The cost of my decision came due that same night. Its name was Blayne.
He had me tied in his room until morning. Naked, if it mattered—which it did, because humiliation is always part of his vocabulary.
I was hollowed out. Energy had become a luxury I couldn't afford.
My wrists hurt from being stretched high above my head all night. My feet touched the floor, but it didn't help; the strain crawled up my waist and nested in my bones.
And my back—it felt every sting. The devil had whipped me until I nearly blacked out. He hadn't been this furious at me in a long time.
The first time had been when I bit a man's dick. He was my first 'client.' I'd been in tears, telling him I didn't want to be touched. But he shoved his dick in my mouth, telling me to get him wet before he fucked me. Biting him had been close to an accident, really. I just needed a way to defend myself.
But Blayne had been so furious I still carried scars from that day.
Sunlight crept through the window, laying a fragile warmth across my face. My eyes stayed shut, my body hoarding whatever scraps of energy it could salvage.
I heard footsteps and my pulse skipped, tripped, then sprinted. It was Blayne. He was back.
I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was asleep. Maybe that'd make him leave me alone.
He proved me wrong by greeting me with a whip. Shit. In return, I answered with a yelp.
My wet eyes flew open to find the devil himself staring at me. He seemed calmer now. Last night, he'd been a storm.
"Getting some beauty sleep?" He taunted. "You should. The fight is tonight, after all."
I blinked against the fresh tears already gathering in my eyes.
"The Hollow Brothers and Ash Twins have been my greatest clients. You do realize tonight I'd be losing one of them? Not to mention the war that would break out after that. Or you think one brother will sit quiet while the other is buried?"
I bit my tongue. Last night I'd wasted every word I had trying to reason with him. He hadn't cared then. He wouldn't now.
"I told you the Ash Twins were yours!" The whip cracked again. "Who the fuck did you think you are to ask the Brothers for help?" Another blow. His fury climbed rung by rung.
Both times I screamed, my head snapping back like my body wanted to leave itself.
"Blayne, please. Please."
If he kept up with this, the men wouldn't have a reason to fight tonight 'cause I'd be dead.
He grabbed my face, his fingers carving into my cheeks. My whimper spilled as he yanked me close, his breath burning between us.
"You better pray more blood doesn't get spilled in my club. Otherwise, I swear to fuck, you'd regret the day you ever knew me."
He shoved me back and drifted toward the table. Too calmly. He poured tea, steam curling into the air as though none of this had happened.
I sniffled, watching him lift the cup. The sound of him swallowing warm, sweet liquid made my throat ache raw. I'd been thirsty for so long, even water sounded like heaven.
A knock rattled the door before it opened to reveal Lucien.
He was usually a smirky monster. Today, however, his face was locked, grim and humourless.
He spared me a glance, then cut a straight line to Blayne.
"I just got a call. Maron's parlor was attacked last night."
Blayne dropped his cup of tea as he turned his soured expression to Blayne.
I closed my eyes, deciding to rest with the little time I had.


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