A Thousand Cuts (Underworld Kings)

I wanted him to continue talking to me. Opening up to me.

“I like to hurt people,” he declared running his hands up and down my thighs. “I’ve found out recently, I enjoy hurting those I love. The only woman I love. Because I want to punish you for loving me.”

He brushed his thumb against my bottom lip.

“I’ve shown you nothing but my worst qualities yet you care for me,” he muttered. “I’m terrified to love you, to show you how much you mean to me, because that might mean I’ll find you naked, bloody and dead on a marble floor.”

My heart thundered against my ribcage as Cristian kept one hand on my neck and used the other to free his cock from his pants.

I gasped as he pressed himself against my entrance, rubbing himself against me but not going inside.

“I will not be a caring husband,” he said, pressing against me, his face painted with desire. “I do not have the ability for kindness. I wasn’t given it when I was a child, and as soon as Isabella died, I turned into a creature incapable of giving or receiving it. But I will give you everything I can. I will give you all that remains of me. I will give your darkness a home.” He slowly pushed into me, sending pleasure shooting to my fingertips. “Because, Sienna,” he whispered. “I have never had a home until I found my way into your cunt.”

I let out a rough gasp as he fully seated himself inside me. As his cock and his words filled me up.

“You have to tell me everything,” I ground out. “I do not want to live on the sidelines of your life because you are trying to protect me.”

Cristian still hadn’t moved. He was stationary inside of me, as if he needed to finish this conversation inside of my pussy.

“It is impossible for you to live on the sidelines,” Cristian responded, voice tight. “Even if I wanted that for you. I will submerge you into this life. Where most people would drown, you will fucking thrive.”

And then, he moved, fucking me on the vanity until we both exploded into a thousand tiny pieces.

That was it.

The end.

The end of any kind of life that wouldn’t include Cristian.

One Month Later

Detective Greg Harris

He should’ve known better than to pin his hopes on the woman.

She’d seemed strong. Determined. Ruthless.

But she’d fallen for it. Whatever charms Romano had offered. The life of a criminal had become intoxicating to her. He’d known she’d settled into her role when she’d threatened his life with such conviction.

And he was fucking outraged.

He was done with this bullshit. Done with this family getting away with everything. And he wasn’t going to go to the grave without serving justice.

He was going to the grave earlier than expected. His doctor had told him two days ago. Prostate cancer. And it had spread. He had months at the most. He was advised to get his affairs in order.

That meant he should’ve quit the force, tried to repair things with his daughters. But instead, he decided on what he was going to do regarding the Catalanos.

Now he was sharing it with Lucia.

He knew that she wouldn’t approve. But he also knew she wouldn’t go against him.

“You know that by doing this you’re signing Sienna’s death warrant,” she replied evenly.

Harris gave her a curt nod. He knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe years ago, that might’ve bothered him. It might’ve sickened him that the thought had even crossed his mind, to let a woman die in order to catch a criminal.

Protect and serve.

That’s what he’d joined to do.

But that was a joke. A fucking farce. The force served those criminals they’d sworn to protect the public from. There was no protection here. Harris had to abandon all of his morals in order to catch the Catalano family. To kill a monster you had to become one.

So the woman would die.

Whether she deserved to or not.

Sienna

“Sienna, you have a visitor.”

I sighed into the receiver, pissed off at my assistant, even though it wasn’t his fault that I was getting a visitor at almost five PM on the day before my wedding.

Cristian hadn’t wanted me to work. He’d wanted me home. Preparing.

Doing what, I didn’t know. Bathing in virgin’s blood so I looked young and fresh for the wedding day? Arranging flowers? No. I’d said as much to Cristian.

We’d argued.

I’d won.

Cristian warned me he was going to mark every inch of my body in punishment.

Hence me being pissed that someone was delaying that punishment. That pleasure.

But work was still important to me, regardless of the fact I was going to become the most powerful woman in the underworld. I needed a connection to this world. My own power, separate from Cristian. I couldn’t lose myself in this, even though I’d made my decision.