Page 9 of Coal Hearts

Violence.

It always brought out the worst in me.

“Say it again. Go on. I dare you!” the man yelled in her face, shaking her. “You really want to do this? Here? Right now? When we’re on holiday in fucking Paris?”

“I know it’s not ideal, Sam, but...I’ve reached my limit. I just...I can’t do it anymore.” The girl’s profile came into view as she squirmed in the guy’s grip. “Just let me go, and we’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere quiet where we can talk and—”

“I don’t want to bloody talk, Ily! That’s the problem with you. That’s all you want to do these days. Talk. Or take a walk. Or watch another doco on yet another stupid rock. You’ve turned frigid—”

“Don’t you dare call me frigid. I am not—”

“Lately, you spend more time fondling your rocks than you do my cock, and frankly, I’ve had enough.”

“Good! I’ve had enough too!” Her blue-black hair swung as she fought to get out of his control. “I’d much rather touch those stupid rocks than your cock any day.”

“And I’d rather be with someone who has the drive to be rich and successful instead of throwing her life away wishing she was the goddamn queen so she can wear a goddamn tiara!”

“I am a queen, Sam. That’s why I’m dumping you. You don’t deserve me.”

Sam let out a cruel laugh. “A queen, huh? I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but before I came along, you were failing at all levels of life. Unwanted by the whore who birthed you, adopted by a family with more issues than most people put together, sickeningly close to your adoptive brother—which explains your lack of putting out with me: you’re probably fucking him—”

She moved as fast as a viper.

Her arm was a blur as she slapped the bastard viciously hard on his pompous cheek.

The crack of her strike ricocheted over the heavy music, decorating his white skin with a perfect red imprint of her palm.

He froze.

She froze.

The crowd blatantly watching them gasped, and the bartender who’d given them shots rapidly poured a few more, shoving the wooden board between them as if it would stop whatever war was about to ensue.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

I wanted to snatch the girl into my own arms and dare her to slap me the same way. I’d let her get one good hit in before I threw her on the bar, spread her legs, and feasted on the same pussy she’d denied her ex.

I’d find out for myself if she was frigid because a girl who could fight that bravely and slap that fiercely wasn’t meek or weak. She was courageous—probably too much for her own good. And definitely far too much for a man like me.

Her spirit was fucking kryptonite to a man like me.

It made all the monstrous, diabolical urges inside me come dangerously alive. They snarled and howled for a single taste. For the chance to dominate—

The Master Jeweler sidestepped, blocking my view.

A low growl echoed in my chest. The urge to shove him out of the way shot down my arms before I remembered who he was and why I was here.

Family.

Future.

A cure for the sickness inside me.

Gritting my teeth, I forced a smile.

He met it with one of his own, thin and arrogant, eyes narrowed with a glint I didn’t like.

“You asked why we can’t speak plainly? Fine.” Smiling wider, he crossed his arms and kept his voice low enough not to be overheard. “You came here seeking my approval to join my exclusive club. However, even with a personal recommendation from one of my members, you are not guaranteed access. Only proof of who you truly are will do that.”