The Devil's Plaything - Page 69

I was taken.

I was stolen from my captor and imprisoned by my attacker.

All the while I spent with Victor as his prisoner, I was never hurt. He may have threatened me, but his affection for me won out. The man who took from me, who forced himself in me was Rodrigo Alvarez, and I feel the bile rising up to my throat once more.

My gaze snaps open, and the harshness of the bulbs above me burn my retinas. My body convulses, and I choke out the acidic fluid. My body is held, I’m kept on my side while I puke up my guts. And it doesn’t take long for me to empty everything that was inside me into a bucket.

When there’s nothing left, I lie back and meet those golden eyes of my savior. He looks at me as if I’m fragile, as if I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He wipes my mouth with something warm, and he cleans the rest of my mess with the caring of a man lost to love.

“You scared me,” he tells me. My chest aches. There’s pain shooting through me, but something warms my veins in the next second, and I turn to see the drip that’s plugged into my arm.

The drugs work quickly, and the pain, that had appeared, eases. Victor’s lips press against my forehead, and he settles in the chair beside my bed. It’s strange to see him in this setting. I never would’ve pictured a man like him to be in a hospital waiting for someone he cares for.

“W-w-where’s… R-R-Rodrigo?” I choke out the words, my throat feels as if it’s filled with sand, and before he answers, Victor brings a glass toward me with a straw peeking out at me. Gingerly, I accept the offering and suck the cool liquid into my mouth. It feels so good, but I know I mustn’t overdo it.

“He’s been taken care of,” Victor finally tells me, once I’m lying back again. “I made sure that he won’t ever see the light of day again.”

“W-w-what d-d-did y-you do?” I’m curious to know what a man like Victor Cordero is capable of. When he cares for someone, he does bad things, but if he hates someone, what on earth would he have done?

“I throat fucked him with my knife,” he tells me, as if he’s recalling a fun day out at the beach. “But not before I shot his dick off.” He shrugs nonchalantly, as if he’s telling me about a daily occurrence that is natural, and not at all violent. I know he’s a Cartel leader, and I’ve seen firsthand how he chopped someone’s fingers off, but the thought of him doing that still causes me to shudder.

“Y-y-you sent me to him. You g-g-gave me up to R-R—” I can’t bring myself to say his name as the burn of acid thickens in my throat. I’m conflicted by the man I love and the man who sent me away, and they’re the same fucking person. I don’t know how to feel—pain and anger make my chest hurt, but then the happiness and elation that he found me trump all that rage. I want to cry, I want to bawl my eyes out, just to let myself expel the hurt.

“I was a fucking idiot. Stupidity won out, and I will spend the rest of my life paying for it. The guilt of what I put you through…” His words taper off, silence hangs between us, and then Victor’s gaze locks on mine. His eyes, which are normally filled with either desire or cocky mischief, are now burning with agonizing remorse.

“Y-y-you r-really wanted m-me gone?” Tears burn my eyes. The pain of his betrayal still stings, and I can’t breathe because all I can think about is how I was violated because of Victor’s rage. He didn’t believe me and it stings, my heart aches so fiercely, my breath is stolen.

“Never. I never fucking wanted you gone. And when you were, I realized just how much I’d fucked up. You scared me in ways I never felt before. You made me love even when I knew I could never be capable of such an emotion.” This time, it’s Victor who blinks, and I’m awed by the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I love you, Sofía. I am in-fucking-love with you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone before. You are my life,” he insists, his voice thick with emotion, and my heart stills for a second.

I can’t deal with the tears right now, even though we do need to talk this out some more, I need to focus on something else, so I ask, “T-t-tell me w-w-what h-happened next?”

A victorious smile, one I’ve come to love, paints his face with a light that I haven’t seen on this man ever. And he leans in, his hot breath at my ear, and he whispers, “I burned him alive. I watched as his skin sizzled.”

Tags: Dani Rene Erotic
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