Page 266 of Coal Hearts

“I had a nightmare,” Peter blurted. “I, eh...woke them by accident, and they followed me into the gem room.” He hung his head. “They were only trying to console me, Sir V. I’m sorry—”

“Ah, Peter.” Victor ran a hand over his mouth. “Will you ever stop trying to take the blame?”

Peter hunched lower.

Ily inched closer, pressing her naked thigh to his linen-covered one.

A flare of annoyance cut through me. I put down my baguette before I throttled it.

A stagnant pause before Victor quit his pacing and faced his row of bruised and obedient jewels.

For the first time, I noticed some of them were missing a few pieces.

A finger, an ear...

My heart stung for a moment, then went quiet.

Butchering people wasn’t on my list of proclivities, but I had no morality left to judge those who did.

“You know lying never works because I see all things.” He tossed a smirk over his shoulder, looking directly at me.

My instincts prickled.

What the fuck was that?

Looking back at his slaves, Victor added, “The skin sandwich I can tolerate. Everyone needs some comfort once in a while, and I’m not such a harsh Master to deny you a platonic hug every now and again. However...” His voice grew icicles. “I saw a kiss that shouldn’t have happened, and my guests were inconvenienced by all of you being late.” He tapped his Rolex. “Twenty-three minutes late to be exact.” He sighed dramatically. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

Marching to my side, Victor placed a hand on my shoulder. “Henri, you decide. After all, the kiss involved the jewel you paid so handsomely for.”

“Excuse me?” My voice darkened. “Ily kissed someone?”

Her chin tipped up, defiant or just despairing...I couldn’t tell.

Our eyes met for the first time since I’d sunk inside her last night.

I waited all over again for some shred of the idiotic tosser I’d been. For crushes and obsessions to pounce.

But my head remained clear.

She belonged to me. Her every breath, touch, kiss, and fuck was mine.

So who the hell dared to steal one?

Standing slowly, I narrowed my eyes on Peter.

“You.” I stalked toward the edge of the deck. “I told you last night what would happen if you ever touched her.”

Other guests settled deeper into their chairs, sipping coffees and biting into berry muffins. Silence fell in the gardens. Even the birdsong and happy crickets quietened.

Peter kept his eyes on the grass.

The same grass where I’d finally sunk into the epiphany that I was free.

Flexing my hands, punishments collided in my head.

A whipping might be apt.

Castration was probably going too far.