Darius's POV
The blade pressing against my belly triggers a deep furrow in my brow. Allison, trembling but resolute, is holding a knife to me, actually threatening me. I'm surprised, I won't deny it, but I always knew she had this fire inside her.
I take a slow step back, a proud smile tugging at my lips, deepening when I spot a shiny gold dress discarded on the floor, already torn from wrapping one of my knives. For once, I'm glad she didn't shove the bare blade into her jeans; she would've sliced herself open.
"Are you mad? Put that down, girl!" Rob snaps at her, his voice laced with genuine terror. He knows what happens next.
"Stay away from me! All of you! Especially you, Hunter...!"
"That's my knife. You don't even know how to use it. You're holding it wrong..." The second she glances down to check the blade, that brief flicker of hesitation is all I need. In a flash, I seize her wrist, twisting the knife out of her grip.
I'm furious. For some reason, every shred of humor has drained from me. Maybe it's because she reminded me of my roots by calling me by my last name. I am a Hunter, and she needs to learn what that means.
I grab her left arm and drag her into the center of the room, shoving her down onto the cold floor. "Strip. Now."
She must sense the gravity in my voice because she doesn't hesitate. Nervously, she pulls her shirt over her head. She's wearing a sports bra—practical, but pointless. We're going all the way tonight. Even when she gives me those pleading, puppy-dog eyes, I simply tilt my head, urging her to continue.
Her breathing catches my attention, something off about it, reminding me she's slightly asthmatic.
"Take off the pants... Or do you need my help?"
"No!" she snaps, her voice tinged with raw hatred.
"You brought this on yourself, girl," Carlos, one of my guests concludes, blowing smoke into the air with a smug and a golden smirk. My friends are all eagerly watching, savoring the anticipation of Allison's punishment.
This is where my selfish streak kicks in. She's mine—her punishment should be for my eyes alone. But if I remove the others from the scene too early, I lose the chance to truly terrify her. Too late, and I risk losing my grip on control, on my sanity.
Allison stands, fumbling with the button of her jeans, her hands trembling. After what feels like an eternity, she finally peels off her pants, revealing... boxers? Male boxers. Disgusting gray ones at that. Can someone remind me why I employed Rebecca and Thessa again? Especially Thessa—didn't I hire her to dress the girls? Didn't I specifically instruct her to see to Allison's outfit? Or did she think my orders weren't worth following?
The men in the room recoil, their faces twisting in disgust at the sight of her boxers.
"Oh, Darius, what is she wearing now?!" Pete exclaims, horrified, his brother Reuben echoing his disbelief.
Rob, Carlos, Pete, Reuben, and Lucas—every one of them is repulsed by the sight of Allison's underwear. Except me. I find it oddly amusing, grateful for the expressions of horror on their faces. Allison, though, is too lost in her own misery to realize the mess she's made.
"She has to take the rest off! I didn't come here to see this!" Rob sputters, his voice thick with disappointment.
"Get out," I order, my tone icy. He dared to raise his voice at me. How interesting.
The others exchange uneasy glances and nod, though Rob looks confused, defeated, as if he wants to argue.
"Forgive me, Darius. I didn't mean to—"
"Get out before I make you stay."
He scurries out, tail between his legs, knowing exactly what I mean by "make you stay."
"Anyone else want to challenge me? Think I'm moving too slowly with this punishment?" I ask, a wide, sarcastic smile playing on my lips.
Every man shakes his head anxiously, not wanting to push their luck. Meanwhile, I struggle to keep a stern glare, trying not to laugh at Allison's futile attempts to disappear into herself.
I'm tempted to command her to strip the rest of her clothes off, but that would end the game too quickly. Instead, I watch her shiver, savoring the tension as my friends watch me, all trying to guess what I'll do next.
"Hector. Let's talk about Hector. He mentioned three of you were in business with him. I'd like to know who..." Unpredictability is my superpower, my ace. I bend every situation to my will, doing whatever the hell I please.
Rob was innocent; that's why I let him go. It's all part of my style—I knew he wouldn't have the patience for my little performance with Allison. This is all part of the plan: exposing the traitors. And Allison? She gets a front-row seat to the madness.
"Carlos? Leave." The youngest of the group bolts for the door without question. He senses the storm brewing and is probably thanking his stars that I'm letting him go. He's innocent, after all.
"Pete. Reuben. Lucas." The traitors. Selling my products behind my back at a lower price, pushing Hector to betray me.
I haven't killed Hector, by the way. Tortured? Yes—that's how I got their names.
They're all shifting uneasily now, especially Lucas. He's been my friend since childhood, but he orchestrated the whole plan. He's always wanted a piece of me, for as long as I can remember. It's sad, really. Not in a heart-wrenching way, but sad that it's taken me this long to bring him down.
"Which of you orchestrated this?" I ask, feigning ignorance, ready to watch the drama unfold.
Before I can blink, Lucas points to Pete and Reuben, the twin brothers, making their jaws drop in unison.
"Liar!" they both bark at Lucas, who now adjusts his glasses and looks at me with pitiful eyes.
"You're my friend. You know I'd stand... against you..." he stammers, his pathetic attempt at acting grating on my nerves. He's ruining the drama I'd anticipated.
"Right. So it's the twins—they forced you to betray me. They made you threaten Hector's family and pushed him to the front, making him take the heat. Why didn't you say no? Did they threaten you too? Why didn't you come to me...?"
He opens his mouth to answer, but Reuben's outburst cuts him off. The twin leaps from their seat and squares up to Lucas, grabbing the jittery man by the collar.
"You told us Darius would be proud!" Reuben shouts in Lucas's face, spittle flying. It's a disgusting sight, but I'm captivated. Just when I think I've seen the climax, Pete, the other twin, lands a solid punch on Lucas's jaw.
"El coño...!" The words follow the cracking sound, making me wince in surprise—yet also in pleasure. They're making my job easier.
"We'll pay you double what we sold, plus any interest you decide. It's our way of apologizing. We really thought we were doing you a favor. And we definitely weren't in on threatening Hector. It's a shame he had to die," Reuben pleads, his voice shaky.
Meanwhile, Lucas sits there, bloodied and bewildered, his gaze fixed on the floor. I can practically hear his thoughts: 'How do I get out of this?' The truth is, he can't. Not even the thought of Dora could sway me. I might not kill him, but I'll make him wish I had.
"Get the contracts ready, bring your lawyers, and then we'll talk. Now get out before I change my mind." The brothers bow hastily and rush out, leaving me alone with Lucas and, of course, Allison.
She's shivering uncontrollably now, teeth chattering, arms wrapped tightly around her frail body. In this cold red room, without her clothes, she's on the brink of catching pneumonia—or worse. Without thinking, I strip off my coat and toss it over her. She flinches, startled, unsure of what I'm doing.
"Cover up with it," I command. But she doesn't obey, casting a questioning glance at Lucas.
"Are you going to... kill him?" Her voice is barely a whisper, cracking from the cold.
I arch a brow, curious why she'd worry about Lucas instead of herself. "Put on the damn coat, Allison," I repeat, my voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in. Why is she so damn stubborn!?
"I'd rather wear my own clothes. I don't... want... your... Ooooph..." She can barely get the words out, her body shaking violently.
A sickening thought worms its way into my mind: hugging her, shielding her from the cold, giving her warmth. The idea disgusts me, but I can't afford to show weakness—especially not in front of Lucas. So, I turn my attention back to him, the true perpetrator.
"Choose. Punishment by me or my broth—"
"Your brother! Please... Let me be punished by him. I deserve whatever you want, but... Have mercy and send me to your brother."
Good choice. I don't have the time to deal with him anyway. I need to focus on this stubborn girl before she freezes into a statue.
I pull out my phone immediately and dial my brother's number. "Zain! You've got Lucas. Come to the red room and get him the fuck out of my sight! I've got other..." I cast my eyes to Allison and roll my eyes. "Things to deal with."