Chapter 142 - ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO

Chapter 142: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO

DAMIEN

"Terms?" I chuckled so hard I nearly choked on my coffee, the dark liquid sloshing over the lip of my ceramic mug. "There are no terms, old friend. Look at the board. I have your queen. And you’re out there somewhere, bleeding out, licking your wounds, jerking off to memories of a girl who’s currently sleeping in my bed with my cum dried on her pretty face."

"Damien—"

"Here’s the situation, Vincenzo. I hold all the cards. Every single fucking one. Your precious Angel is mine now—taking my cock, swallowing my cum, begging for my approval, loving every second of her degradation. And there’s not a thing you can do about it."

"Tell me what you want."

"What I want?" I pretended to consider the question, leaning back in my leather chair. "Right now, what I want is to punish my naughty little kitten for playing tricks with phones."

"If you touch her—"

"I’m going to do a lot more than touch her," I smirked. Dragging out Vincenzo’s torture. Sparing him no detail. . "I’m going to break her open until she forgets your fucking name. I’m going to remind her who owns every breath in her lungs. And then—" I paused for effect, grinning widely into the empty room. "Then I might send you a video. Something for you to jerk off to while you’re lying awake at night, imagining all the filthy ways I’m defiling your baby girl."

I could feel the heat of his rage radiating through the line, vibrating through the speaker.

"Let me make you an offer," I continued, enjoying this more than I should. "Since we’re such old friends. We could share her. Take turns. See whose cock she really craves when she’s got both options available. I’m betting it’s mine, but hey—you never know until you put her on her knees between us."

"You’re fucking insane!"

"Probably. Definitely. But I’m also the one with the girl," I drained my mug and slammed it on the table so hard the wood groaned. "Tell you what, Vincenzo, since I’m feeling a bit generous. Let’s play a game. You and me, hunting each other like the old days. Cat and mouse across the globe. See who catches who first."

"And Angel?"

"Angel stays right where she is. Under me. And every time you fuck up—she pays the price. Every wrong move you make, I take out on her sweet little ass." I let that sink in, listening to his ragged breathing. "Sound fair?"

"I’m going to rip your heart out through your chest."

"Sounds kinky. I’ll let Angel know you’re thinking of her." I stood, stretching my broad shoulders. "Speaking of which—my girl needs me. All that crying and fucking really tired her out. I should go check on her. Make sure she’s comfortable. Maybe wake her up with my cock down her throat. She loves that."

"Damien, I swear to God—"

"Save the threats, Vincenzo. You lost."

I ended the call before he could respond and stared at the laptop on my desk, watching the trace software blink red.

Failed.

The trace had failed. Turned out he was smart, too. But it didn’t matter. I’d find him eventually. Hunt him down and make him watch while I took everything he loved, breaking his spirit before I blew his brains out.

In the meantime, Angel needed to learn what happened to little girls who went behind their Daddy’s back.

I returned to my bedroom, easing the door open.

She was still sleeping—curled on her side, golden hair spilling across the black silk pillow like liquid sunshine, wearing nothing but my marks and my dried cum. The sheets had slipped down to her waist, exposing the curve of her spine, the delicate wings of her shoulder blades, the dark purple bruises blooming across her pale skin like flowers I’d planted with my own hands.

I stood in the doorway for a long moment, just looking, drinking her in like a starved man.

Fuck, she was beautiful. No doubt the most perfect, ruined little thing I’d ever owned.

My cock stirred in my pants, already rock-hard from the memory of last night. Her fighting at first, all fire and venom, spitting curses at me like they’d do any good. Then slowly breaking down. Sobbing. Apologizing. Kissing my cock with those soft, trembling lips while tears rolled down her face and she whispered desperate apologies, begging me not to give her away.

Then coming so hard she’d soaked the sheets, screaming my name while choking on my dick.

I moved closer to the bed, my eyes roaming over her sleeping form with proprietary satisfaction. Something nagged at me, though. Something I’d noticed earlier when I was pinning her down, but I’d been too distracted by her tight pussy to check out properly. I’d been too busy fucking her brains out to think straight.

Her tits.

I stared at them, cocking my head to the side. They were definitely bigger. Fuller than I remembered when I first brought her here. Heavy and soft when I’d squeezed them earlier, spilling out of my hands in a way they hadn’t before. Like ripe, heavy fruit begging to be devoured. Her nipples had been so fucking sensitive too—she’d whimpered and leaked when I pinched them, back arching off the bed like she couldn’t help herself.

I’d assumed it was just high arousal from my punishment. But now, looking at her in the cold morning light, I wasn’t so sure.

I reached out and peeled the sheet back, slow and careful. Exposing her naked, bruised body inch by inch like unwrapping a prize.

My eyes traveled down her form. Her narrow waist. A subtle, soft roundness to her lower belly that definitely hadn’t been there when I first dragged her out of that house.

No.

Something cold slithered down my spine, trickling into my blood like pure venom.

Hell, fucking no.

I reached out and cupped her breast, feeling the new weight of it fill my palm. Heavy. Full. Hot. She whimpered in her sleep, trying to turn away, but I didn’t let her. Just squeezed hard, digging my fingers into the soft flesh. Tested. Then my hand moved lower. Over her ribs. Down to her lower stomach.