Deadly Retaliation: A Dark Bully Harem Romance (A Twisted, Dark and Deadly Romance Book 1)

by C. P. Mandara

  “Since when do accountants have to work all night long?” She looks shocked, as well she might. I didn’t think I’d need to work all night when she first asked me that question.

  “I just do what the boss tells me to,” I say, smiling brightly. “We’ve just managed to attract a very important client, and apparently he’s in a hurry to sort out his finances.” I shrug my shoulders. Hey, that sounds so bad, I don’t even believe it.

  “You youngsters,” she says. “All you do is work, work, work.” She then rolls her eyes.

  I nod. “I know, and I keep telling my boss the same thing, but he never takes it easy on me.”

  “Poor boy,” she replies, waving me off. “See you in five minutes, Adrien.”

  Going back inside my apartment, I close the door gently and slide down it. Fuck, that was close. Ione is currently face down on the ground, and I suspect she’s going to have a bruise on her forehead this time tomorrow. Still, that’ll be the least of her worries. She’ll have a lot more than that to contend with by the time I’m finished with her. After I’ve sent a little video recording off to her brother, showing him what a lovely guy I am, he’ll be shitting his pants. Then I can demand what I really want – his wife. All I need is a week with Lois. It won’t take long to make her see sense. Then James can kiss his beautiful life, goodbye. There’s no way she’ll go back to him after I’m finished with her. No way in hell.

  Get moving, Adie. Struggling to my feet, I head towards the first aid cupboard. Yes, I have a whole cupboard devoted to my first aid needs. It contains antidotes to various venoms and poisons, bullet removal tools, suture kits, plenty of drugs, and the odd sleeping tablet. Needless to say, it’s packed to the rafters.

  One important thing that every agent should have in their first aid cupboard is powdered charcoal, and that’s what I’m looking for now. Activated charcoal isn’t absorbed by the human body, but it has an incredible ability to absorb toxins - like nasty drugs you don’t want lying around inside you for too long. It stops things from being sucked into the gut, which would then get taken into the bloodstream. It comes in handy more often than you’d think. It can help get rid of the toxins found in pesticides, mercury, opium, morphine, alcohol, and even bleach – but I wouldn’t recommend trying it. There’s a good chance of dying, while you’re at it.

  Grabbing a few tablets, I shove them down my throat and down them with a big glass of water. I then wash that down with a small dose of Epsom salts. Hopefully that’ll help slow things down a bit. It should at least give me enough time to get Ione tied up and Mrs. Yarrow’s bin emptied. Oh, the glamorous life I live.

  At least someone hasn’t poisoned my food. If that’s the case, you basically have to vomit the stuff up again, and that is never pleasant. I’m allergic to vomit. Always drink alcohol responsibly, ladies and gents. Yeah. Where’s the fun in that?

  Moving Ione to my spare room, the one with all the D-rings and bolts, involves a lot of dragging. I haven’t the strength to carry her any further. Now, she can probably add carpet burns to her list of woes in the morning. Poor baby. I can still remember the expression on her face when she thought she’d poisoned me. She looked almost gleeful – as if she’d just completed a service for womankind everywhere. I smile darkly. The tables have now turned. If anyone is killing anyone from this point forward, it’s going to be me, and I have a feeling I am going to enjoy myself.

  I don’t take any risks with my prisoner. She’s already proved herself to be a dangerous adversary, and I don’t need any more fuckups. While I could use rope to restrain her, I prefer steel. There’s less chance for error or escape. Fastening her hands behind her back in cuffs, I then use a locking carabiner around a D-ring to make sure she stays on the floor. I tackle her feet next, cuffing both ankles together before restraining them in a similar fashion. This chick is going nowhere fast. Testing every single restraint, to make sure I have double-locked and fastened them correctly, I am finally satisfied that Ione will remain where I want her to, until at least nine am tomorrow morning. Now, I’m on bin duty.

  I feel like the walking dead as I knock on Mrs. Yarrow’s door. The last thing I need is to be carrying a heavy bin down three flights of stairs, but there we have it. That’s the kind of lovely guy I am. I help old ladies across the road, kiss babies, and torture innocent women for kicks and giggles.

  “Adrien?”

  Who the hell else would it be?

  “Reporting for bin duty, Mrs. Yarrow.”

  “Oh, you’re such a lovely boy. Come in, come in,” she coos.

  Oh, if only you knew, Mrs. Yarrow. If only you knew. Still, it’s better to keep the old dear sweet. If she hears the odd scream tomorrow morning, with any luck she’ll ignore it.

  I follow her into the kitchen, and she indicates a sparkling clean Brabantia bin. She’s already taken the lid off, so all that’s left to do is grab the bag and hoist it on out of there. Before I reach the front door, though, Mrs. Yarrow stops me.

  “Was that a lady friend you brought in earlier?” Her conspiratorial wink nearly makes me choke.

  “Um, yes,” I whisper just as quietly. I really don’t need the world to hear about the victims I’ve kidnapped and tied up in my basement. Well, house. One day I’m getting a basement, though. It sounds much scarier.

  “She didn’t look very well, dear,” Mrs. Yarrow remarks.

  Bile rushes up my throat, mostly the remains of the charcoal I’ve just drunk, and let me tell you, the stuff does not taste great.

  “She’d had a bit too much to drink,” I shoot over my shoulder, still whispering. Probably best not to say she was fucking unconscious because I’d drugged her up to the eyeballs.

  “Ahh,” Mrs. Yarrow says, and then shakes her head. “Women of today,” she says, frowning. “They don’t make them like they used to.”

  I’m not exactly sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I shake my head, too. No, they make them hard as nails and twice as deadly, I think.

  “If only I was ten years younger,” I say, turning to her and giving her a massive wink. When I say ten, I mean fifty.

  “Oh, you’re too funny, you naughty boy. Off with you. Take care of your nice young lady friend, though. It’d be nice to see you happily married one day. I’ll expect an invitation of course.” She looks at me and nods her head, giving me the thumbs up. Yeah, this isn’t that kind of gig.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say. “I’ll give it my best shot.” I then hightail it out of there before she starts off on one of her favorite subjects, which is usually something about the neighborhood watch brigade, or what happened on East Enders last night.

  “Do your best, dear. You’re not a bad-looking boy. There’ll be a girl out there for you somewhere, I’m sure of it.” I nearly go cross-eyed at that remark, but thankfully I’m already down the hall and have almost reached the stairs.

  By the time I’ve got down three flights and back up them again, I feel like shit. How does shit feel, you ask? A bit like I’ve been partying all night until about five am in the morning, only to work a twelve-hour day and then go and do it all again. I’m wired, and I’m exhausted. The two are not good bedfellows.

  Thankfully, by the time I reach the top of the stairs once more, she is long gone. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that little problem. If no one notices Ione is missing, then that would be fine, but I suspect they might, her being a prominent doctor figure and all. Maybe Mrs. Yarrow will have to have an unfortunate heart attack at some point in the near future. I would feel bad about that, except I don’t. Hopefully, the next neighbor that moves in won’t spy on me regularly. If it’s a ‘she,’ and she’s hot, that would be an added bonus.

  Closing my door firmly behind me, I set it on the latch, before chugging back two pints of water. It’s bedtime. I don’t think I’ve felt this jacked since high school, and as far as torture methods go, it’s not a bad one. I suspect I’ll lie here all night deciding what I’m about to do to Warrin
gton, tomorrow. I’ve got a good twelve hours or more to decide if I want to fuck her or not, and I’m not entirely sure that I do. If there’s one quality I adore in a woman, it’s obedience, and I don’t think she’s ever heard of the word.

  Sleep is elusive until four am in the morning, but once the wall of tiredness hits, it slams into me like an eighty-mile an hour collision with a brick wall, and I’m out for the next six hours. When I do wake up, it’s not out of choice. Ione is screaming her head off. Shit. Why did I not think to gag her last night? That would be because you were off your head, Adie.

  Racing into the spare room, still in my pyjamas, I slap a hand over Ione’s mouth and glare at her. If Mrs. Yarrow comes knocking, I am going to lose the plot.

  “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to knock you out and gag you. Your choice.”

  The screaming stops instantly. “Need toilet,” she mutters grumpily through my fingers. This is slightly odd. For one, all the people I’ve kidnapped before are generally frightened out of their wits and trembling all over by the time I get to them, and secondly, if they can talk, they usually demand to be released immediately. Now I’ll grant you toilet breaks are important, but she has bigger things to worry about right now.

  “If you want to pee, you can pee on the floor. You aren’t coming out of those restraints until you’re unconscious.” I mean that, too. No way is she getting another shot to kill me. These lady doctors are feisty creatures.

  “I’ve only just woken up,” she complains, biting my finger – hard.

  “Ow.” I give her a dark look. “If I were you, I’d be on my best behavior otherwise things aren’t going to go well for you later.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. The woman rolls her eyes. What the hell is wrong with the world just lately? I find a woman who doesn’t want to sleep with me, and a civilian who isn’t wetting her pants at the thought of being kidnapped, tortured, and whatever else I decide I might want to do with her. Actually, scrap that. She might wet her pants, but not for the right reasons.

  “Generally, when you waked up shackled to the floor, it’s as good an indication as any that your day isn’t going to be a pleasant one,” she says.

  Well, at least she isn’t stupid. Score one for Ione.

  “So, how are you feeling?” I ask pleasantly. I’m not in bastard mode yet. That will come later, and technically my grudge isn’t against her, it’s against her brother.

  “Like someone drugged me with some nasty shit, dropped me from a great height onto my forehead, and then dragged me halfway across town,” she replies sulkily. That’s a fairly accurate description of what I did, so good for her.

  “Yeah, well, if you hadn’t drugged me, most of that wouldn’t have happened,” I reply.

  “I apologize whole heartedly for wanting to take out my kidnapper before he tries to do unspeakable things to me.” The sarcasm in her tone is unmistakable, and it makes me grin.

  “You gave it a good shot. Don’t feel bad. I was quite impressed.” I’m being serious. There aren’t many women who impress me, and Ione is definitely one of them.

  “I feel so much better upon hearing that.” Ione then presses her forehead to the floor and hisses. The poor thing is not having a good day.

  “Did you want an aspirin?” Hey, I’m not a complete asshole. I’m not going to start torturing her until I get her somewhere quiet, and that won’t be until it gets dark outside. I don’t see why she needs to suffer until then.

  “Fuck you.”

  Clearly, Ione is not the trusting type.

  “Suit yourself,” I say.

  “Speaking of being drugged, you look remarkably cheerful. What did you do that I didn’t?” she moans, closing her eyes. She must have one hell of a headache.

  “I detoxed.” Bar the lack of sleep, I actually don’t feel too bad this morning. Things could have been a lot worse.

  She nods and doesn’t say anything else.

  Normally, I would just walk out of the room about now and ignore my victim for the rest of the day. This is usually because they would be screaming and yelling, while asking me an insane amount of questions. That shit gets boring after a while. Ione, however, is doing none of those. It’s rather intriguing, I have to admit.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why you’re here?” The irony of this is that had she asked me, I wouldn’t have told her. Now that she hasn’t asked me, my curiosity has been piqued.

  “Are you going to tell me if I do?” Ione’s forehead is still pressed into the floor and her body is tense.

  Aha. This one is smart, just as I thought. We’re going to have some fun together.

  “I’m not sure,” I admit.

  “Well, I don’t want to waste my breath, then.” The room then goes back to silence and I let it stay that way for a while, as I take a leisurely glance at my prisoner from top to bottom.

  Ione must be about five foot nine inches and probably weighs around one hundred and thirty pounds. Her blonde hair is still tied up in the plait she placed it in yesterday, but it’s rather straggly now. Either she isn’t wearing makeup, or she hasn’t cried since she got here because there are no telltale streaks of mascara down her face. For some reason, I can’t imagine her crying. She will cry later, though, because I will make sure of it. Grabbing a wisp of blonde hair in my fingers, I yank it. I have a strange desire to see her eyes again. That vivid shade of blue damn near haunted my dreams.

  “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.” For some reason, I want to hear her voice again.

  “I’m here because of my brother,” she moans into the floor. “I assume he’s done something, and you want to get back at him.”

  “Wow. You’re not as stupid as you look.” Yes, I am impressed. I’m not sure how much James told her about his job, though, and I bet it isn’t a lot. She’s just guessing at the minute, but she’s right on the money. “Do you know what he does?” This seems like as good an opportunity as any to find out how much she knows.

  “He tells me he’s a civil servant, but I don’t believe him. I haven’t believed him in years.”

  Ione is now moving her forehead up and down the wooden floor of my spare room. I’m guessing she’s hoping it will alleviate her headache, but I don’t rate her chances of success.

  “Why don’t you believe him?”

  “Civil servants don’t disappear for months on end and they don’t have a firearms permit. They also don’t earn anywhere near as much money as he does.”

  “Did you call him out on it?” She’s right, James isn’t a civil servant. The very idea makes me want to laugh out loud.

  “What would be the point? He’d only deny it. I got my story, and it’s the same one he tells everyone else. If I started digging, we’d lose contact, and he’d never see me again. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “You’re a smart girl,” I say, stroking her head.

  “I’m a doctor. You don’t think I know that? Get your hands off me.” Those last raised words cost her, for she then closes her eyes and winces. If we’re going to have any kind of decent conversation, I probably need to sort that problem out.

  “You’re not in any position to be making demands, Ione.” My voice is soft as I continue stroking her long blonde locks. They are soft, silky and so fine they almost fly up into my fingertips. I continue this soothing motion for the next five minutes until I finally wear her down and she speaks again.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she eventually whispers.

  It’s utterly bizarre that it’s the last question she’s asked me, rather than the first, but I’ve been waiting patiently for it. For once, I figure we’ll go with the truth.

  “I’m going to string you up and strip you naked. I’m going to flay that beautifully white porcelain skin until it’s bright red and bleeding. I’m going to torment and tease you, until you almost forget that you’re being tortured, before starting all over again. I’m also going to film every last second and send it to your brother until he returns w
hat is mine.”

  I then stand up. I need a headache tablet, even if she doesn’t.

  “What has he stolen from you?” she whispers, as my naked feet pad silently across the floor.

  “Everything,” I reply simply.

  Leader

  My prison is an empty bedroom, in what I assume is an upmarket central London apartment, although it could be anywhere. Time will tell. My body shifts uncomfortably on the hardwood floor beneath me as I try to figure out what I’m dealing with here. Can I get out of this rig? Pulling at one of my arms, the unmistakable clang of metal sounds in my ears. I’m wearing cuffs. A brief tug at my ankles reveals the same thing. As my eyes glance down, I can see that they’ve been secured through solid metal bolts in the floor. I’m going nowhere. There’s nothing else here bar magnolia walls, recessed ceiling lights, and more metal bolts. This does not bode well.

  Shit. I am in so much trouble. I never intended to let myself get caught. Even when I agreed with Jake to take this number on, I always figured I’d kill the bastard and deal with the consequences later. At least the problem would be gone. If Jake didn’t speak to me for the next five years or so, I’d just have to accept that.

  Unfortunately, I’m now exactly right where I told myself I’d never be. I am at the mercy of a man, and not just any man. Oh no. I am now entangled with Adrien Dumortier, and trust me when I tell you that’s a position you never want to be in. The man is a loaded bomb that is ready to explode at any second. He’s not got a conscience, and he’ll kill me without a second thought if I step out of line.

  The only thing that’s keeping me sane is the fact that there’s a little GPS tracker in my arm that is broadcasting my current position to Jake as we speak. Hopefully, he won’t drag his heels when he realizes that I am missing. He knows what this man is capable of, even better than I do. He grew up with him.

  That doesn’t mean he’ll come running, though. He wants Adie to release a little steam before he drops by, and that’s exactly what Adrien will be doing when he starts playing with me. Oh God. I close my eyes again. All sorts of horrible thoughts are currently running through my head and they may be tame in comparison to what I may be facing shortly.