Chapter 161 Even Sharks Bleed
INTERLUDE
“Why are you so fixated on this girl so much?” The man leaning against the couch opposite the chair Elias Monroe was seated on asked with a raised brow.
Elias’s lips pulled up into a small smile. He swiveled around in his ergonomic chair and looked at the man.
“Fixated? I would not say I am fixated,” he replied, his words flat but the smirk still lingering on his lips.
“Are you bullshitting me right now? Is that not Ravial Ashbourne’s wife picture splattered all over your screen — Avery Hale?”
Elias turned and looked back at the large screen mounted in front of him, along with the other screens covering the opposite wall. They were filled with her face, candid shots taken unaware. Some were from Juilliard, others from the masquerade. Her image dominated every display.
“I’m not fixated on Avery Hart,” he responded, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the desk and his jaw on his clasped hands.
“Huh? What….” the man began, but Elias cut him off.
“I am obsessed with Leitana… or should I call her Madame Duval?” He added that last part almost to himself, and his smirk deepened.
“Man, should I be worried for you? It’s Avery Hart that’s clearly on the screen. Who the hell is Leitana or Du… whatever you said?”
Elias looked away from the screen and back at him. “Someone I must have.”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I can see the appeal of this young lady, but she’s married and we don’t want to get on the bad side of Ravial Ashbourne. That guy is a ruthless shark.”
The smile wiped off Elias’s face.
“Even sharks bleed,” he said quietly, voice cold and certain.
The man shook his head again. “We both know what happened to Lang and the others was perpetrated by Ravial Ashbourne.”
Elias shrugged. “They fell into their own pit.”
The man paused, then added carefully, “Well, that’s true. I mean, they caused the death of….”
He stopped abruptly. He knew Elias did not like hearing his half-sister’s name. He despised her.
Elias smiled, slow and dark. “I do not care if you say her name. She’s gone just like I have always wanted.”
The man nodded, visibly relieved the topic was dropped.
Elias Monroe was alone in the room now.
He stared at the single picture still glowing on the main screen, a candid shot of Leitana at the masquerade, her emerald gown hugging every curve, long hair cascading down her back, eyes wide and innocent even behind the mask.
But the image that truly held him was the physical print in his hand: the one he’d had enlarged from the hidden camera footage. It showed the exact moment Jim had pinned her against the bathroom wall, tears glistening in her eyes, lips parted in shock, body pressed helplessly between him and the cold tiles.
She looked so fucking sexy.
His cock throbbed hard against the confines of his trousers.
He reached down, unzipped, and freed himself with a low groan. His hand wrapped around the thick length, stroking slowly at first as he stared at the photo.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough with lust. “So innocent. So pure. Crying those pretty tears while that bastard had you trapped… fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”
His strokes grew firmer, thumb brushing over the swollen head as pre-cum beaded at the tip.
“I want you so badly,” he growled, eyes darkening. “I want to rip that ridiculous husband of yours apart and take what should have been mine from the beginning. I want to fuck you against every wall in this city until you forget his name and only scream mine.”
His breathing grew ragged. He brought the physical copy closer, thumb tracing the image of her tear-streaked face.
“So beautiful when you’re scared… when you’re crying… when you're in my arms.”
The pleasure built fast and sharp. He stroked harder, hips jerking up into his fist.
“Fuck… Leitana…”
With a guttural groan, he came hard, Thick ropes of cum spurted across the printed photo, splattering over Leitana’s captured face and chest.
He kept stroking through it, milking every last drop until the picture was ruined, sticky, glistening, marked.
He slumped back in the chair, chest heaving, eyes still glued to the mess he’d made of her image.
“Soon,” he whispered hoarsely, a dark, satisfied smile spreading across his face. “Very soon, Madame Duval… you’ll be mine.”
He didn’t bother cleaning the photo.
He wanted to see it like that every time he sat here.
Claimed.
Defiled.
Waiting for the real thing.
The obsession had only just begun.
SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.
The brutal sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed down the stairs.
“He’s going to kill her if he keeps at it,” Claire muttered, voice tight with fear. Her heart hammered in her chest. For the past ten minutes, the entire staff had been forced to listen to Charles Hale beating his wife like she was nothing more than a punching bag.
“Should we go up there?” Maya whispered, eyes wide.
Phoebe shook her head quickly. “We already tried. We knocked, we begged. The door is locked and he refused to answer even when we threatened to call the cops.”
“But we can’t just do nothing,” Clara whispered.
Rosa stepped forward and looked up the stairs, her hands clenched at her sides. “We just hope the missus and the master return home quickly.”
Upstairs, inside the guest room given to Charles, Alyssa Hale was on the floor, curled into a ball and clutching her stomach. The man she had called her husband for decades stood over her, breathing hard, knuckles already split and bleeding
Blood trickled from her split lip and the corner of her mouth..
“I know you’re lying to me,” he snarled, voice hoarse from shouting. “TELL ME THE TRUTH!”
He pulled his leg back and slammed his foot into her stomach again. Alyssa let out a wet, gurgling sound as more blood spilled from her split lips and trickled down her chin.
Charles dropped to one knee, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked her head up. Her face was a mess of bruises, purple blooming across her cheekbones, one eye already swelling shut, blood smeared from her nose and mouth.
“Tell me the truth,” he hissed, spit flying. “I know something is wrong here. That pathetic act downstairs? Ravial suddenly wanting Avery instead of that little orphan whore? You think I’m stupid? Talk, or I swear I’ll beat the life out of you with my bare hands.”
Alyssa coughed weakly, blood bubbling at the corner of her mouth. “N-no one is lying… Charles, please… I swear…”
He laughed, a ugly, vicious sound and backhanded her across the face so hard her head snapped to the side.
“Liar!” he roared. “You think I’m stupid? Leitana and Ravial are too happy. Avery is too nervous. Something is wrong and you’re covering for them!”
He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back against the floor, straddling her waist. His fist rained down again, once, twice, three times targeting her stomach, her sides, anywhere he could reach.
“You’re protecting that little bitch Leitana, aren’t you? Or Avery? Which one of them is hiding something?” He leaned down until his face was inches from hers, breath hot and sour. “Tell me what Ravial is really planning. Tell me why they looked so fucking happy when they left. Tell me!”
Alyssa coughed up blood, voice barely audible. “No one… is lying… They’re just… trying to make it work…”
Charles roared and punched her again, this time catching her jaw. Her head lolled, vision blurring.
Fifteen more minutes of pure hell passed.
He dragged her across the floor by her hair, slamming her into the wall. He kicked her repeatedly in the ribs until she heard something crack. He slapped her so many times her face went numb. Every time she tried to speak, he hit her harder, demanding answers she didn’t have.
“Talk, you worthless whore!” he screamed, grabbing her by the throat again and squeezing until black spots danced in her vision. “I’ll kill you right here. I’ll make you watch while I burn this house down with your daughters inside if you don’t tell me the truth!”
Alyssa could only sob weakly, blood bubbling from her lips. “Please… stop… no one is lying…”
He kept hitting her, each strike landing with brutal precision. He alternated between her stomach, her ribs, her face, and her back, making sure she stayed conscious enough to feel every blow.
“You worthless bitch,” he growled between strikes. “You gave me two daughters and both of them turned out rotten. One’s a whore who ran off with trash, the other’s a weak little placeholder who somehow caught a shark like Ravial. And you you just stand there and let it happen.”
Alyssa sobbed brokenly, blood and tears mixing on her face. “They’re… your daughters… please…”
Another kick to her side. “My daughters? They’re mistakes. Just like you.”
His fist reared back for another brutal punch to her already ruined face.
The bedroom door exploded inward with a deafening crack.
Ravial stood in the doorway, tall, silent, and radiating pure ice-cold fury.
“Step away from her,” he said, voice low and deadly calm.
Charles froze, fist still raised, blood dripping from his knuckles.
The room went deathly silent.
Ravial’s blindfolded gaze seemed to pierce straight through him.