Page 136 of Saint
Boris is over two hundred pounds of pure muscle, and he likes his men submissive and leather bound.
Which explains the assless chaps lying on the floor, I suppose. Along with the empty bottle of lube.
Scarlett doesn’t miss them, of course, but she doesn’t ask about them either.
She’s staring at the first bloke. Quinn.
And he’s looking at her too.
He knows what awaits him.
“I’m sorry,” he tells her. It’s a plea for mercy, but it won’t be found here.
If I had it my way, I’d be the one to tell him that. While I bled him out, I’d look into his eyes and tell him that he never should have touched my Satan.
And if I could kill him a thousand different ways, I would.
But this is what Scarlett wanted.
What she asked for.
And even if I don’t agree with it, I have to respect her for it.
She showed me yesterday, how fierce she really is. She was fearless, crazy, and hot as fuck with that AK-47 in her hands, blowing up the place.
But today, she is placid.
Soft, and… vulnerable.
She’s beautiful either way, but I’ve never seen her like this.
She’s clutching the knife in her hand too tightly, her knuckles are white, and she isn’t moving. I don’t even know if she’s breathing, she’s so still.
We stand there like that for a long time, and I don’t say a word.
This is a process she needs to work through on her own. A decision she needs to come to on her own.
I don’t want any lingering resentment from her. And I don’t want to push her.
But it turns out, I don’t need to.
The knife in her hand clatters to the floor and she turns into my arms at the same time I pull her towards me.
“I can’t do it,” she whispers into my chest. “I don’t want to do it.”
“It’s okay, baby doll,” I assure her. “I will.”
She nods against me, but neither of us moves for a long time. And then gradually she pulls away, leaning up to pull my face to hers and kisses me.
That kiss conveys the words she can’t tell me herself.
Thank you.
A part of me always knew it would come to this.
I have no guilt for what’s about to go down in this room, and there will be no guilt after. I would kill a thousand men for Scarlett. I would torture them and bleed them dry if it brought her peace.
“Go upstairs,” I instruct her. “Take a bath. And when I’m done, we’ll go home.”
