Castle | ✔️

Chapter Twenty Nine

Devin smirked at my answer. He leaned in and whispered into my ear, "You'll beg for death."

They forced me into a chair and slammed the papers on the table.

"Sign." He commanded.

"I won't. No matter what you threaten me with. I won't sign it. You can kill me."

"Very well, you've made your decision," Devin said as a ghost of a smile spread across his lips. He raised his hand out towards the maid standing to his right. "The tool, please, Penelope."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a trolley with a stainless steel plate and torture tools laid out on it; it glimmered under the crystal chandelier lights. As if Penelope was an assistant surgeon in an important operation, she handed Devin a plier.

I stiffened.

Don't let them see you're scared, Millie. They will feed off your fear. They want you to grovel and beg for mercy.

Don't give them the satisfaction!

I kept a straight face, numb to what was about to happen to me.

You've been through worse, you'll get through this, too.

Horrified about what was about to happen, I watched Devin wedge the plier into the nail of my index finger.

"One last chance." He said sweetly.

"The answer is still no," I told him, trying my best to not showcase the fear crawling deep inside my bones.

I was doing this for Castle, for freedom that I wanted for the both of us. As I was someone who was initially appointed to care for him and to protect him, I would do my job until I drew my last breath.

A second later, a horrified wail filled the silence and pain so potent speared through me. I wished I'd signed the papers and be done with it so I wouldn't be subjected to this torture.

My finger was soaking in blood, dripping, and devoid of a nail. The smudges stained the beautiful carpet below.

That was ironic. A beautiful home like this one held nothing but years of pain, sufferings, lies, and deceit. There was no love found between these four walls, only a hunger for power and the title that came with it, and somehow I'd been part of all this madness.

He wedged the plier into my thumb. "Don't make this hard on yourself."

I kept a straight face, even though my insides were screaming hell-fire. "Do it." I challenged him. "Do your worst, you sick bastard, but I won't sign the papers!"

Devin passed me the same charming smile from the first day I'd met him, "with pleasure, my love."

I screamed loud enough to shatter the glass windows of the entire mansion.

The nail on my thumb was gone, too.

"The blood is staining the carpet." Dayana pointed out, inspecting the expensive Turkish carpet. "I think we should stop, Devin. She won't talk even if you pluck all her nails, and it's not worth ruining a carpet worth three million dollars that was won from an auction. It's vintage and handmade."

Devin seemed to think Dayana had a point. The carpet was getting ruined after all.

Well, thanks to the expensive carpet, my torture was halted.

"Penelope, clean Mrs. Montgomery's wounds."

Penelope had come equipped with a first-aid kit. How very convenient.