it scar you?” I asked, my words stern.
She blinked rapidly, trying to find focus in a room full of uncertainty. “Why the hell do you care?” she snapped.
“I need to know what I’m dealing with.”
“You’re not dealing with anything. This is stupid,” she snapped. “Are you going to help me kill the other board member or not?”
I grabbed her wrists, bringing them behind her back, forcing her to arch her spine until she was pressed into me. My dick angled against her, jabbing her stomach, and her lips parted even as she glared at me.
“What’s stupid?” I asked. “Is it the fact that I’m genuinely curious about what happened to you, or is it the fact that you’re unable to face what happened?”
“Genuine,” she snarled. “What is so genuine about us using each other to get what we want?”
I smirked, then licked her cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on her skin. She tasted salty with sweat, with the faintest hint of synthetic vanilla.
“Those emotions are a bitch, aren’t they, my queen?” I asked.
Her nostrils flared. “Drop it.”
A sudden flash of anger pulsed through me. I might have obeyed her orders, but I wasn’t a dog. I held both her wrists in one hand, then slapped her—just hard enough to make a point. She glared at me, her eyes full of rage.
“Don’t you dare do that again,” she warned. But her breathing hitched, her hips pressing against me, wanting more.
I fucking loved ruining her.
