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Chapter 3

Bram

Red. All I saw was red as I let the guard’s body fall to the bottom of the shower. He’d been standing at the far side, holding to slave Vicolette when I burst into the restroom. I hadn’t even remembered he was there after I saw Torrance raping my slave. Nothing mattered in that split second but killing my cousin. Blood-related or not, Torrance disobeyed my orders. Orders, I was very specific on. Situation in room two-fourteen, detain the slave. Don’t hurt her.

I turned, heading back into the bedroom. The covers were pulled back on the bed, no doubt from when the girl woke up. She’d been sleeping when I left this apartment. Then again, her Master had also been alive, then.

“Slave.” The name came out more as a growl and I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fury inside. “Don’t make me call you again. If I have to look for you, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

A few seconds passed before dark, wet hair swayed into view from the entrance of the closet. Blue eyes peeked out, giving view to her thin nose and full lips as she took a step. She was beautiful, even with the tears sliding down her cheeks. She eased closer, pulling the robe around her tight. “I didn’t do it. I swear, Mr. Whitlock. I didn’t kill my master. Please don’t

send me to the White Room. I swear—”

“Enough.”

A sniffle left her and her head lowered while she sobbed. I walked around the bed, narrowing my eyes as she glanced up through wet lashes.

“You’re to be sent to Slave Row. Your master is dead. You will be resold. First, you’ll follow me and do exactly as I say. If you do not, the guards will escort you to the Board where you’ll face trail.”

Wide eyes flared through her internal panic. I knew that expression.

She was terrified, as she should be. Trial almost always meant certain death. Slave Vicolette wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. “Come.”

I headed toward the door, catching a glimpse of my blood-drenched self in the mirror as I breached the living room. The splatter speckled my face and my white shirt exposed behind the dark suit jacket was drenched in the red substance. The sight was enough to have me slowing. This person, this monster, was me. The real me. Compared to the famous lawyer everyone knew as Bram Whitlock, this man was a stranger. Hardly even recognizable to me anymore. There was no warm smile. No honor or nobility to be found. I liked this version more. Here, I didn’t have to pretend to be normal or sane. This underground fortress was mine. I ruled here. My word was law, and I had authority even the most powerful men in the world didn’t hold. They were under my roof … obeying me.

Slave Vicolette’s reflection stopped next to mine and I met her redrimmed eyes for only a moment before her head lowered again. But her vision didn’t go to the ground, it went to her master’s dead body.

“Are you happy to be rid of him?”

“What?” At my silence, her stare rose back to me. “No. God, no…” she trailed off, not able to hold in the sob that left her shoulders shaking.

“He beat you, yet you seem to have cared for him. Am I correct by my assumptions?”

“He may have beat me, but he was kind. Gentle, even. He used to hold and sing to me. He was a g-good man.”

Brainwashed fool. “He was a pedophile, piece of shit. You wouldn’t know a good man if he was standing before you. Do you so easily block out what he did to you the first day he bought you? How about when I found you at fourteen years old? You didn’t try to kill yourself for nothing. He raped you for years before he broke you. And that’s what you are. A broken toy for sick, twisted fucks who have a lot of money. Although, this time, I don’t believe you’ll do as well as you did with your previous master.

You’ve been shielded for too long from the horrors of this place.”

I didn’t wait for her reaction. I turned, heading for the door to the apartment and swinging it open. Five guards stood outside the door, but it was hard to pay them any attention when I felt my slave’s presence so strong behind me.

“Have this mess cleaned up. Master Vicolette and Torrance’s bodies are to go to the holding room. Slave Vicolette—” I glanced back at her. “Slave Vicolette is to be showered and then escorted to Slave Row. She’s no longer claimed. She’s dead like her master and therefor loses her title.

Twenty-four-six-ninety. That’s who you are, again,” I said, glaring into her light, blue depths.

“P-please, Mr. Whitlock.” Her head shook back and forth in small movements. The long length was curling due to the dampness and I hated how in so many of my dreams, I’d gripped to the beautiful tresses, loving how I could almost feel the softness between my fingers. Feel something I never would. Perhaps I was bitter and cruel, but being around her for any length of time made me soft. I couldn’t afford that and neither could she.

“You’re to be stripped of your title and stripped of your finery.” I reached out, ripping the delicate gold chain off of her neck. The heart pendant made me sick. I knew when she’d gotten it—Christmas, four years ago.

“When they get you cleaned up, you’re to go to Medical. Afterward, your hair is to be cut short. Slaves don’t have the luxury of long hair. If I

hear of you giving anyone problems, I will deal with you personally. I’m still on the fence about having you taken to the White Room. Don’t give me the excuse I need to send you there.” I let my stare come back to the guards.

“No one touches her; do you hear me?”

“Yes, Master.”

The words echoed through the hall around me and I met Billy’s gaze. The blond guard wasn’t getting off so easily. Once I viewed the tapes and saw exactly what he’d done, his time would come.

“I want word when she’s locked up. Lyle, you’re promoted to high leader. I expect a full report.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

My hand rose, pointing to twenty-four-six-ninety. “Anyone lays a hand on her in any way that’s inappropriate, kill them. If you don’t, your life is mine. Don’t for one-second think I don’t see everything that happens here. The shadows hide nothing, and she’s going to make me money. It may not be a lot, but no one messes with my investments.”

“She will remain untouched.”

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