Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

10| Blood

I changed the chapter name

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Blood

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TW: Blood, torture, violence

Chapter 10: Blood (Logan's POV)

The moment I answered the phone, I regretted it. 

"If you're using your spare warehouse to torture people, at least give me a heads up, Logan," Christian huffed, the frustration seeping through his tone. 

"It's my warehouse. I thought I could use it for whatever I wanted once I bought it from you," I said, still waiting for my guest for the day. 

"It's yours, Logan. But if you get caught then I get dragged into this mess with you, remember that. My name is on those papers." 

"I won't get caught." 

"Do you know that?" 

"Don't you? I've never been caught. It's a Logan Markov specialty," I replied, hearing the main gate opening before the metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing everywhere. "Looks like my guest is here." 

He sighed softly and then hung up without another word. 

After meeting Zarah this morning, I began doubting if last night was a coincidence more than I already had been. Coincidences didn't happen to people like us, people who led lives like we did, knowing the people we do. The chances of a random creep approaching Zarah out of the people around that club weren't low, I could be completely wrong in thinking this was deeper than that. But I had to make sure. 

I stood up and unbuttoned my blazer, shrugging it off and hanging it on the back of my chair before rolling up the sleeves to my black button-up, gripping the back of my chair as two men brought in the man from last night with a blindfold over his eyes, and threw him into the chair across from mine, cuffing his wrists down. "Oh, creative," I nodded at the two guards Mr. Romano had lent me. "Nice." 

One of them nearly rolled his eyes at me. "Do you still need us here?" 

"Not in the warehouse. You can wait outside." 

Zarah's father and Nick were as close as I came to having allies of some sort in this circle. I had worked with them numerous times and along with their generous payments, I had easy access to guards from the security company whenever I needed them, which wasn't often. 

They glanced at the table behind me that had a couple of knives laid out on them and then looked back at me, warily. 

"Ever seen the Saw movies?" I questioned. 

They left without another word. 

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, rounding the table and tugging the blindfold off before coming back to my seat as the man squinted under the bright lights above us and looked around manically, trying to recognize his surroundings. "You're in a warehouse," I deadpanned, gesturing to the room, "in case you couldn't tell."