Beautiful temptation |18+

EIGHTEEN

WILLIAM

My boots echo through the walls with each step that I take, announcing my presence. I want them to feel the vibration, to feel the emotions radiating off of me in waves, pushing into my surroundings.

A hush fell across the room like a heavy drape as I opened the door, all eyes settling on me, but my eyes were on only one.

His eyes dashed across the room before landing on my approaching figure. his eyes wide, tears burning at the corner of his eyes. He jerked his wrist, but the rope didn’t burge, wrapping him down to the chair so tight that I was sure blood wasn’t flowing anymore.

Just what I wanted.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” I shot him a smile, sliding off my jacket. One of my men walked up to me, bowing his head slightly as I placed the jacket in his outstretched arms before walking backwards.

“How was your journey here? I hope my men treated you well.”

He stayed silent, the sound of some kind of vibrating filling my ears. It took me a moment to realize that he was shaking in the chair.

I turned to Zade. “Did you treat our guests well, Zade?”

Zade scoffed at me, his hand wrapped around his back. “We treated him how he needed to be treated, sir; he did kill two of our boys.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I chuckled to myself. I took the chair someone handed to me and placed it in front of him, turning it so that the backrest was in front of me before I sat down.

“You killed two of my men and stole one of our cargos.” I crossed my arms and rested on the handle.

“You’re not our guest; you’re our enemy.”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, his eyes dashing to see the unfavorable looks on my men’s faces before he finally seems to find his voice, “Mr. C-”

“Would you like to know what we do to our enemy?”

The room filled with wheels of the trolley bounced off the empty walls, and I flashed him a smile as the trolley stopped between us.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the various tools sitting on the flap before looking at me, realizing how deep of a shithole he’s in.

“You know what? Instead of telling you, I can just show you.” I got up, rolling up my sleeves.

He shook his head, his eyes looking like they’re ready to pop out of their socket.

“Please, Mr. Ciro, we can talk about this-” I stayed silent, my eyes scanning through the tools. I picked up the bugger knife, turning it to the dim light. Several emotions flashed through his face, but only one was prominent.

I could see it in his eyes, in his sweat, the way he flapped around as I stalked towards him, twisting the knife between my fingers.

fear—raw, unfiltered fear.

“I beg you.” His voice dipped, and I could recognize the desperation in it.

“First, we start with the fingers.” I lift the knife in the air, letting it down on the first section of his pointer finger.

His mouth widened, his eyes squeezed shut, and for a few seconds, no sounds came out. But then it did. An ear-splitting scream that was way too high pitched for a man. He jerked around, the tears bouncing around as they flowed freely down his face as he threw his head back.

Crying like a child.

The smell hit me first before I noticed it.

I made a face, my palm flying to my nose. “Did you just fucking shit in your pants?”