by Ella Miles
“Yes, it will. I’m broken, can’t you see? I am nothing. When you sold me to those men, you ensured my death. I should have died three years ago when you had your men take me before selling me, even after our arrangement. You didn’t give me the chance to leave Miami. You lied. You did this to me…” my voice cracks in a high pitched squeal, and I know tears are threatening. Do not cry. Not in front of this man.
I think back to when I was first kidnapped. I was exhausted after swimming to shore all night, and then the hands came around me. At first, I thought it couldn’t have been Enzo. I thought it was one of my father’s debt collectors.
After Enzo spared my life, I thought he had compassion. There was no way he would have done this. And then I overheard the men talking about Enzo, about his boss Black. When I was brought to a room full of wealthy men, plodded out on stage like cattle, and sold to the highest bidder, it was Enzo’s name who was given as the seller. He may not have been there, but it was by his order that I was sold.
Enzo must have realized I would have never stayed away from Miami and my father. But he couldn’t kill me, so he sold me.
I swallow the tears back down. “You ensured I was broken, by selling me to the worst men. It’s my turn to give an ultimatum: kill me or answer my questions, because I will not live another day in this hell without understanding why you didn’t kill me that day. Why you were tasked with killing me in the first place.”
I spit my words out, but he doesn’t flinch. Each word is like a punch to his gut. But he’s invincible; he can’t be fractured. He has a natural armor I would die to possess.
“You’re right. I sold you, not to the highest bidder, but to the cruelest man to ensure you a life of pain. One who didn’t even want you, but loved knowing he would ruin you for any other man. Now that you are broken he has no use for you, so he dumped you on the nearest shore.”
I should sob at his words. Or feel validated for confirming my suspicions. Enzo is responsible for my pain, and I have a chance to hurt him for hurting me.
“You are wrong about one thing,” he says.
“I doubt it.”
He smirks. “The men failed. I’ve seen shattered women. I’ve tortured enough men to understand when that last bit of desire to live leaves, when the whites vanish from their eyes, and they relinquish their souls to me. I know what it takes to drive a person to the edge of existence and ensure they never want to hold on. Your body may be in agonizing pain, your mind clouded with fear, but you, Kai Miller, are not broken.”
I gasp.
I’m not broken.
I’ve known it the whole time, yet I needed confirmation from someone else to believe it. My father didn’t say it. Mason couldn’t even imagine it. But Enzo said it without me even asking or pleading with my eyes. It’s what I needed to hear to survive.
“I know I’m not broken, despite what everyone keeps telling me.”
He nods slowly with a tiny twinkle in his eye.
“Now that we’ve settled that, you don’t truly want me to kill you. It’s time to play a game.”
“No, no more games. Even if I win, you’ll find some twisted way to deceive me.”
“And you never deceived me?” he asks.
“No, not during the game.”
He nods. “I never lied to you during the game either. You won the game. I answered all the questions I could.”
“All but the one that truly mattered.” Why? Why did he come to kill me? The one question he never answered and I need to be answered more than anything.
“I was a boy with little power then. Now, I’m a king.” He gestures to the grand room that looks more like a lair than a room.
“You will answer any question I ask if I win the new round?”
“Yes, if you win, I will answer any question.”
This is why I came. To get answers to my questions. To understand why, of all the millions of women in the world, the devil found me. I can’t trust Enzo, but this might be my only chance to get answers.
Why was Enzo assigned to kill me?
Why didn’t he kill me?
Why did he take me?
Why did he have his men sell me?
Why was I tortured to the edge of breaking?
Why?
“You’ll tell me why?” I ask, not including all the questions, knowing his answer would encompass all the questions.
“Yes, I’ll tell you why.”
Enzo may be evil, but he’ll tell me the truth if I win. He wants answers too. He’s itching to ask me endless questions. To tie me down, beat me, and force me to answer. I don’t know why he doesn’t go with that method. It wouldn’t work; I know how to endure the worst torture imaginable. Maybe Enzo senses that. I have nothing to hide. Losing and having to answer his questions isn’t really a loss.
“And if I lose, I’ll answer your questions,” I say.
“No.”
I wait with bated breath for him to speak his next words. His wolfish eyes and growl of his throat already giving way to what he wants. Me.
“No, if you lose, I win you,” he says.
14
Enzo
I thought Kai was a ghost.
I thought I was dreaming, imagining her standing in the doorway to my lair.
But then she spoke, and I knew Kai was real.
She’s been gone so long. I made sure she would never appear in Miami, in Surrender, in my life. Yet, here she is…
Skinny.
Beaten.
On the edge of death.
Kai shouldn’t be alive. I don’t even understand how she’s standing.
I remember how tiny she was before, but this is on a different level. The years that have passed since the last time I saw her have turned me into a hard machine of muscle. No one would ever mistake me for a boy. Kai should have filled out the curves of her body; instead, she’s thinned into almost nothing. A strong breeze could blow her over. I could snap her frail neck between my thumb and fingertips.
Her clothes hang baggy; her bones poke out beneath long sleeves and pants that I’m sure hide the unconceivable—bruises, scars, pain. Her midnight dark hair has grown in length but is uneven and frazzled. The swelling around her eye is what has me entranced the most. Black and blue coloring around her now pale skin, lightened from lack of sunlight and nourishment.
For years, I’ve done my best to forget what happened. Forget her beautiful pouty lips, her gorgeous wavy black hair, her silky skin. I tried to erase her snark and tenacity from my head. I pretended that night was all a dream. That I never put my hands on her and threatened to kill her. That I didn’t force her out of Miami and into a world of pain.
As much as I tried to forget, it was impossible. Not because she was the only girl I’ve ever wanted and couldn’t have. A girl who intrigued me and sparked a stirring inside me I didn’t know could exist. But because getting rid of Kai gained me power.
I’m no longer a prisoner to my father, but a ruthless, free man.
I decide my destiny now. And I have men who will fight to the death to ensure I get my way. And I’ve never forgotten what it cost me to gain that authority—Kai.
She was the sacrifice for my freedom. She was never supposed to return. I was never supposed to deal with the consequences of my sin. But here she is.
Kai was stupid to come back. She was free. She could have gone anywhere, and saved herself. Rebuilt her life. It would have taken time, but she had that choice. She chose to come back here, to me.
It’s clear from the look in her defiant eyes she wants to destroy me, but she wants more than that. She wants answers.
I sigh.
I understand her need for truth, to make sense of what happened to her, but it’s a stupid reason to give up her life. When the answer is simple—I sacrificed her to save myself.
But I’m not going to enlighten her. Not unless she wins.
“Sit,” I say, indicating to the chair Langston, my right-hand man, was occupying before.
Kai’s eyes cast down to the chair, but she doesn’t move. If she doesn’t sit down soon, she will collapse from exhaustion.
“Sit,” I practically shout, my voice bellowing throughout the room. I’m not used to my orders not being followed immediately and completely.
Kai doesn’t shutter at the loudness of my voice, but my command finally registers. I expect her to fight and argue with me at every step. Instead, she steps toward the chair. He legs wobble and shake, barely keeping her upright with each step. But she doesn’t seem to notice her flawed body shutting down.
She stumbles, and I reach out my arm to catch her, but she pivots at the last second, catching herself instead of tumbling into my grasp.
I sigh and move my hand to the back of my neck, rubbing hard, trying to get the frustration out on my tense muscles.
I shouldn’t want to help or even touch her, but I can’t help the pull this woman has over me.
I need a drink. Kai needs food. I don’t know when the last time she ate was.
Fuck.
How could I let this happen? I’m a cruel, sadistic bastard, but I never meant for this betrayal to take over her life. I hate how hollowed-cheeked she is. I hate how much pain she’s in. But most of all, I hate that any man ever touched her.
She’s mine.
Then why’d you let her go?
Because I didn’t have a choice.
I leave Kai in the room as I walk to the kitchen to get some food. I should be worried about what Kai will do in the minutes I’m gone. What secrets she will find in my private room. I’m more concerned that her weak heartbeat will stop or her lungs will give out and she’ll be dead before I return.
I don’t know what food is nourishing for a person who has been to hell and emerged on the other side. So I just throw the first things I find onto a plate: strawberries, old pizza, crackers, and olives.
I jog back to the room, my feet silent as I move.
When I enter my lair again, Kai is still sitting in the chair, her fingers brushing against the hem of her shirt.
She startles when I enter.
I should apologize. I should make her feel better, but I don’t. I want her to eat, but I also want her on edge. I want to win our game of truth or lies. I want to take her and secure her as mine.
I don’t know why I suggested the game, when I could just as easily take her by force. She’s too weak to fight. I could toss her over my shoulder and take her to my home. Lock her away forever.
But it doesn’t seem fair. I like giving her a fighting chance, even if the result is the same in the end.
I set the plate of food on the end table next to Kai and then pour us each a glass of water. I’d offer her alcohol, but I’m afraid it would burn what little lining is left in her stomach after years of eating itself in order to survive.
“Eat.”
She stares at the food, like it’s a pile of worms and bugs I’m asking her to eat.
“Kai, eat,” my voice warns.
Her eyes flutter up to me as her breathing slows. “I didn’t come here to eat; I came to get answers. Are we playing the game or not?”
I sigh. She’s the most frustrating woman. “When we play, and I win, you will eat. You will do everything I say, because I own you.”
She releases a breath. “You forget that I won last time. And now I’m more determined than ever to win again.”
“You may have won before, but by the end of tonight, you will be mine.”
“I will belong to no one, but myself,” she snarks.
I grin. “There is the fighting girl I remember.”
She huffs. “She’s gone. Kai Miller drowned in the ocean.”
“So you’re Katherine now, then?” I ask, remembering the name she said her parents called her before she declared her name was Kai.
“No, I’m nobody. I don’t even exist.”
We breathe in unison, both needing air, but I’m not sure the room has enough for both of us. And what’s left of the air is pushing us together. We both try to resist, but somehow I’m leaning toward her, reaching my hand up to brush a strand of hair that has fallen into her face.
Kai brushes it away glaring at me before I can touch her. She hates me, of course, she doesn’t want me to touch her.
“The rules?” she asks.
“Same as before. We each get one guess to identify the truth from the lies correctly.”
She nods. “I win; I get my answers.”
“I win; I get you.” I expect her to ask questions. How long would I take her if she were to lose? What would she be expected to do if I take her?
She doesn’t ask. Being taken no longer scares or concerns her. She’s lost her life before, because of me. This is no different to her.
And I need to win for so many reasons. There is the attraction, the pull that begs me to take her, make her mine, fuck her and show her pleasure she’s never experienced before, while ruining her more than she already is. But I need to take her for more than just my own sexual desires. The power and life I’ve gained require her to stay hidden. I can only do that one of two ways. The same two choices I had before: kill her or take her.
“You can start.”
I sit back in my chair, sipping on my water like it’s scotch. I should have poured myself a drink, but I want to be acutely aware of her. Ready to tell when she’s lying or telling the truth before she even speaks. Last time we played, I was naive. I thought I had experience, and that she didn’t. Time has changed us both. Me into brawn, her into vengeance. We both have the skills needed to win the game, but hopefully, her brain is too clouded to think clearly.
Kai clears her throat as her head drops to her hands. She’s covering her face as she thinks about the lies and truths she will reveal, hoping that by hiding her face, I’ll be less attuned to her.
My lips curl—as if not feeling her was possible. I feel her more than I see her. Her icy breath pierces my burning heart with each exhale. And my blood pumps slower through my veins matching her slow, irregular beat. Even thousands of miles apart, I would occasionally feel a chill down my back or a sharpness in my side and think of her. We are connected, and right now I feel her pain, along with her determination.
Slowly, Kai reveals her face to me again; she reaches for the water takes a sip and then stares straight at me.
“I hate my father.
“I hate the ocean.
“I hate you.”
I smile loving the theme she chose this time. The last time we played she chose lust, temptation. She tricked me by making me believe she was more innocent than she was. This time, she’s chosen her strongest emotion—hate. It’s easiest for her to fuel into every sentence equally, making me believe every word out of her mouth.
She wants to play with the strongest emotions to win. Then I will too.
“I love my family.
“I love the ocean.
“I love money.”
“I didn’t think you were capable of love,” she snarls.
I shrug. “Everyone is capable of loving something.”
Her face darkens. She doesn’t think she’s capable of loving, not anymore.
I stare down on the deep purple colored bruise on the inside of her wrist, exposed as the sleeve pushes up her arm. Then to her bare feet where several of her toes bend the wrong way.
I doubt anyone who has been through what she’s been through is capable of loving anything anymore.
“Which is my truth?” Kai asks, impatiently.
“So eager to lose.”
“I want my answers.”
“Which do you hate the most, Kai?” I pick up my glass and swirl the water around as I contemplate my choices.
“The easiest and most obvious choice would be that you hate me. I tried to kill you. I left you in the ocean. I told you if you survived, to leave Miami. And then I caused torment worse than death.”
I pause, waiting for her to argue or yell at me for any of those points. She doesn’t.
“But the most obvious choice doesn’t mean it’s your truth. Although, I have a hard time thinking you could hate anyone as much as you hate me.” But maybe she uses a different word in her head for what she thinks of me. After all, hate and love are two sides of the same emotion. And if she hates me, then it means she has the capacity to love me. She could never love me; therefore she could never hate me.
“Your father would also be easy to hate. He was supposed to protect you. Or at the very least rescue you. He didn’t.” But she’s too much of a daddy’s girl to truly hate him. Not for his incompetencies, even though she should.
“The ocean is worthy of your hate too. I left you in it to drown. Who knows what hardships you experienced on the sea?”
Her eyes dilate a millimeter.
“Have you made your choice?” she asks.
“Yes, have you?”
“I still don’t think you are capable of love. But between loving your family, the ocean, or money the choice is easy.”
I smirk. Bingo, I have her.
And I know her truth.
“You go first,” she says.
“You don’t hate your father. And as much pain as I’ve caused you, you don’t hate me. You hate the sea.” It’s plain as day. She hates the sea. Sea equals Kai. She hates herself. She hates what she’s become. She hates being broken and weak. She could never hate her father, and she sees me as nothing but a soldier following orders. Who ultimately kept her alive, even though she was tortured because of it. She hates the sea.
“And you love the ocean,” Kai says.
Neither of us blinks. Or breathes. Or moves. Neither reveals who the winner is. The thread of connection between us looms revealing our winner. One of us chose correctly, and the other wrongly.
“The ocean represents freedom for me,” I say.
Her eyes widen, realizing her mistake. “But you don’t long to be free anymore; you are free,” she whispers.
I nod.
“And you don’t love money,” she says.
I nod.
“You love your family.”
I nod. “I love my family. Those men, Langston and Zeke, are my family. Maybe not my blood, but they are my family in every other sense of the word.”
