Warning this chapter contains a Noncon. Readers should read with Discretion.
The body is still warm when I get there.
The slaughterhouse reeks of death—not fresh death, but personal death. Intimate. Slow. The kind of death that makes the killer take their time, not because they need to... but because they want to. Coco is strung up like a marionette. Chest open, ribs fractured like blooming petals. A rose carved into his skin—not painted, not drawn. Etched. And his mouth... his mouth is stuffed with a thornless stem.
I don't need forensics. I don't need a profile. This isn't a cartel. This isn't some kind war declaration.
This is her.
I stand in the silence, gloved hands at my sides, coat open, wind licking at the edges of my sleeves. The officers outside didn't enter. I tell them not to. Because this isn't their crime scene. It is mine.
I circle around the body. Each step measured. My shoes click across old concrete as I study every detail.
The cut pattern is symmetrical. Surgical. The bleeding was controlled. She knew when to cut and when to wait. Where to apply pain without breaking the machine too fast. There are no defensive wounds. He was restrained.
And judging by the soaked metal basin beneath him, she kept him alive for hours.
This is a ritual.
This was a fucking love letter.
I crouch beside him, eyes fixed on the open cavity in his chest. And I feel something I haven't felt in years. Not fear. Not anger.
It is desire. The way my heart pounds, it has never beat like that. "Oh, little kitty, you are taking out the right people for me."
Back in the car, I don't speak for a long time.
Marek says nothing as he drives. Smart man.
But I feel him watching me in the rearview mirror. Wondering what this means. Who has done it? Why am I so quiet.
I'm not quiet because I'm angry. I'm quiet because I'm hard.
Hard from the precision. The arrogance. The clarity of the message. She might as well have kissed my mouth and left her blood on my lips.
DE LUNA ESTATE – 3:41 AM
I pour myself a glass of whiskey and stand in front of the surveillance wall. Paused on a frame.
Liach walks into HQ two days ago. Simple pencil skirt. Pink blouse. A file under her arm. Walking around assembling files.
The way her heel hits, just a little harder than usual. The way she breathes is different.
I rewind five seconds. Watch again. She smiles at the front desk.
That little fucking smile.
A smile that says: You won't see me coming. You'll only feel it after it's inside you.
Don't worry baby, I'm inside you already. It's only that, you are taking your time to notice.
I lean back in the leather chair and close my eyes.
Coco has been disposed of not that he's of any use to me. I've always wanted to kill him. After my father's death he starts doing everything and anything he wants. From rape, to extorting from the poor, to innocent murdering. He's a disgusting scumbag.
He isn't someone I want to mourn. But the kill—the style of it—the performance... It was cruel. You can't see that and not feel sorry.
I thought she kills only for Cisco.
Now? Now I know better.
It isn't business alone. It is her style of getting back at me for touching her.
She came for me, then she infiltrated my home. My company. My head. And now she was killing for herself. Not to impress her father. Not to obey. But to show me. To pull the leash she wants to place on my neck.
And God help me, I like the tension in my throat. Because she isn't trying to kill me anymore. She is trying to seduce me in blood. And it's working.
She arrives at the same time she always does. 7:00 sharp, walking in that estate. Her hair neat, clothes flawless. I wait for her at the entrance leading to the office.
Her eyes flicker—slightly—to my hand. The one resting on the security turnstile. She slows her pace, then smiles politely.
"Good morning, Mr. De Luna."
I say nothing, as I step forward closing the distance between us, inches from her.
Her perfume is the same. But there is something underneath it now. Steel and blood.
She tilts her head. "Something wrong?" She asks.
I let my eyes trail down her body, taking my time.
Should I ask her where she was during the weekend? No.
Then I look back into her eyes and murmur low and slow, "You smell dangerous."
Her smile doesn't falter, but her breath hitches. "I've always been dangerous, thank you for the compliment, Sir," she says, still smiling.
You sure are.
"How come? I wouldn't have guessed. You seem so... organise. Is the danger hidden in the perfectly aligned pens on your desk?"
She hesitates for a moment, pressing her hand to her chest. "Dangerous in all ways that keep things interesting, especially in a place where secrets tend to collect like dust in the corners; like keeping my 'Boss empire safe.'"
"Mhm." I lean close. My lips at her ear. "You're starting to act too much like it."
I let the words hang between us. Let the heat bleed into the space. Then step back and nod toward the elevator.
"Come up. We have a file to review." She follows.
As we step into that elevator, I continue. "You said a have a brother right?" I ask.
"Yes Sir."
"How old is he?"
"Nine."
"Do you love him, Liach?"
She hesitates for while. Probably contemplating; why would I be asking about that. Maybe to kill him and see you whine in pain.
"Yes I do." She replies, "He's the only person I have to in this world after my parents death, and I love him so much."
Last I remember, Cisco is still breathing heavily and fine.
"That's nice." I reply, as we exit the elevator, walk into the hallway leading to the office.
After some minutes, she walks in with my coffee in hand.
"Bring it here, Ms. Liach." I instruct her before she place it on my desk.
She frowns a little but walks around the table toward me. As she place the cup in my hand, I let it slip, splashing the coffee everywhere as the cup breaks.
"What's this, Ms. Liach?" I bark angrily.
"I'm sorry Sir, I'll make another one right away."
I say nothing, as she makes her way to the coffee room.
After she left, I take off my jacket, roll up my sleeves and follow hehind her. Her back is turned to the door when I walk inside as she brews the coffee.
For a while I stand by the door watching her, then proceeds into the room. I place my arms around her waist the moment I reach her, causing her to flinch.
"Sir, what are you doing," she inquires, frowning.
I say nothing, turn her around facing me, taking her face in my hand tilting it upwards.
"Ms. Liach, has anyone told you, you have beautiful eye?"
She furrows her brow, says nothing.
So, I proceed, as I press my body against hers, trailing my fingers on her cold skin, through her thigh going further upwards lifting her skirt up, staring into her eyes.
She says nothing, acting like she's not affected. But her eyes are darting nervously.
A smile plays on my face. What? Have enough already? It's too early, Liach.
I place both of my hands on her thighs, sliding my hands under her skirt, as each hand glides to her buttocks, two fingers each resting on her honeypot from beneath her thigh, pressing against core, brushing her entrance. I feel the heat exuding from her panties, between her thighs, on my fingers, as I pick her up onto the coffee table.
Her breath hitches, face red, her skin hot.
"Sir," she shouts pushing me back, but I don't budge. "This is unprofessional." She continues.
I stay silent, boxing her within me. Both my hands at each of her side, my face inches from hers, eyes on hers. I can feel the hatred within her. I can feel her trembling slightly.
I want you to know, Liach, that I can hurt, touch, and humiliate you. And make a fool of you
"Don't worry, Ms. Liach, I'm not going to eat you up." I press further, my lips touching hers. She flinches, then I trail my lips to her neck, as I bring out my tongue, trailing it on the side of her neck. She inhales sharply, pushing me frantically and hard, I hold her hand in place, pinning her still. Continue licking her neck, then suck on it, leaving a mark.
"Take your filthy hands off of me." Liach bark
The room echoes, as my face turns to the side by the hard, profound slap she sends across my face, pushing me backwards, as she jump down from the coffee table. Her eyes are bloodshot, fury burns within them, her knuckles white from clenching her fist too tightly.
"Make your coffee yours, Mr De Luna." Still struggling to gain distance from me.
What? Is this not what your Papa sent you to do, Liach?
I hold her gaze, a smirk playing on my lips.
I was expecting her to react at the moment I kissed her by that neck.
She took her time!
Well I guess me pinning her down, restricted her movement.
Her struggles were delicious!
I step back, wipe the little crack of blood at the corner of my lips with my tongue. And exhale in satisfaction, then step to the side to give her space. Watching her as she storms off.
Is this the only act of self-preservation you can come up with? Pathetic.