The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

“Shit,” I mutter, glancing around frantically.

I don’t see anyone else out here, but the hairs on the back of my neck are alerting me to impending danger, and I can’t trust my vision. It’s too dark to see much of anything other than the one familiar outbuilding up ahead.

Unwilling to risk being caught, I run toward it as quietly as I can manage, slipping into the darkness of the open space inside before I feel my way blindly to the locked door. The door that Judge made a point to block off.

I couldn’t understand why at the time, and I’m surprised to find that when I jiggle the lock now, the jagged edges of the metal come apart, and it falls onto the floor.

It’s been cut, I think. But why?

I freeze again when I hear something else. Then it goes silent, and I wonder if my mind is playing tricks on me. My fingers curl around the door handle, and uncertainty makes me pause. This could either be the worst place to hide or the best. The sound of another twig snapping makes the decision for me, and I tug the door open and slip inside.

It’s pitch black and admittedly terrifying. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s in here. But I can smell the musty odor of dust and something else. Rust, maybe. Old metal and leather too.

It’s an odd combination, and curiosity has me feeling my way around the room. I bump into a table, fingers moving over the splintered edges and then over the metal instruments on top. At first, I think maybe it was a gardening shed. These feel about the right size for garden tools. That is until my hand freezes on the unmistakable shape of a cane. I’d recognize that shape anywhere.

I’m trying to make sense of it when the door creaks open quietly, and I suck in a sharp breath, silently cursing my luck. I know it can’t be Judge because he’s not even home yet. But there’s a good chance it’s Paolo or possibly even Raul.

I stand completely still, hoping whoever it is can’t hear me breathing. For a moment, I’m even convinced I pulled it off. Then a light flicks on overhead, blinding me.

I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust to the light, and my gaze locks on a familiar face.

“Oh, my God, Theron,” I murmur in relief. “You scared me.”

“Did I?” There’s a strange undercurrent of tension in his voice, and the amusement I’d expect to see is absent from his features.

“What are you doing here?” I glance over his shoulder, wondering how he even knew I was out there.

“You know, I’ve been asking myself that very same question since I returned.” He slowly shuts the door behind him and seals us into the room together. “I thought I had a way back in with you, but Judge ruined that for me. The same way he ruins everything.”

There’s a darkness in his eyes that makes my skin break out in a sweat, and for the first time since I’ve met him, I’m wondering if I can trust him. He seems different tonight. More amped up. His pupils are huge. Something’s not right, and I don’t like it.

“I’m sorry about Judge.” I attempt to pacify him. “If he took it out on you-”

“Don’t be sorry.” Theron smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You can still help me. It just has to be a different way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” He sighs. “Truth be told, I would have gladly taken you for a wife. That could have solved both our problems. But Judge has never been one to let me have nice things. After all of his posturing, I suspect he’s found a way to ruin that for me too.”

“What are you talking about?” I try to back up a little, but I bump into the table.

“He fucked you, didn’t he?” Theron spits the words out.

When my face blanches, it’s obvious I don’t have to answer. I already gave it away.

“I thought so.” His eyes drift to the wall beside him, where there is a selection of leather whips and chains I didn’t notice before.

My stomach lurches as he drags a finger over the length of one of the whips.

“No offense, Mercedes.” He stares at the collection absently. “You’re a very beautiful woman, but I’d never be able to enjoy my brother’s leftovers as a wife. So now he’s forced my hand, and I realize I’ll have to use you differently.”

“Theron, please,” I choke on the words as I eye the door behind him. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Judge, but it has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He looks at me, eyes shifting over me rapidly. “It has everything to do with you. It occurred to me during his display of barking and growling that he cares about you. And I have to say, it surprised me because Judge hasn’t ever cared about anyone but himself.”

“He doesn’t,” I protest. “I promise you he doesn’t. He’s proven that over and over again.”

Theron simply shakes his head as if my argument is too weak to consider. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for an opportunity like this. I never even thought it was possible, truly. But here you are. The one weakness Judge can’t deny. What better way to destroy him than to aim where it will hurt the most.”

“Theron, please…” My words die off as he pulls the whip from the wall and turns his attention to me.

Fear streaks through me as I shake my head violently, recalling the pain. The open flesh, the scars. I can’t go through that again. I won’t survive it. I’d rather die than feel that level of agony again.

“It could always be worse,” he tells me. “You think I’m the monster, but you don’t have any idea what he’s truly capable of.” Theron steps forward then, cracking the whip against his hand before he raises it into the air and lasers in on me. “I’m only sorry that it has to be you.”

Instinct has me reaching for a weapon from the table. I don’t even know what it is until I raise my arm and catch a glimpse of the long wooden paddle. It’s heavy and awkward, and it brings back the memory of that fucking lamp. The lamp I smashed over the courtesan’s head.

She died. And I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to kill Theron, but I know I’m past the point of pleading with him. Something in him has snapped. His darkness has taken over, darkness I didn’t even know lived in him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” My lip trembles as I try to skirt around him, moving toward the wall. “Don’t make me.”© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

He snorts as if the thought is so amusing. As if I ever could.

“Look, if you want to get back at Judge, I can help you,” I lie. “We can figure something-”

Crack.

The whip lashes out at me so fast I don’t even have time to react before it cuts into my wrist and the heavy paddle clatters to the floor.

A silent scream heaves from my lips as I try to run, but Theron captures me by the hair and yanks me back against him. I thrash and fight, trying to twist in his arms and get away, but he’s not having it. He’s not going to let me go, and he’s so strong, I know I can’t hurt him. That’s why he laughed at the very idea of it.

Hope is a dying ember, but I can’t give up. I throw my head back into his chin, and he grunts before wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing.

“Behave,” he growls. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

I claw at his hands, trying to drag air into my lungs as my vision darkens and real fear soaks into my veins, slowing everything. Gradually, I become too weak to fight. My slaps are sluggish, my body boneless, and I know when I start to collapse, I’m screwed.

Theron releases his hold on my throat, and I gasp for air, but my muscles have stopped cooperating. I fall into a useless heap on the floor, my need for oxygen greater than anything else. I can’t even fight him as he drags me over to a leather bench and starts to rip at my clothes.

A solitary tear slides down my cheek as I shake my head violently, but as I do, the room spins, and I nearly pass out again.

“You don’t have to do this,” I croak.

Theron discards my shirt, and then moves onto my pants, dragging them down over my hips along with my thong, leaving me completely bare. His knuckle caresses the length of my back as I try to get up again, and then he slams me back down with the weight of his palm. It knocks the wind out of me, and again, blackness threatens the edges of my vision.

“I know I don’t have to, Mercedes.” He leans down his voice dark silk against my ear. “But I want to. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”