Chapter Thirty-Seven

Sweating and in tears, Dev bit her lip in anticipation of another sting from the cruel weapon in Bagani’s hand. He struck without warning, and it didn’t matter if she’d been paying rapt attention or not. He kept hitting her left breast until the poor swollen mound of flesh twitched and burned as if he’d set it on fire. What was he going to do next?

She tried not to scream and cry, but this was all a game, a contest with him. With each snap of his wrist, she writhed in bitter agony, while he stared and studied her like an insect. There was no escape. Bagani was the big scary cat, and she was the tiny little mouse, caught in a trap from which there was only one way out. Where once she’d prayed for one more chance to see Scottie, now she prayed for the quick death she knew wasn’t in her future, not with the other tools Bagani had yet to use.

God! Kill me now, just kill me! Yet simultaneously she prayed, I’m too young to die!

Joachim had moved to the heavily curtained window, the edge of it barely pushed aside, watching for someone, hopefully the police. Occasionally, he’d glance over his shoulder at her, but there was no remorse in his eyes and no kindness. Only an odd excitement that made Dev’s skin crawl, while she shivered and trembled beneath Bagani’s skilled touch. The asses!

What the hell turned men into animals like these guys? What pleasure was there in tormenting another human being? In torturing a defenseless woman?

“Mr. Valentine’s here,” Joachim said calmly as he walked to the door and opened it.

The last thing Dev needed. Another Inquisitor.

Sly ducked into the room with a hurried, “Sorry I’m late, your Highness.” He came to stand behind Bagani, the same freakish glitter in his eyes that gleamed in Joachim’s. “I had a little problem at the club last night. One of the girls, you understand,” he said as he rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows. “We can start now.”

“N-no,” Dev whimpered. “Please, s-s-stop. I’ll be good. Just don’t—” Whip! “No! Ahh! Stop!”

But Bagani struck again, and she didn’t know how much more pain she could take.

“But you’re already a good girl,” he purred, as he dragged the hook over the mesh bra and tugged the cup down, exposing her. “In fact, you’re perfect. Look, my friend,” he said, glancing up at Sly who all but drooled at the sight of her tortured breast. “All I have to do is this…” Whip! He struck again, hitting her naked skin, and this time, Bagani chuckled when she shrieked. “You were right, she is a responsive one, and she knows my real name.” Whip!

“Master!” Dev screamed. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Brushing past Bagani, Sly rounded the bed to stand at her other side. “Because women like you need men like me,” he growled as he leaned into her face and squeezed her poor, battered breast.

“Stop!” she squealed, writhing, her wrists and ankles raw and bleeding. She could smell her own blood and sweat, yet this nightmare would not end!

Sly laughed. “Oh, just wait, my lovely, spoiled prima donna. I’ve been watching since you moved into my turf. Playtime’s just beginning. You live for the pain, and I’m here to make sure you get what you like.”

BLAM! What was that? It sounded like someone had just kicked the door in.

Dev jerked her head around at that noise, but she couldn’t see past Bagani to know for sure. Suddenly as still as a stone, he’d crossed his arms, a weird, detached smile on his face.

Sly pressed a knife under her chin just as someone fired a shot, and Joachim fell to the floor behind the prince. Sly pricked her neck with the tip of the blade and bellowed, “Stop or she dies!”

“Don’t listen to him! Help me!” she screamed at whoever’d come to her rescue.

A beat of silence, then a tortured, “Dev? Is that you?”

“Cord? Yes!” she screamed even as Sly pricked her again. “Get me out of here!”

Bagani sat there as silent as a schoolboy, the bloody weapon of choice still in his clean hands.

“Let her up,” Cord snapped from somewhere beyond Dev’s visual range.

“Not happening,” Sly bit out, his dark hair dangling into his face. “Get your ass out of here, Shepherd, or I’ll stick her. I swear I will. She’ll bleed out before you get to her.”

“You think I can’t hit you from here?”

“You think I can’t cut her throat if you’re stupid enough to try?” Sly shot back at him. “Are you willing to take that risk, Shepherd? Are you ready to watch your sister die?”

“No. He’s not,” a strange woman’s voice rang out.

“What the fuck?” Cord growled.

No, no, no! Dev craned her neck to see what was happening. Bagani finally shifted to his left and Dev saw Cord then. He had both hands over his head as the shorthaired woman with the gun in his neck stripped the pistol from his fingers.

“Inside, Mr. Shepherd,” she ordered. “I’m not opposed to wasting a good man but trust me. I will.”

“Dev, I’m sorry,” he bit out as the woman walked him over to the chair Joachim had been sitting in.

This cannot be happening!

“Stab his sister if he makes one move,” the woman told Sly while she holstered her pistol, handed Cord a set of metal cuffs, and said, “You know what to do.”

Cord sneered at her, but cuffed himself. “Now what?” he asked as he towered over her. Hissing and his teeth chattering, he dropped to the floor. The woman had hit him in the chest with the taser she’d pulled from beneath her jacket.

“Who are you?” Dev asked, her last hope gone, and her heart broken for Cord. This was all her fault.

“Giselle Montego,” the blonde replied as she stuck the taser in her waistband.

“You’re… you’re Roland Montego’s wife?”

Giselle winked. “I’m one of many women that he, shall we say, plays with? And now you can be, too.”