Page 68 of The Mafia's Omega Queen

Holy fuck.

Glancing around, I double-check for any signs of cameras, and not seeing any, I bring my arms forward, grimacing at the destruction of my skin. My wrists are bloody, and the flesh is torn. A small whimper slips past my lips when I catch sight of my fingertips, my fingerprints completely missing. It’s one hell of a number I did on myself, but bright side, I’m free, and that means I can work on getting the fuck out of here.

Before getting to my feet, I roll my shoulders to alleviate the stiffness in them, then bend side to side, cracking my back. Pain twinges my stomach uncomfortably, the constant reminder of my looming heat. My anger fires up once again, pushing my heat away. I should be at home, getting dicked the hell down right now, not in this rat-infested trash-hole of a fucking basement.

My anger fuels my determination to get home to my men, and I get to my feet and go straight to the rusty-ass tools. I don’t have any other weapons at my disposal but these, so I’ll have to make them work, one way or another.

My fingers dance across all my options until I come to a dagger buried under some other pieces that seem to be in better condition than the rest. Bingo. That’ll have to work.

My bare feet tip-toe across the floor toward the stairs; all the while, the only thing I can think of is that I hope I don’t step on anything disgusting down there. It could end up being anything, including shit. I shudder, a full-body shiver, almost making me drop the knife.

Okay. Think happy thoughts. My alpha’s knots. My beta’s sexy blue eyes I can fall into. Anything but the nastiness down here.

The first step creaks as I put weight on it, and right before stepping up to the next, what sounds like a series of locks start to clink as they’re being opened.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter to myself, spinning around and running back to the chair. I snatch up the rope, my fingers screaming at the touch, and I sit down, holding the rope as if I am still bound by it. Except, this time, the dagger is poised in my hand also, ready and waiting to kill a fucker.

The door opens, and familiar heels clip down the stairs, making me roll my eyes. Of course it’s her again. Why the fuck did Lionel send down the bane of my existence? Oh well. No time to fret. Only time for her to fucking die.

Finally.

She comes around the corner holding a glass of water, and my throat twinges with dryness at the sight of it. My eyes hold on the cup as she comes closer, but she stops a few feet away, seeing exactly where I’m looking.

“Oh, did you want this, little bitch?” She waves the glass back and forth, spilling a little over the side. “Well?”

If she’s waiting for an answer, she’ll be waiting all day.

“Daddy told me to give you water, but he didn’t specifically tell me to make sure you drink it.” She snickers in her annoying voice before she upends the glass, dumping the contents on my head. Leaving water to stream down the sides of my head, none toward my mouth where I really need it.

I still don’t say a word as she steps closer, getting right up in my personal space. My grip tightens on the dagger, just waiting for the right moment. Like the fucking whore she is, she straddles my lap, putting her disgusting tits right in my face. Her talons fist my hair, the nails cutting into my scalp, and she wrenches my head back, dropping her face to my throat and taking a deep inhale, licking my skin all the way up to my ear.

My body protests at her actions, my limbs shaking with the need to cut the bitch. I just need to lean back a bit. I could stab her in the kidney, but there’s something I want to stab even more than that. And it’s not her heart.

“Mmmm, little bitch, so damn delicious. Maybe when Daddy’s done with you, he’ll let me have a turn.” I throw up a little in my mouth and have to swallow down the bile before I go into an all-out gagging fit.

She finally leans back, grinding her center down my lap and moaning like a whore in church. But even I know she isn’t getting any friction from what she’s doing; she’s just being freaking obnoxious.

I can’t stand another second of this. In a flash, I drop the rope and bring my hand with the dagger in it around and stab the bitch right in her fake-ass balloon tit. There’s a loud pop as the tip of the blade penetrates the implant, and then there’s a blood-curdling scream. Ahh, music to my fucking ears.

I shove Bianca off my lap as I rip the dagger from what’s left of her boob, laughing maniacally as she scuttles away from me in a crab walk.

“Stop,” she screeches in a command as I poise myself above her, the dagger raised once again. I pause, letting her think she has the upper hand. Oh how disappointed she’s about to be. “Step away.” Another command. Another one I can easily ignore. “Now,” she bites out, shaking like a leaf.

For an alpha, she’s definitely more of a bitch than I am in the face of death.

My eyes zone in on her one deflated boob, a deranged cackle releasing from my throat as I spy the blood oozing out from her wound along with the saline she’s steadily losing. Every second that one tit gets smaller and smaller, and the temptation is real to give the other the same treatment, but I’d rather her be humiliated in death.

Crouching down further, I murmur, “No,” and watch in sick satisfaction as she pales, knowing she’s officially fucked. With a quick swipe of the blade across her cheek, I relish in her scream as it bounces off the walls, wishing I had something to record this so I could listen to it time and time again. Out of pure enjoyment, obviously. Her pain settling something inside of me. The bitch is normally the one that has the advantage, but not anymore. Bianca cowers, folding in on herself, her words stuttering as she tries to figure out why her commands aren’t working.

Footsteps sound above me, and I just know that my time is running out. If I don’t off this cunt soon, I may never get the chance.

“Wish I could say it was nice to meet you, but yeah, that would be a lie.”

“Puh…puh…please. Just let me go,” she snivels, crocodile tears leaking from her eyes, her makeup smearing across her face. “I’ll leave you guys alone. I pro..promise.”

“Ha, fat chance,” I chuckle darkly. “Say hello to Lucifer for me.” The blade slices cleanly, ripping through her throat like it was made of tissue paper. The spray of her blood arcs from her body, drenching me in her life force, and I relish in the warmth as my bloodlust ratchets up. My body trembles with the need to kill everyone in my path and the need of another kind. But that’ll have to wait until I’m reunited with my men.

Two assholes down and one nasty motherfucker to go.

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