Nikolai
Something in me wrenches apart as I watch Finnegan take my Rose from my home.
Something breaks.
That fucker was in my house. He thinks he’s won. He thinks I’ve given up my Rose for a pathetic two million? Rose for that pittance and a maid?
I feel sick.
We’re sitting in the guardhouse where we can see the door. I’ve been watching the video feed from the house on my tablet, gripping it so tight, it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.
I want to take out Finnegan now, but I can’t. Mia is with an armed guard, taking care of Sylvie. The moment Derek’s pimped out car rolls through my gates, Mia and Sylvie are free.
Finnegan won’t harm them. I’ve lost and he’s won and he’s not going to risk his only offspring now by taking out someone as inconsequential as the maid.
Watching those men touch Rose, carry her unconscious body out, her bare ass flashing in their fucking arms as they do, my shirt buttoned, I want to rip their hearts out with my bare hands and force feed them their own hearts in the last seconds of their lives.
I want to take my Rose and murder her father, screw Sylvie and everyone else.
Fuck my fucking plan.
The urge is so strong to do it, and it’s only Rush’s hand gripping my shoulder that keeps me there, grounded. I feel like my insides are being ripped out through my nose, and I can do nothing but watch as they bundle Rose in and drive off.
As they pass through the gate, Tony meets my gaze. “Sylvie’s safe. Mia, too.”
“Good.” Rush breathes out a sigh of relief. “Things are going to plan.”
I don’t respond. I’m shaking inside with the need to go after Finnegan, guns blazing.
I don’t.
I can’t.
Rose. Sweet Rose. Somewhere along the way, she stopped reminding me of her father and just became her. I don’t know when it happened, when I really stopped not giving a fuck about her fate, but it happened.
I could tell myself that I still might kill her, that I don’t care, but the rage in me now, the pain, the churning of my guts? Even if I lied with conviction to the point of delusion, these feelings inside would have shattered that.
My Rose…
My Rose is gone.
I rub a hand over my face and Rush’s hand tightens. What am I fucking thinking?
Rose was never really mine, even if I made her give herself, body and soul, to me.
She was a means to an end, a steppingstone.
I want to make her father suffer before I move in and take it all. I’m going to let him live long enough to know he needs to learn chess. He might have got the check, but my checkmate is up my sleeve. I’m losing to loosen my queen and take the entire board.
I’ve already taken the one thing his daughter had. I fucked her.
Next?
I’m going to take his fortune. His territory. His businesses. His connections. His allies. His men. His power. His life.
To do that, I have to lose. I have to let him take her. I have to let her go.
My revenge is going to be slow and brutal, worse than what Finnegan put my aunt and uncle through. It’s payback for Sylvie and all the girls he’s taken, broken in and put to work, turned into cum rags and dolls to abuse, tricks to turn out for money until they’re useless.
“All working?” I ask. My voice is at direct opposition to how I feel. It’s calm and steel and emotionless.
“Hang on.” Rush looks at me a moment. “I’ll check.”
He doesn’t let go of me. He knows me a little too well and I told him not to let me out that fucking door. Rush had looked at me with questions in his eyes that didn’t need to be spoken to be understood. He knows she means something… meant something. I needed to be stopped if, for some reason, I did something stupid. His hand reminded me, grounded me, kept me here.
I breathe out.
He’s glancing at his phone, but he doesn’t show it to me. Instead, he inclines his head to the far corner. I indulge him, even though it feels like a part of me was stolen when she was taken, like something is missing.
I keep that to myself.
“What is it, Rush? If it’s not working, I’m going to lose my shit.”
He takes in my mild tone, and he sees what’s beneath it as a muscle works in his jaw.
“Niko, I have to ask. Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
He sighs. “Lie to everyone else, I don’t give a fuck, but dude, I know you. I’ve seen you with her. I watched-”
My gaze cuts to hm and he stops. Flinches.
“Not any of your filthy times with her. Jesus, I don’t need that. You’re basically my brother, and…” He shudders.
In a different situation, I might find that amusing.
Might.
Not now.
“Get to the fucking point, Rush. Is it working?”
He ignores me. “I saw you change when you thought of her, spoke about her. You like her more than you want to admit and that makes this dangerous.”
“I let her go, Rush. My plan is everything. Wanting to fuck her doesn’t mean I’m about to be her knight in shining armor. I’m not a hero. I’m a monster. I don’t let anything get in the way of my plans, especially a girl.” He breathes out. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
Rush nods and then shows me his phone. There’s a little dot traveling on a map.
Rose.
It’s why she needed to go, why she’s so damn integral in my new plan.
My plan for my revenge is, as I said, going to be slow and brutal. For that, I need Rose to unwittingly lead me into Derek Finnegan’s secret lair, his safe and secret compound.
He could hide out for years, making cowardly strikes, amassing his fortune and running his businesses remotely.
I know that’s going to happen.
Cowards always stay cowards.
So, I had a tracker sewn into the button of my shirt, which she’s wearing. To be safe, I slid a pretty pin in her hair while she slept with a tracker in the setting of the small jewel. There’s one in her bracelet, too. I left that on.
She’ll try and keep the shirt. She’ll definitely keep the bracelet. If he takes it because I gave it to her, the pin is something she will hide and keep.
Rose is a fighter, and she’ll want something of me, of our time together.
A strange sort of comfort.
I’m in her blood now.
She’ll be able to lead me through the trackers to where her father is.
When they get there, I’ll start my revenge plan. The real one.
I’m going to destroy him. Just like I said.
And Rose?
Well, maybe I’ll take her as part of the spoils. It probably isn’t my smartest move, but I’ve gown quite fond of her and our time together.
Yes. I’ll have her again.
After all, she is mine.
My Rose.
My beautiful little flower with delicate petals and sharpened thorns.