Chapter 267

ALEXANDER

For a moment, I simply stood there.

Watching her.

Alina was curled beneath the sheets, her cheeks flushed with sleep, her breathing slow and even.

Peaceful.

I wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed, wrap her in my arms, and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Fuck.

I wanted to fuck her until she said she forgave me.

Until she was moaning my name and telling me she was mine again.

Until everything went back to how it was supposed to be — her in my bed, in my life, in my arms.

I’d fucked her two more times after taking her ass, and fuck if it didn’t get better every single time — raw, desperate, and so goddamn perfect I almost couldn’t believe she was real.

A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at my lips as I remembered how she’d snarled “I hate you” between broken moans just an hour ago — even as her body had given itself to me completely.

Legs wrapped around my waist like she never wanted to let go.

Nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.

Her pussy clenching around my cock like it was trying to keep me inside her forever.

Yeah, wife. You really showed me how much you hate me.

The woman who could curse me with one breath and come on my tongue with the next.

The same woman who threatened to burn my empire down while riding me like she owned every inch of me.

God, I loved her.

Even when she hated me.

Especially when she hated me.

I shook my head, the smile lingering as I quietly pulled the door shut behind me.

Some things were worth the blood on my hands.

She was worth everything.

Pretend there wasn't a garage full of problems waiting for me.

Pretend I hadn't nearly lost the woman I loved because of my own mistakes.

But reality didn't wait.

It never did.

With a quiet exhale, I dragged a hand through my hair and reached for the black shirt I'd thrown over the chair.

The ridiculous pink suit lay abandoned in a heap on the bedroom floor—

Good riddance.

I buttoned the shirt with practiced efficiency, my expression hardening with every passing second.

The warmth I'd found beside Alina lingered like a fading ember, but the moment I stepped away from our bedroom door, the weight of everything waiting downstairs settled back onto my shoulders.

My jaw tightened.

My hands curled into fists.

The husband stayed behind.

The king had work to do.

Leo was waiting for me outside the garage attached to the main cabin, arms crossed and a shit-eating grin already plastered across his face.

“Oh, how nice of you to finally tear yourself away from your wife’s pussy long enough to come deal with actual business,” he said, voice dripping with sarcastic amusement.

“I was starting to think the pink suit had permanently rerouted all your blood flow south. Glad to see you still remember you have a job, boss.”

I stopped in front of him, leveling him with a cold stare.

“Say my wife and pussy in the same sentence again,” I said quietly, dangerously,

“and I’ll cut your tongue out and feed it to you. Understood?”

The bastard.

Instead of looking intimidated, he looked like he’d just been handed the best entertainment of the week.

He raised both hands in surrender.

“Understood, boss.”

A pause.

“Very clear.”

Another pause.

“Extremely clear.”

“Leo!”

“Okay. Noted.”

He immediately turned away, muttering under his breath.

“Still worth it.”

I stared at the back of his head.

“You’re enjoying this.”

He glanced over his shoulder with an innocent expression.

“Not at all.”

A beat.

“Maybe a little.”

The absolute idiot.

I jerked my head toward the garage door.

“Let’s get this over with. I’ve got better things to do than waste time on a half dead man.”

Leo nodded, falling into step beside me as we headed inside.

The scent of blood hit me the second the door opened.

Good.

I was in the mood to make it worse.

The overhead door chains rattled as I stepped inside.

The man who had helped Santos escape was hanging naked from hooks attached to the chains, arms stretched painfully above his head.

We’d been playing with the doors — raising and lowering them a few inches at a time — to keep his shoulders in constant agony.

It looked like his arms were about to rip out of their sockets.

His face was a bloody mess.

Leo taken pliers to his teeth earlier.

The broken stubs were still visible when he tried to breathe through his mouth.

He was barely conscious, swaying slightly, blood and drool dripping from his chin.

Leo had been working on him for hours.

Not because we needed information.

Because I needed him to understand exactly who he'd crossed.

His resistance was gone.

The arrogance.

The confidence.

All of it had disappeared.

Now there was only fear.

“Where are we at with this fucker?”

I jerked my chin toward the man strung up like a side of meat.

Leo leaned against a workbench, arms crossed, looking exhausted and pissed off.

“Still breathing. Barely. He’s not talking much anymore. Probably because I pulled half his teeth out.”

I let out a low, humorless chuckle as I stepped closer to the hanging man, tilting my head to study what was left of his face.

“Good,” I said coldly.

“Means he won’t be able to scream as loud when I take the rest of them. I want him to feel every second of this.”

I walked right up to the traitor, grabbed his jaw hard enough to make the broken bones grind together, and forced his head up.

His eyes were swollen shut, lips split and bloody, face a complete mess of bruises and cuts.

“Look at you,” I said softly, my voice dripping with mocking venom.

“Don’t you look pretty. You helped that spineless bastard escape… but what the fuck did it get you? You risked your job, your loyalty, my trust — for a man who doesn’t give a single flying fuck about you. Where is he now? Isn’t he coming back to rescue his loyal little dog? No? How shocking.”

I tightened my grip until I heard a wet pop, savoring the way he whimpered like the pathetic worm he was.

“Here you are,” I continued, leaning in so close I could smell the blood and piss on him,

“at the brink of death, hanging like a side of rotting meat, and no one — no one — gives a single fuck about you. Not Santos. Not your so-called friends. Not even your own mother, I bet. Was it worth it? Betraying me for a coward who ran the second things got hard and left you here to rot?”

I smiled, slow and savage, letting him see every ounce of the monster I truly was.

“You thought you could help my enemy escape?” I whispered, voice deadly calm.

“You thought you could betray me and live to tell the tale?”

He tried to speak, but it came out as a pathetic, gurgling sob.

Pathetic.

I slammed my fist into his gut, feeling ribs crack under my knuckles.

The chains rattled violently as his body jerked like a broken puppet.

“You’re going to wish you’d never been born, you worthless piece of shit,” I promised him, voice cold as ice.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put a bullet in your skull just to make the pain stop.”

I stepped back, cracking my knuckles, already imagining what tool I’d use next.

“If it wasn’t for..” I growled, voice low and venomous,

“Santos would be the one hanging here right now. Instead, we’ve got you — you fucking bastard. A sniveling, spineless traitor who decided to play hero for the wrong fucking side. Pathetic. One bullet and we could’ve ended this nightmare. But no — this genius decided to help the rat escape. I should string you up by your balls next and let you swing until they rip clean off.”

The man let out a weak, garbled groan, barely conscious.

Good.

I wanted him to suffer.

I wanted him to feel every second of the pain he’d earned.

I grabbed a pair of pliers from the workbench, turning them over in my hands.

The metal was still stained with dried blood from earlier.

I stepped closer to the hanging man, grabbing his jaw roughly and forcing his head up. His eyes were swollen, barely open, but I saw the terror in them.

“You really thought you could betray me and simply walk away?”

I studied him in silence.

“That’s the part I can’t decide if I find insulting or amusing.”

I stepped closer.

“You weren’t caught because you were clever.”

A pause.

“You were caught because you believed you were smarter than everyone else.”

His eyes flickered.

“People like you always make the same mistake.”

My voice dropped.

“You confuse my patience with weakness.”

I glanced around the garage.

“Tell me something.”

A beat.

“Did Santos thank you?”

Silence.

“Did he promise to come back?”

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh.

“Of course not.”

I looked back at the traitor.

“You risked everything for a man who saw you as a useful tool.”

My expression hardened.

“And now you finally understand the difference between loyalty and being disposable.”

I stepped back.

“Remember this moment.”

My voice was cold.

“Not because of what happens here.”

“But because this is the moment you realize the person you trusted was never worth what you sacrificed.”

He tried to speak, but it came out as a wet, broken gurgle. I smiled without humor.

I nodded at Leo. “Raise the door another foot.”

He pushed away from the workbench, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"With pleasure...This fucker had me chasing shadows for hours. I missed dinner, missed sleep, and nearly had to explain to everyone why I was running around the mountains looking for one idiot with a hero complex.” Leo chuckled as he raised the door.

The chains rattled as the overhead door lifted, stretching the man’s arms even tighter. A muffled scream tore from his throat as his shoulders popped sickeningly.

“The bastard you helped escape…isn't just a fucking enemy."

My voice dropped, every word controlled.

“He came after the one thing in this world I would burn everything down to protect.”

I stared at him.

“My wife.”

The room went silent.

“This was never about business.”

A pause.

“Money can be replaced.”

“Territory can be reclaimed.”

“Enemies can be dealt with.”

My jaw tightened.

“But her?”

A cold smile touched my mouth.

“That was the line you crossed.”

I stepped closer.

“You didn’t just choose the wrong side.”

“You chose a man who was willing to gamble with my family.”

A humorless laugh escaped me.

“And now you’re learning the difference between making a mistake…”

My eyes hardened.

“…and making one that I personally take offense to.”

I tilted my head slightly.

“You should have run from Santos.”

A beat.

“But you were too loyal to a man who wouldn’t even turn around for you.”

My expression went cold.

“That’s your tragedy.”

“You betrayed the person who would remember your name…”

“For someone who already forgot it.”