Page 64 of Beautiful Revenge

As soon as Philip walks through the door to his home, Devon steps out of his spot behind it and clocks him in the face, sending him flying.

I move over to them, locking the door while Dev has a little fun.

“What the fuck?!” Philip roars, trying to stand before Devon kicks him in the stomach.

“Yeah, that’s a good question,” Dev taunts. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you sick bastard?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the asshole shouts back as he sits up. “You should grab whatever it is you want and leave before the police get here,” he sneers, looking between us.

“And why would they be on their way, Phil?” I ask, moving to stand over him.

“I have an alarm, idiot,” he hisses, and I laugh.

“And I have a hot nerd who disabled that long before you showed up.” I smile darkly at him as his eyes widen. “Buckle up, bitch. You’re in for a long night.”

Devon laughs as the asshole lunges at me. I’m breaking his nose with my fist before he can even touch me. “She’s not a newbie, Philip.” Dev shakes his head.

He moves to Philip’s head and lifts the top half of his body while I grab his legs. The dumbass tries to fight us off, cursing to high heaven as we carry his squirming body to his bedroom at the back of the house.

“You have such a nice house,” I state, moving to tie up one side of his body to the head and footboards while Dev holds him down. “Too bad the real estate is about to take a hit. Murders always bring down the property value.” I sigh.

“You cunt! What the fuck do you want?!” he snaps, still struggling against the zip ties we took from his own garage.

“Nice of you to ask,” I say, moving to grab the knife off his dresser. As much as I want to use mine, using one from the kitchen makes it look a lot more like a crime of passion rather than premeditated.

It’s all about the details, you know?

I walk over to him, holding the steak knife to his throat. “I want sick perverts like you to stop hurting innocent women and children,” I hiss, digging the knife into his throat just enough to make him bleed before dragging it across.

“Fuck. Fuck, stop!” he screams.

“Hmm,” I pretend to contemplate it for a moment, never removing the knife. “I don’t think I will.”

He screams some more when I pull the knife back and he sees his blood on the blade.

“I’ve never hurt anyone!” he cries, thrashing against the ties.

“And I don’t kill unless I have proof that you have,” I state mildly, and he blanches.

“There’s a saying when it comes to my woman. You want to hear it?” Devon teases, and I roll my eyes. He’s the one that came up with it. It’s not like I’ve killed enough for rumours to begin.

“Wh—what?” Philip croaks, shaking as he continues to pull at the ties. They won’t budge. We reinforced them.

“If you’ve been slotted for death, you won’t see her coming. She’s your worst goddamn nightmare,” Dev tells him with pride.

“No. No, you have to believe me!” he begs, still trying to fight being restrained. “I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone!”

I snort, pulling my phone out to show him the pictures I have. I’m not exactly sure how Dylan dug them up, but they’re fucking disgusting.

“Does this look innocent to you?” I question, my voice sounding deadly even to my own ears.

He looks at the screen before his face loses all colour. It doesn’t stop his body from reacting, though. The sick son of a bitch.

“Dude. You’re going to lose that,” Devon sneers at the asshole’s hardness.

“Can you use those scissors to cut his pants and underwear off, please, baby?” I ask, my eyes refusing to look at his dick until I start torturing him.

Devon makes quick work of stripping the bastard until he’s lying naked before us. Even the sight of his naked body makes my stomach turn after everything I’ve gone through. The only men I ever want to see naked are Devon and Dylan, and that will never change. But this has to be done, and it’s something Devon won’t do.

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