Chapter 2Scarlet Tears at Eighteen

An orphan. No parents. No family.

Peter supposedly picked her up while she was working as a bottle girl at a local dive bar.

She was as clean as a blank sheet of paper. And she was as fake as one, too.

My lieutenant asked if I wanted him to make her disappear.

I didn't answer right away. I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and slowly exhaled the smoke.

"No rush. If you want to know what the enemy is plotting, you have to let the prey strike first. Then, you kill them with one blow."

To her, my silence was proof of weakness and surrender.

She didn't disappoint me. A few days later, she ambushed me right in the lobby of my corporate headquarters.

In front of dozens of my employees, she placed a protective hand over her flat stomach. Her eyes were bright red as she bowed deeply to me.

"Miss Norton, I'm begging you, please let me go! I'm pregnant with Peter's child. I just want to live a quiet life and have my baby."

"Please, I'm begging you! The baby is innocent! Don't hurt him! This is Peter's only bloodline!"

The lobby immediately erupted into shocked, furious whispers.

My fingernails dug violently into my palms, but I didn't lose my temper in public.

Instead, I leaned down and gently patted her on the shoulder.

"Chloe. If you want to play a game, I will play with you until the bitter end. Just don't regret it."

That exact night, I had her dragged to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

She was thrown onto the concrete floor. Tears streamed down her face like a broken necklace.

"Miss Norton, I'm sorry! I was wrong! I'll never do it again, please let me go!"

I squatted down in front of her, casually flipping open a tactical folding knife.

The sharp, metallic click echoed in the massive room. The cold steel caught the dim light, reflecting onto her terrified face.

"Your mistake wasn't messing with me. Your mistake was taking something that didn't belong to you and parading it around like a trophy."

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had.

Her head whipped to the side. She was completely stunned, clutching her cheek as she stared at me in absolute disbelief.

"That was for the rules. Don't touch my man."

My hand came down a second time. Blood instantly welled up in the corner of her mouth.

"That was for basic human decency. Never mistake someone's tolerance as permission to act like a bitch."

I didn't stop. Again. And again.

The sharp cracks of my palm hitting her face echoed rhythmically. I counted every single one.

At first, she tried to act tough and begged for mercy. Then, she started screaming Peter's name at the top of her lungs.

By the end, she couldn't even make a sound.

Blood dripped heavily from her chin onto the concrete.

When I hit one hundred, I finally stopped.

I grabbed the collar of her shirt, wiped the blood off my knuckles, and stood up, looking down at the broken mess on the floor.

"Those hundred slaps were to jog your memory. If you cross me again, I won't be taking your face. I'll be taking your life."

It was just beginning to get light out when I finally pulled up to the estate.

The moment I pushed the heavy oak doors open, the suffocating stench of stale cigarette smoke hit my face.

Peter was sitting on the sofa in the dark. Dozens of crushed cigarette butts were scattered around his boots.

Before I could even open my mouth, he stood up and closed the distance between us in three massive strides.

He violently grabbed my jaw, his fingers digging into my cheeks, his teeth gritted in pure, homicidal rage.

"Aria. You actually dared to touch her."

I looked up, staring dead into his eyes. My jaw was throbbing in agony, but I smiled.

"I touched her. So what? If she has the guts to get in my face, she better have the guts to take a beating."

He raised his hand and struck me across the face with terrifying force.

My head snapped to the side. The skin of my lip split open, and the heavy, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

I slowly turned my head back, looking him right in the eye.

I didn't flinch. I didn't show a single ounce of weakness.

"You brought this on yourself, Aria."

"She took a hundred hits. You're going to take two hundred."

"Try me."

I opened my mouth to shout for my guards outside.

But Peter was faster.

He kept his brutal grip on my jaw and violently twisted his wrist. My jaw loudly dislocated, instantly locking into a sickening, crooked angle.

Immediately, the lieutenant he had brought with him rushed forward, expertly pinning both of my arms behind my back.

The second slap landed. The entire right side of my face instantly went numb.

He didn't stop.

Again. And again.

The heavy, brutal blows rained down on my face, alternating left and right.

I didn't try to dodge. I didn't beg for mercy. I didn't even try to take a step back.

I stood perfectly rigid, keeping my eyes locked dead onto his face.

By the time he hit fifty, my vision started to swim with black spots.

A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears. The blood pooled heavily in my mouth, spilling over my lips.

A thick drop of my blood splashed onto the back of his hand. It was so hot that he actually flinched and pulled his hand back.