Vegaspete: Blood Ties 18+

9

Vegas's eyes were bloodshot, his jaw clenched with determination. He delivered a powerful punch to the tied man, who was already covered in blood from the torture he had endured throughout the day.

The man pleaded desperately, his voice trembling as he coughed up blood.

"You pathetic shit," Vegas's voice echoed through the entire basement. "Tell your leader not to fucking dare to attack my husband again."

Vegas was drenched in blood, his muscular body adorned with the crimson liquid, adding to his dangerous aura.

The other man, who hadn't been tortured yet, winced in pain as he watched the brutal scene unfold.

"I fucking hate it when you beg to stay alive, knowing there's no chance," Vegas muttered in a low whisper as he approached the other man. He traced the knife along his chest, causing him to tremble in fear.

In one swift motion, Vegas plunged the knife into the man's throat, silencing him forever.

"Khun Vegas," one of the guards spoke up, "the doctor just left. Luckily, Khun Pete is unharmed."

Vegas nodded, tossing the knife to one of the guards, who caught it skillfully. He retrieved a gun from the back of his pocket and swiftly eliminated the remaining threat before leaving the basement.

After taking a long shower to wash away the filth and blood, Vegas entered their bedroom. He gazed at Pete, peacefully sleeping on the couch beside the window. But it didn't take long for Vegas to realize that Pete was just pretending to be asleep.

PETE

I was cozied up on a small couch near the window, gazing out at the night sky. The room is dimly lit, creating a serene ambiance. As I peer through the glass, I'm captivated by the vast expanse of twinkling stars above. Each one seems to hold a secret, a story waiting to be discovered.

The moon, a gentle companion, casts a soft glow over the surroundings, adding a touch of magic to the scene. The night sky is like a canvas, painted with a tapestry of constellations, connecting the dots to form mythical figures and celestial wonders. It's a breathtaking sight that fills me with awe and wonder.

Just as I lose myself in the allure of the night, Vegas enters the room, his presence commanding and undeniable. I instinctively close my eyes, pretending to be lost in a peaceful slumber, but I can feel his piercing gaze upon me. His voice, low and resonant, breaks the silence, revealing a hint of irritation.

"If you're done pretending to be asleep, wake up," he grumbles, his words laced with a mix of authority and frustration.

I slowly open my eyes, meeting his dark, intense gaze, and respond with a glare that's both challenging and filled with unspoken desire. 

This bastard can't let me live in peace for a moment, can he? 

"I was just resting, if you have a problem with it-''

Go and fuck yourself. 

I stopped in mid-sentence and sat straight. I watched him and my heart skipped a beat as Vegas abruptly cut me off. 

His piercing gaze locked onto mine, and I couldn't help but notice the way his strong jaw clenched. He exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with each breath, and I found myself captivated by his presence.

"Why are you sleeping here? The bed is more cozy," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine. It was as if his words held a hidden promise, a hint of something more.

Silence hung in the air as I resisted the urge to retort. Engaging in an argument with someone like Vegas was like playing with fire, and I knew better than to provoke him further.

"I wanted to discuss some things with you," he began, his tone shifting from commanding to unexpectedly vulnerable. "Russians were the ones who attacked us. And, for your safety, I don't want you to leave the mansion until I tell you to."

My frustration bubbled up, and I couldn't help but snap back, "I'm not a prisoner."