Chapter 40

Madame is a cruel fucking woman. She's allowed me free roam of her home since the men brought me here, but she uses every opportunity she has to remind me how great I have it, and that my punishment for betraying her is coming.

My mind has literally been running wild with the things she can or might do to me.

Letting one of her goons beat me beyond recognition.

Killing me—even if she has repeatedly told me that's not an option.

Selling me off.

She has a few international clients that would make Samuel look like a fucking teddy bear. Years of abuse and body mutilation make death seem like the better option.

Or maybe she'll just let Adam loose.

He's dying to make good on his threats from the car.

Sitting at the counter and sipping my coffee, I can feel him entering the room. It's as if the air literally grows cold in his presence, making the feel of his eyes burning into my skin that much more noticeable. Goosebumps prickle over my skin as he approaches, not stopping until I can feel him pressed to my back. My heart pounds in my chest, and I try desperately to maintain my steady breathing.

I don't want him to know that I'm afraid.

His knuckles drag down the back of my bare neck, and a chill runs down my spine as he whispers, "Alone at my last, my mouthy little bitch."

"Hey," the blond man who brought me here shakes his head from the entry at the other side of the large kitchen, "you know the boss has said she's off-limits."

"And she won't fucking know if you don't fucking tell her," he barks as his hand begins sliding down the front of my loose tank top. "I'll even hold her down to give you a chance to get your dick wet. Or you could fucking leave and mind your own fucking business."

The blond pulls out a stool and defiantly takes a seat at the other side of the counter. I silently mouth the words, "thank you," as Adam leans closer.

"Lock your doors at night, little bitch, because I will get you alone. And I will get what I want from you. What you fucking owe me,"he grits the words against my ear before pulling up a stool beside the blond. Leaning into him, he seethes, "And you're going to fucking get what you deserve, too."

Turning his attention back to me, Adam's eyes roam over my body as he repeatedly slips his switchblade open and closed. Occasionally, he pauses to roll the open blade through his fingers and lick his lips before continually taunting me with the blade.

As much as I don't want to sit here and allow him to continue to emotionally torment me, it's safer than winding up anywhere with him alone.

"Good. You're all here," Madame chirps as she joins us in the kitchen. The heavy thud of a book hitting the countertop startles me, and I jump in my seat. She slides the book toward me, "I've heard you enjoy reading. Do you know this one?"

The Scarlet Letter

Before I have a moment to react, Adam grabs my wrists. Madame lifts my coffee mug from between my arms as I try to pull them from Adam's tight hold. Pouring my remaining coffee down the drain, she addresses me with an inflection more suitable for a coffee date than torture. "You've been my best girl for years, Cora. I'm going easy on you. Remember that if you think about crossing me again."

Adam yanks my hands hard, forcing me to stand as he pulls my chest over the cold granite. He stands, and the blond takes my wrists from him, holding me equally as tightly. Placing a bottle of vodka down on her way out of the kitchen, Madame instructs them, "Clean it when you're finished."

Rounding the island, Adam presses himself firmly against my ass as he leans his chest against my back. He flicks open the switchblade in front of my face, then uses it to cut the slice the straps of my tank top and bra. Yanking them both from my skin, he grinds his cock against my ass and whispers in my ear, "You have no idea how much I'm going to fucking enjoy this."

He drags the tip of the blade along my skin with a light feathery touch, and I shout, "Just fucking do it!"

"Foreplay, little bitch," he snickers against my skin as he continues to grind his hips against me. "Foreplay."

He shoves his forearm against my upper back and uses his weight to pin me to the counter as he takes his time pressing the knife tip through my skin. Gritting my teeth, I fist my hands so hard that my nails dig into my skin as I try to manage the pain.

"One way or another," he sloppily kisses against the back of my ear as I squirm beneath him, "You're going to fucking scream for me today."

The knife slowly cuts through my skin, and I scream as he carves through my flesh over and over again. Blood trickles over my shoulder and begins pooling under my cheek as I cry out in agony with every movement of his hand. My legs are trembling beneath me when he drops the bloody blade on the counter.

Twisting open the bottle beside him, he takes a swig before pouring it over my back. I shriek as the alcohol hits the open wounds. Slamming the bottle back on the counter, he licks through the bloodied vodka on my back. His disgusting tongue drags along my skin, up my neck to my ear before he whispers, "That was fucking great for me. How was it for you?"