Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,76

creates the conditions ripe for betrayal.

I can’t let that happen.

I must keep it on a leash.

Hence why I’m here, locked inside the cage with the only man in the world who knows how to calm me down.

“I lost control.”

“Fucking right you did,” Andrei snaps, surging toward me with his gloved fist outstretched.

I could have ducked out of the way before he got the chance to land the blow on my shoulder, but I didn’t. My body jerks as red leather and padding slaps against bare skin.

For being a sadistic bastard, I don’t actually mind being hit. There is something calming about it. Something grounding and real. In that sense, I can see the appeal in masochism. Still, though, rather them than me.

I swing back for him with my right arm but land a jab with my left square on his jaw.

He shakes his head quickly a few times. “No faces, prick!”

“I’m sorry.” I laugh. “That was low.”

Andrei is probably the better fighter, and that is why I enjoy sparring with him. He gets angry because it’s almost impossible for him to beat me, even though technically speaking, I should have been flat out on my back ten minutes ago. It’s the frustration he does so little to hide that amuses me the most.

And when I’m amused, I’m less likely to think dangerous thoughts.

“Again,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I’m fucked.”

“You’re fucked? Am I not the one trying to breathe through a thick layer of metal?”

He sits down in one of the eight corners of the ring and unstraps his gloves, pulling them off and resting them beside him.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he stares up at the high domed ceiling. “I’d have killed you years ago if it wasn’t for that thick lump of metal.”

I laugh and sit down in the corner across from him. “A fact of life I never forget. I’ll give you five minutes.”

“I did my back in taking the third one down to the incinerator. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

I chuckle. He’s not old. His hair hasn’t even started to turn grey yet, and there are barely any lines on his face. It’s difficult to keep track of ages—people rarely bother with that. But I think I was around ten when I met him, and he was hardly that much smaller. We’re probably older than thirty, but nowhere near forty. “Cry me a river.”

“You’re the one who can’t control your own selfish whims,” he says. There’s an undertone there. A joke that’s not really a joke.

“When I said I lost control, I wasn’t even talking about that,” I tell him. Truthfully, I’d almost forgotten about Chen and his associates.

“Course you weren’t! Who gives a fuck about consequences?” He’s not even bothering to hide the undertone anymore. “They were well connected, Baron. Leonardo’s brother owns Biocardtis. How do you think I set up the meeting with them in the first place?”

“You failed to mention that.”

He sighs. “I told you the day I arranged their safe passage.”

I shake my head. He tells me countless things on a daily basis. Countless pointless things. He knows how I am—this is exactly why I have him. “And you didn’t think to remind me of it before I stuck the bullet in Leonardo’s head?”

He laughs, but it’s completely joyless. “As if that would have stopped you.”

I eye him up before letting my shoulders drop in a shrug. “Fair point.”

Andrei stares at some spot in the middle of the ring. Probably a bit of blood the cleaners missed or something, who knows. Who cares.

“We’ll tell the brother there was an unfortunate situation with one of the girls. Grabbed his gun while he was balls-deep inside her and shot him in the head or something. Stranger things have happened.”

He sighs and then nods, picking up his gloves. “One more round.”

Thank fuck for that. My mind is still too pickled to return to my room and face her. I don’t even know where to start.

We circle each other around the ring.

“You weren’t talking about Chen and his men when you said you lost control?”

I let out a sigh and stop moving. I had wanted to speak to him about it, but now… not so much.

That’s my problem. I’m good with words, but not when it comes to saying the right ones. I decide to start at the most logical place. The most pressing matter.

“I left her lashed to the bedpost with a dildo up her cunt and a wand strapped to