Tales of Darkness & Sin - Pepper Winters Page 0,83
who willingly handed her off to a fucking villain. If anyone hurt her, it was him. The hurt I give her makes her pussy wet. The hurt I give makes her feel so fucking good. The hurt I give feels like love.
A twinge squeezes inside my chest. Our vows last week promised love, though I’ve always wondered if I had it in me. Even after seeing the way her green eyes were soft with adoration and love for a motherfucker like me on our wedding day, I had doubt. I thought, at best, I could enjoy her, but never love her. Never love anyone for that matter.
But being separated from her for even half an hour, knowing she’s carrying my goddamn baby, I feel it. It’s fierce and feral and fucking maddening.
Love.
Who knew our hearts would be collateral damage in this war?
“Before I end you, you miserable piece of shit,” Westwood snarls, “you’ll sign the divorce decree my attorney has drawn up.” His eyes narrow. “I’ll give you credit for figuring out where I hid the money. Your father taught you a thing or two after all.”
I sneer at him. “Just think of everything I taught your daughter…”
His face turns purple with rage. Monroe clasps his shoulder to keep him from coming at me. Even tied to a chair, I’m fairly certain I could beat the fuck out of Westwood. All it’d take would be a headbutt if he got close enough.
“At first, I had to hold her down,” I spit out in a cold tone, my eyes locking with Monroe. “Strip her, starve her, force her to rely on me for everything even as basic as a blanket or to use the bathroom. Her tears were so beautiful.”
Monroe’s jaw clenches. “Bastard.”
“Take notes,” I say to him, “since you’re dead set on marrying her once the ink dries on the divorce papers. She really likes it when you choke her pretty neck while deep inside her ass.”
Westwood surges forward, swinging a puny fist at my face. It glances off me with minimal pain, but he makes a great show of cursing and shaking out his hand.
“You’re going to wire transfer all of your money, including what you took from my daughter, into an account that belongs to Monroe and me. The quicker you make it happen, the quicker I will end your life. If you want to drag your feet and cause trouble, I will torture you for each day you make me wait,” Westwood threatens.
I nearly roll my eyes. He couldn’t dream up half of what I could do to him.
“You’re pathetic.” I glower at Westwood. “Fucking pathetic.”
“Spare me your insults,” he snaps back. “They won’t hurt me or make me change my mind.”
“Where’s my wife?” I demand. “She’s carrying my child and sometimes gets sick when she doesn’t eat.”
A thrill courses through me to see the shock on Westwood’s and Monroe’s faces.
“She’s not pregnant,” Westwood growls.
“Oh, but she is, Grandpa.” I smirk at him. “And she’s very loyal to her husband.”
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The sounds echoing in the house are like music. It means Melody has done her job in making sure my men are able to access the home. Good girl. I’ll reward her later with my tongue between her thighs.
“Go see what that is,” Westwood barks to Monroe.
Monroe shakes his head. “Fuck that. I’m calling my security detail—”
The door to the office swings open, cutting off his words. My girl, covered in blood, rushes into the room, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“T-They’re dead. They’re all d-dead.”
“His men are here?” Westwood asks his daughter.
She nods. “They’re coming for us.”
Monroe reaches for her like he might comfort her, and she shrinks away.
“Don’t touch me,” she hisses, before turning to her father. “Daddy, what are you going to do?”
Westwood texts someone, but I know it’ll never make it to the intended person. By now, my men will have made sure of that. “Not to worry,” Westwood says. “My guards will eliminate his.”
Oh, but he and Monroe look all kinds of worried.
Not my wife, though.
Her green eyes flitter my way briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips. She’s a good actress. And, based on the blood covering her, she’s good at other things too. Like surprise attacks. She wore a pair of bulky boots for a reason. Easier to hide a knife.
Monroe watches our exchange, understanding washing over him. He opens his mouth to say something to Westwood, but Roscoe chooses that moment to enter the room.