Page 19 of Rebellion of a Kingdom

“Want me to play with this?” I tease while thinking of how many times I am going to fucking sanitize my hands after this, even though I am wearing gloves. He nods profusely. “Then let me be a bad girl so I can be punished.” He groans at my words and I have to refrain from rolling my eyes again. He allows me to cuff his other wrist and then I use my heeled boot to push him backwards. Once I have him where I want him, I slide off the desk and fall to my knees. I used to think my beauty was a curse, but when I see the lust in his eyes and how it's allowed him to be at my submission. I suddenly realize it isn’t a curse at all, just another weapon in my arsenal.

I drag one of my hands up his thigh, bypassing his cock slightly and keep pushing it up his torso to his shoulder. My other hand reaches behind my back as I lean in and whisper into his ear, “The King sends her regards.”

My words barely hit his ear before I plunge my knife right into his cock. I pull it back immediately and watch in delight as blood pours from his groin. He screams out in pain, but I shove a rag in his mouth to silence them into muffles.

When I look him in the eye, his cocky and lustful stare has been replaced with pain and panic. I smile as I pull the wig off and watch realization hit him.

“Tell me, Mr. Kavanagh. Was it worth it? All those criminals you defended; all those crimes that went unreported, unpunished. Was it worth it?” He can’t answer me obviously, but I enjoy watching him try.

“Anything you had to say in defense stopped mattering the moment Elliot Donovan took his first victim right under your nose.” I’m not even angry, in fact, I have never felt this calm before. There is no adrenaline rush, no worrying about taking someone's life. There is just peaceful contentment. This is what I have to do. To beat the Devil, you have to become a monster.

I track the blood as it slowly seeps down his legs onto the floor, he is panting hard, and his body is covered in sweat. I watch as he tries to control his breathing, his eyes panicked as I reach forward and pull the rag from his mouth now.

“What the fuck is going on?” he manages to stutter, and now I do roll my eyes at him. I mean it’s pretty obvious what is going on. His crimes have caught up with him and it’s time for his death. I thought he was smart enough to realize that.

I bring my knife back towards his face and he stares at it in fear. “How long has Elliot known about Cassie?” I ask him.

He looks between me and the knife a couple of times before his eyes lock on mine. Judging by his defiant glare, he’s clearly decided that I won’t stab him again while I’m questioning him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he starts, but is cut off when I plunge the knife in between his ribs. There is a spot where if you tilt the knife at the right angle, it will miss any vital organs. Painful, but not life threatening.

He grunts out in pain as I respond, “I don’t like liars, Mr. Kavanagh.” I hiss at him as I slide the knife back out and wipe the blood on his bare thigh.

He starts to shake. I think he realizes he isn’t getting out of this alive, finally that legal brain of his is kicking in.

“Okay okay just stop. Please,” he begs.

I pull back ready to listen to him. “When did Elliot find out about Cassie?” I ask again.

“A couple of weeks ago,” he pants through the agony he’s no doubt feeling. “Someone saw you; I don’t know who, he didn’t tell me. Whoever it was is close to Greg and, well, you know what he’s like.” He grunts in pain, “As soon as he heard about her, he wanted her, wanted you and well, Elliot is all about family.” He says the last part like he actually means it.

“After that he ordered a tail on you. He had eyes on you at school, had you followed. But you were always with those little South Side punks, the Riviera boy and his pals.” He grunts, slurring slightly and I know it’s from the pain and blood loss, but clearly, he knows I don’t care because he forces himself to continue. “They tried to get you alone, but you were too well guarded. They worked out an opportunity with the ball and you took the bait, like they knew you would.” He isn’t smug in the delivery of his words, just factual. He is right, they found my weakness and exploited it. Between the need for revenge and the safety of my daughter, they found my Achilles heel.

I think about all the times I have been out with Cassie in the last month and I can pinpoint the moment they discovered her. I know exactly who told Greg and they have just landed themselves a top spot on my list. I take a slow deep breath in as I think about what I have just learned, and then ask my last question.

“Where is he keeping her?” My tone is as harsh as steel as I try not to let my panic show when I think about what could be happening to her.

“Ahh,” he gasps in misery, “Greg will keep her close, but not accessible, he knows Asher is with you, so he won’t risk it.” Hmm glad to know they don’t underestimate my best friend. I nod through his words as I try to think of where she would be. She has to be on the Donovan estate, surely. It’s their most guarded location, aside from their fucking trafficking warehouse. I pray to all the gods she isn’t there.

I have no further questions for him, so I start packing up my stuff. I see it, the moment he realizes there is nothing else he can offer me, nothing but his death as payment for his crimes. He doesn’t even have time to flinch when I bring the knife to his neck and slice in one swift movement from left to right.

Watching someone choke on their own blood sounds like it would be satisfying, but in reality, it actually takes a few minutes for them to die. It’s pretty boring, but I don’t allow him the final satisfaction of being put out of his misery early. I patiently wait until I see the life drain from his eyes and the struggling gurgled breaths pant into silence. Then I wait some more. Once I am sure he is dead, I plant a bullet between his eyes. That one is for my own pleasure.

The hardest part now is getting one of his large glass windowpanes out of its frame. I had to watch a few tutorials and call Oliver to walk me through it a couple of times, but I manage to do it quite easily after that. Once it’s done, I slide it carefully aside, before wheeling the carcass, slumped in his office chair closer. I cut him loose and tie a rope around his upper torso. It takes a bit of maneuvering but eventually, I get him how I want him.

I get the large piece of card I brought with me and scrawl the words on it in black permanent marker before I staple it to his chest. Have you ever stapled into someone's body? It’s quite fun. Once done, I step back and inspect my handywork and can’t help but smile. He looks so perfect.

Then I push him out of the window.

Chapter 11

MARCUS

We’re outside yet another of Elliot Donovan’s properties while Elijah does a perimeter sweep. On Max’s orders we are waiting in the car like sitting ducks. Asher is riding shotgun next to me, and Lincoln and Jace are in the back. This is the fourth house we have attempted today, but I know in my bones we will be leaving just as disappointed as the last three times. Cassie isn’t here and we are wasting valuable time. Every minute we spend searching leaves her helpless to those monsters.

I smash my fist against the wheel in frustration, the guys don’t even flinch at my outburst and I barely feel the sting. I’m just fucking sick of this feeling in the pit of my stomach that has been present since I walked into Elle’s house and found her covered in blood. I use the same hand to rub at my chest in rough circular motions, just trying to ease the ache of loss I’m experiencing. I just need to be doing more than sitting outside that rich pricks endless fucking houses.

“This place is too quiet,” Lincoln's voice cuts into the silence.

“It’s not like they’re gonna be advertising that they rape girls and kidnap children,” Jace scoffs in sarcasm beside him. The sight of the guys makes me feel even worse. Asher is acting emotionless, but I know him well enough to know how much he is dying inside. I am too. We won’t rest until we get our girls back to us. I never thought I would welcome him with open arms into my family, but he completes it in a way I could have never imagined. My brothers are just as cut up, and their pain is my pain. We are like a unit of joint emotion. All drowning in a hole of self-destruction and pain, just desperate for some progress.

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