WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence, torture and blood. Please proceed with caution if you're sensitive to this kind of content.
AVA
"Are you expecting someone else?" Britney asked, looking at Ava.
"No," Ava said, shaking her head.
The two women exchanged a worried look.
Britney pursed her lips as a disturbing possibility crossed her mind.
"Do you think it's...?"
"It's not Maxim," Ava assured her, knowing exactly what Britney was about to say.
By this point, Ava had mostly managed to convince herself that Maxim wouldn't show up at her apartment today.
Mostly.
He'd promised to leave her alone until Monday, right?
"You stay here. I'll go answer the door," Ava said reassuringly.
Before Britney could protest, Ava was already making her way out of the bedroom.
The soft squeak of her sneakers following her across the living room.
Despite her certainty that Maxim wasn't on the other side of the door, Ava still hesitated when she reached it.
She took a deep breath, wrapped her fingers around the handle, and pulled the door to her apartment open.
She was met with a curious sight.
Two tall, middle-aged men stood on the other side.
There was a third man with them, older than the other two, with long gray hair. Ava had to lower her gaze slightly to look at him; he was sitting in a wheelchair.
All three men wore matching uniforms bearing the same logo, identifying them as employees of some kind of security systems company.
Ava stared at them with an increasingly confused expression.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the older man greeted her with a pleasant smile. "We're from Lovat Security Services. My name is Daniel Lovat. This is my son, Trevor Lovat, and my employee, Bob Greene."
He gestured toward each of the men in turn.
"Good afternoon," Ava replied politely. "How can I help you?"
"We've been sent here by Mr. Maxim Holloway to install a new security system for you," Daniel said cheerfully. "We are very thankful for the opportunity, by the way."
Ava froze when she heard this.
For a moment, the words seemed to hang in the air without making any sense.
A security company?
Maxim?
Her stomach dropped.
What was this psycho up to now?
"May we come in?" Bob asked when Ava suddenly went silent.
She blinked, realizing she'd been standing there in contemplative silence.
Her fingers tightened around the doorknob as she stared at the three men.
Anger began to simmer beneath her confusion.
She couldn't believe Maxim had done something like this without her permission—especially after promising to leave her alone until Monday.
But apparently, even his promises came with conditions.
The asshole.
She was definitely going to give him a piece of her mind.
---
MAXIM
The warehouse stood in an otherwise deserted industrial district, far enough from the city that no one would ever approach the place.
The room they'd chosen was soundproofed despite this, just in case.
Not that anyone was usually stupid enough to come looking.
They knew who owned the place.
Maxim stood against the concrete wall, his arms folded across his chest. He was waiting for Levi to arrive with Albert, hoping the traitor would finally enlighten them as to what his enemies were planning.
But Maxim wasn't waiting alone.
Across the room, Genevieve was arranging her tools on a stainless-steel table.
Not that they actually needed arranging.
She simply needed something to do with the restless energy coursing through her.
Her usual pencil skirt and blouse, appropriate for the office, had been replaced by a black T-shirt, jeans, and long rubber boots, with a heavy protective apron covering them.
Genevieve looked considerably more comfortable dressed like this than she ever did in the office, Maxim thought.
At that moment, the door opened.
Maxim and Genevieve both turned toward it at the same time.
Levi entered first.
Two men followed, dragging a struggling figure between them.
Albert.
His butler's uniform was still on, although it was rumpled and stained from the struggle. One side of his face was already beginning to swell, and a gag prevented him from shouting anything more than muffled protests.
The moment Maxim saw him, a surge of disgust went through him.
He couldn't believe he'd trusted the man enough to put him in charge of his home.
And he'd betrayed him.
Maxim had to remind himself not to react. He wasn't about to give the traitor the satisfaction of knowing that his betrayal had affected him.
Levi gestured toward the chair bolted to the concrete floor.
"Put him there."
The two men forced Albert into the seat and secured him with the handcuffs attached to the chair.
Having done that, Maxim waved the two men away.
Genevieve glanced at Albert over her shoulder, still fiddling with her tools.
"I see you've already started punishing my victim for today."
Her tone was mild, but Maxim knew she was very displeased with Levi underneath the veneer of casualness.
His right-hand man shrugged.
"He resisted when we came to fetch him."
Genevieve let out a disbelieving snort.
"Bullshit. I bet you'd already decided to do this to Albert before you even go to him."
Levi was silent for a moment, visibly considering whether or not to deny it.
He finally decided it wasn't worthy lying about.
"Fine. You got me."
He looked toward Albert.
"I couldn't resist giving him a minor beating for his crimes against us and the organization."
Genevieve gave him a brittle smile and for a moment Maxim wondered if there was going to be a problem. If she was going to attack him. But Genevieve put that worry to rest when she spoke.
"Finally, I relate with you for once," she told no one in particular.
"Are you two quite finished bonding?" Maxim asked, his voice mocking.
Both of them looked toward him.
"Genevieve, start working on the man and get me the information I need already."
"Don't rush me, Max," she replied quietly. "You're going to take all the fun out of this."
He looked at her seriously.
"This isn't about your pleasure. I'm looking for answers about an important matter."
"For your information, I can manage to accomplish both," Genevieve answered before turning her attention back to Albert with a smile.
The man's dark eyes widened at the complete lack of emotion in hers.
Maxim crossed his arms more tightly over his chest, watching with satisfaction as fear spread across Albert's face.
The sight pleased him very much.
He only wished he were the one causing it instead of Genevieve.
He was being a very magnanimous boss tonight, he decided, as Genevieve approached their current prisoner.
Albert immediately began shaking his head beneath the gag, terror written across his face.
Genevieve reached down and removed it.
"Please," Albert gasped immediately, before she could say a word.
She tilted her head.
"Please what?"
"I didn't betray you."
He looked desperately toward Maxim.
"This has to be some kind of misunderstanding."
Maxim's expression remained completely still.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, sir."
"So you aren't receiving payments from an unknown source to spy on me?"
"No. I would never do that. I wouldn't betray you."
"It's funny, then, because we have records suggesting otherwise."
"If that's really the case, I was obviously framed."
Maxim's eyes narrowed.
"You're going to have to do better than that, Albert. Especially since we've been told by the servants you've been snooping around my room for the past week."
Albert's mask slipped.
Clearly, he hadn't expected Maxim to know about that.
But Levi had been thorough in his investigation of the guy, not wanting them to mistakenly torture and kill the wrong guy.
Albert nervously looked back at Maxim.
"I was there to clean the room," he insisted. "The maids don't usually do a good job."
Genevieve let out a quiet laugh.
"Wow. Caught red-handed and still giving lame excuses."
She glanced toward her table.
"Oh, I can't wait to start working on you, Albert."
Albert's panicked gaze returned to Maxim.
"I swear, Mr. Holloway—"
The next moment, Genevieve silenced him with a sharp blow to the jaw.
Albert groaned, his head falling forward.
"That's what's going to happen to you everytime you try to insult our intelligence," she said, flexing the brass knuckles over her fingers.
She then looked at Maxim.
"Permission to begin?"
"Begin? From where I'm standing, it looks like you've already started," he said. "But since you want my permission, go ahead."
Maxim leaned back against the wall and watched the proceedings.
Although he wished he were the one doing the dirty work tonight, he was enjoying seeing Genevieve in her element.
She began by taking out a knife.
Albert's body immediately tensed when Genevieve began cutting through his shirt, leaving his upper body exposed.
He sobbed throughout the process, clearly expecting the knife to be used on him.
When Genevieve stepped away without hurting him, he released a shaky breath of relief.
He had no idea what was coming next.
Genevieve returned to the stainless-steel table. Beside her neatly arranged tools sat a compact electric heating unit, its heating chamber glowing faintly.
Albert watched nervously as she reached toward it and carefully withdrew the branding iron.
Its metal head glowed red.
She gripped the long insulated handle and turned toward him.
Albert's eyes widened.
He immediately began struggling against his restraints.
Genevieve approached him, holding the brand in one hand.
"Ready to receive the mark of your deceit?"
"No—no, please," Albert pleaded, struggling harder.
Genevieve ignored him.
She adjusted her aim and pressed the heated metal against his chest.
Albert's scream tore through the soundproofed room while, at the same time, the stink if his burning flesh wafted around persistently.
His entire body strained helplessly against the restraints.
When Genevieve finally pulled the brand away, she examined her work with quiet satisfaction.
The word TRAITOR had been left clearly across his chest.
Albert's screaming gradually gave way to sobbing.
"All of this can stop if you tell us what we want to know," Maxim said. "I can tell Genevieve to give you a quick death. All you have to do tell me who is paying you, and what exactly did you give them so far?"
"I told you,sir," Albert said desperately. "I'm innocent."
Maxim sighed.
Genevieve gave Albert a cruel-looking smile that did absolutely nothing to reassure him.
"That's unfortunate," Maxim said.
He looked at Genevieve and gave her a small nod.
"Proceed."
Understanding, Genevieve returned to the table and set the branding iron aside.
Then she picked up the pliers.
Albert stared at the tool in growing horror.
"Let's try this again before I take out your fingernails," Genevieve said casually as she turned back toward him. "Who are you working with?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Genevieve gave him a serene smile.
"Then I suppose we're going to be here for a while."
Over the course of the next hour, Genevieve proceeded to remove Albert's fingernails from his hands one after another, trying to force the secrets out of him.
"Come on Albert. Talk to me- you know you can tell me anything."
Albert shook his head frantically.
"I swear, I don't know anything!"
Genevieve studied him for a moment, almost impressed.
"It's amazing how much you can endure without breaking. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was torturing an innocent man," she told him. "Tell me, is this really your first time being tortured?"
Albert wearily opened his mouth to speak.
But before he could answer, Genevieve suddenly drove her knife into his thigh.
The unexpected movement made Albert let out an agonized cry, which echoed through the soundproofed room as he jerked violently against his restraints.
Maxim barely reacted.
He had become accustomed to Albert's screams over the past hour and to the business of torture in general.
But that gradually began to change as the torture session went on.
Maxim started finding it increasingly difficult to watch.
It wasn't the blood.
It wasn't Albert's screams.
Maxim had seen both before.
Done worse himself.
The problem was the image that had begun forming in his mind.
The one with Ava in this warehouse.
Standing beside him.
Watching.
Maxim could almost see the frightened expression that would cross her face.
She'd also be disgusted with everything here, including him.
She would look at him as though she couldn't understand how he could stand there so calmly while another man screamed his lungs out.
What kind of person are you,Maxim?
He could almost hear her asking it.
Maxim's jaw tightened.
Shit.
What the hell was he thinking?
Was Ava's presence in his life making him redevelop a conscience?
The thought genuinely concerned Maxim.
He didn't need a conscience.
He needed control.
He needed to remain ruthless.
And, above all, he needed to remember who he was.
Maxim inhaled slowly and forced his attention back toward the interrogation happening in front of him.
"Just give us a name, Albert," Genevieve was saying. "Who hired you?"
Albert shook his head frantically.
"I swear, I don't know anything!"
The next moment, another scream tore through the man's throat.
The sound made Maxim feel nauseous.
But he refused to look away.
Refused to leave the room.
Because this was what he did. It was who he was.
Whatever Ava was doing to his mind, he couldn't allow it to interfere with his work, he decided.
And after this, Maxim mostly kept this promise to himself.
The only thing that he finally allowed to draw his attention away from the interrogation was Levi calling his name.
It was the first time the man had spoken in nearly an hour, having remained a silent ghost in the corner throughout the proceedings.
Maxim reluctantly tore his attention away from Genevieve and looked toward him.
Levi stood in the middle of the room, staring at him with an uncertain expression.
"What is it, Levi?" Maxim asked.
"Your phone is ringing, sir."
As he spoke, Levi inclined his head toward the stainless-steel table where Genevieve's neatly arranged equipment sat. Some of the instruments were now stained with blood.
Maxim followed his gaze.
His phone lay among the tools, its screen glowing against the steel.
Maxim could hear it's faint ringtone now.
For a moment, irritation flashed across his face.
He'd forgotten to turn it off before coming here.
He was definitely more distracted by Ava than he'd realized.
Maxim silently resolved not to let that happen again.
At least not until this interrogation was over.
"Reject it," he said decisively, turning his attention back toward Albert. "I'll deal with whoever it is later."
"Of course, boss," Levi conceded quickly.
He reached for the phone, intending to reject the call for Maxim.
"Wait."
Genevieve's voice stopped him.
She walked over to Levi and glanced at the screen before turning her attention toward Maxim.
"I don't think you want Levi to do that."
Maxim glanced at her.
Genevieve nodded toward the phone.
"The caller ID says Ava Morgan."
Everything inside Maxim seemed to stop.
For one brief second, even Albert's pained groans seemed to fade into the background.
Maxim's gaze snapped toward Levi and the phone.
"Is that true?"
Levi shot Genevieve an irritated look before reluctantly answering his boss.
"Yes, but—"
Maxim didn't wait to hear the rest.
He crossed the room in purposeful strides, ignoring everyone around him.
He snatched the ringing phone from Levi's hand.
Seeing Ava's name made his pulse race with excitement.
But then Maxim remembered where he was.
What he was doing.
And his mood immediately began to sink.
He stared at her name on the screen for another second, his mind racing.
On one hand, hearing her voice would do his poor, obsessed soul some good.
On the other, she could somehow find out what he was doing.
And that couldn't be good for him in any way.
But she couldn't know that, his mind told him.
Not if he was careful.
And with that, Maxim made his decision.
But instead of immediately answering the call, he ran a hand through his hair first, smoothing it into place.
Then he cleared his throat.
Everyone in the room watched as the man who'd been calmly watching torture moments before now made a conscious effort to appear...
Normal.
As though that were the most important thing in the world.
Satisfied with himself, Maxim swiped to answer the call.
And when he finally spoke, there was a warmth in his voice that no one in the room had ever heard before.
"Hello, sweetheart."