Page 44 of Awakening the Beast
I roll my lips inward, stifling a laugh that’s creeping up my throat.
“So, tell me, where the fuck have you been?”he demands again.
I stay silent, not wanting to talk with him about it right now, especially since he’s dealing with an important task.
“I’ll speak to you later about it.”
He’s quiet on the other end, probably sensing that I’m withholding something. His men tracked me to my parents’ house, so he probably has an inkling of what’s happened and what I’ve done, but he’s testing me to see if I’ll be honest with him.
“Look, I’m almost home, so I guess I’ll speak to you soon, okay?”I say, trying to wrap up the conversation.“I love you.”
Before he could respond, I quickly end the call, not wanting him to probe any more. As soon as I disconnect, a text message pops up on the screen and I glance at it,
[You’ll be punished for that, slut.]
A smile tugs at my lips as I roll my eyes, driving through the towering iron gates of our home.
I grit my teeth, the tension bubbling as I stare straight ahead, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. She hasn’t replied to my threat—probably because she knows exactly what I’m thinking.Wren.Always doing the total opposite of what I ask. Why else would she sneak off to see her parents without telling me? I told her not to do it, but she’s a stubborn fucking brat, doing whatever the fuck she wants.
My eyes flick to the rearview mirror, scanning the cars belonging to my men. Jasper is close behind, and I can see the others spaced out, forming the convoy. I glance ahead again, mind racing through today’s operation.
Savannah, like the arrogant little bitch she is, set up shop just outside the city in some backwoods hellhole. She’s holed up with a stash of drugs that could supply half the fucking East Coast and where there’s drugs, there’s guns. Plenty of them. She probably has a pack of wannabe soldiers ready to defend her pathetic empire.
But she has no fucking clue what’s coming. Me and my men, we’re not just some thugs from the streets. I run the most ruthless criminal firm in the country. We’ve taken down bigger,smarter, and better armed than her, and tonight, we’ll run through anyone who stands in our way. By the time I’m done, Savannah’s little kingdom will crumble. She’ll have no idea what hit her. The thought of seeing her smug face when I take it all from her fuels me. It’s going to be fucking priceless.
The darkness cloaks us as we approach the outskirts of the target area. I kill the engine and step out of my Lamborghini, the quiet purr of the car fading into the night. I light a cigarette, the flicker of the flame briefly illuminating my face, then exhale slowly, watching the smoke curl around me.
My men are already gathered, standing like threats in the shadows, their weapons gleaming under the faint light. Dressed in black balaclavas, they’re silent, deadly, and waiting for my order. I glance around, taking in the scene. The calm before the storm. My fingers tap lightly against the butt of the cigarette as I size them up, making sure they understand the seriousness of what’s about to go down.
“You know the drill. You’ve taken out bigger setups than this, so don’t let some small-time shop make a fool out of you. None of my men are dying tonight. Got it?”
They all nod and I gesture with my head toward the rundown building ahead. “Go in, do what you do best, and remember—Savannah Thorell is mine. Leave her to me.”
Without hesitation, they move out and Jasper steps beside me. I take one last drag, letting the nicotine settle before tossing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under my pristine shoe. The stillness returns, but it’s misleading. The violence is close—just waiting to be unleashed.
Jasper and I exchange a brief look, and in sync, we draw our guns, the metallic click of them snapping back in unison. Suddenly, women’s screams rip through the air, sharp and panicked. I lift an eyebrow, and I glance at Jasper, who mirrors my expression before we walk forward.
As I step into the dimly lit, run-down building, the eerie glow of red lights flooding the space immediately puts me on edge. The air feels heavy, dense with the stench of blood, fear and desperation, an atmosphere I know all too well. I glance back at Jasper, who's right behind me, his eyes scanning the hall.
“This place feels off,” I mutter. “Looks like a sex trafficking house. Watch your fucking shots.”
Jasper gives a small nod, understanding the situation. We move slowly down the grimy, narrow hallway, its walls smeared with dirt and decay. My men are thoroughly sweeping each room, their presence sending half-naked, terrified women rushing for safety. Their screams echo off the walls, adding to the madness.
I pause, my senses sharpening as a feeling of déjà vu creeps in. The scene around me—women huddled in fright, dim red lights creating strange shadows—it all feels too familiar of a childhood I’ve tried to forget. My stomach churns as memories of places like this, where my own parents had dragged me, flash through my mind. I grit my teeth, forcing the thoughts down.
A sudden movement catches my attention from the corner of my eye, and I turn to an open door beside me. Inside, a young woman sits curled on the floor, naked and shaking, her kneespulled up to her chest. Blood trickles down her legs, pooling beneath her, and her sobs are the only sound in the room.
My jaw tightens, bile rising in my throat as I take a cautious step into the room. My eyes flick to the bed—an older man is laid naked and motionless with a bullet in his head, clearly one of my men’s kills. I refocus on the woman, her dark hair hanging limply around her tear-streaked and bruised face. Her entire body rattles as I approach, her anxiety clear. Slowly, I tuck my pistol into the waistband of my pants and shrug off my suit jacket.
Crouching in front of her, I keep my tone of voice quiet, trying to keep the threat out of it. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I reassure her.
Her wide, terrified eyes flash to mine, red from crying, unsure whether to trust me. I offer her the jacket, and she hesitates before slowly reaching out with a trembling hand. I can see the wariness in her gaze, the disbelief that someone might be showing her kindness in a place like this.
“Do you have family?” I ask.
She slides one arm into the jacket, her movements stiff, broken. Jasper and I both veer our eyes as she pulls it tightly around her battered body, a small hint of dignity restored in the shithole she’s been trapped in.
When she’s finally covered, I meet her blue eyes again. She’s still cautious, but there's a flicker of hope behind the terror now. After a moment, she gives a small, hesitant nod in response to my question. She’s got someone out there; someone she can go to.
