The office smells like leather and expensive perfume. Leena sits at her desk, her posture perfect. Straight-backed. Composed. Her fingers tap across the keyboard, reviewing emails with practiced efficiency.
Beneath her, Rider is bent backward. His spine arched. His body forming a makeshift chair. His hands are braced against the floor behind him. His legs are spread for balance. He's shaking. Trembling from the strain.
Leena shifts her weight slightly. Rider grunts. She doesn't acknowledge it. Her eyes stay fixed on the screen.
Two weeks. Two weeks of constant physical and mental abuse. Two weeks of breaking him down piece by piece. The powerful man who once controlled her is gone. What's left is docile. Empty. A pet.
Leena scrolls through the emails. There are dozens of them. All asking the same thing. Where is Rider? Business partners. Associates. Investors. All demanding answers. All wanting to know why he disappeared so suddenly.
Some are polite. Professional. Others are angry. Threatening.
Leena chuckles softly. She glances down at Rider. His eyes are vacant. Staring at nothing.
"What should I tell them?" she asks mockingly. "That you're indisposed? That you've had a change of heart?"
Rider doesn't respond. His breathing is shallow. Labored.
Leena's smile widens. She returns to the screen and types a quick reply to one of the emails. Everything is fine. Rider is taking some personal time. All business matters are being handled appropriately.
She hits send. Then moves to the next one. And the next. The responses are all the same. Vague. Reassuring. Meaningless.
Rider's back begins to slouch. His arms are giving out. Leena feels the shift immediately. Her weight tilts forward slightly.
She reaches down without looking. Her hand cracks across his ass. Hard. The sound echoes in the quiet office.
"Straighten up," she says sharply.
Rider gasps. His body jerks. He forces his spine to arch again. His arms shake violently as he pushes himself back into position.
Leena settles back into place. She runs her hand over his head. Her fingers thread through his hair. Gentle. Almost affectionate.
"Good boy," she murmurs.
Rider's breathing hitches. But he doesn't speak. Doesn't move.
Leena turns her attention to the paper list on her desk. It's handwritten. Neat. Organized. A list of names. Men who used her. Men who treated her like a slut when she was Rider's bitch.
She scans the names slowly. Some of them are irrelevant now. Small-time players who don't matter anymore. Others are too powerful. Untouchable. For now.
Her eyes land on one name. Jack Morris.
Leena's jaw tightens. Jack. The King of King's Paradise. She and no idea it was him when he fucked her in front of Rider. The one who made her feel like nothing. Who took what he wanted and walked away.
It's almost impressive how much he's changed. She had to admit. She still remembers her loving, naive, innocent husband as If it were yesterday. How much fun would it be to break him?
She'll deal with him eventually. But not yet. Not while she's still fighting his own battles.
Her eyes move down the list. Then they stop. Marcus Whitmore.
Leena smiles. Slow. Predatory.
She stands abruptly. Rider collapses to the floor with a grunt. His body crumples. He gasps for air.
Leena reaches down and yanks the collar around his neck. The leather digs into his skin. She pulls him to his feet.
"Come," she says.
Rider stumbles after her. His legs are weak. Unsteady. But he follows. He always follows.
***
The dungeon is cold. The air smells like damp stone and sweat. The walls are rough concrete. The lighting is dim. Flickering. There are metal bars along one side. Cells. Most of them are empty.
Leena's heels click against the floor as she walks. Rider shuffles behind her. His breathing is ragged. He hesitates as they descend the stairs.
Leena glances back at him. "Don't worry," she says. "We're not here for you."
She smiles faintly. "This place has a new owner."
They reach the bottom of the stairs. Leena turns and walks toward one of the cells. The metal bars are thick. Rusted. Inside, there's a bed. And on the bed is Marcus Whitmore.
He's splayed out. His wrists are cuffed to the top corners of the bed. His ankles are cuffed to the bottom corners. He's completely exposed. Vulnerable. His body is covered in bruises. Dark purple. Yellow. Green.
There are two women with him. One of them is behind him. She's holding a dildo. Large. Black. She's fucking him with it. Hard. Her other hand holds a whip. She brings it down across his back. The crack echoes.
Marcus jerks. His body convulses. But he can't move. Can't escape.
The other woman is riding his face. Her hips roll. Grinding. She's moaning softly. Her hands are braced on the wall above the bed. She slaps his chest with a paddle.
"Suck harder," she hisses.
Marcus's dick is trapped in a chastity belt. The metal cage is tight. Constricting. His cock strains against it. Desperate. Denied.
Leena stops in front of the cell. She crosses her arms. Watches.
"Having fun, girls?" she asks.
The women freeze. They turn immediately. Their expressions shift. Respectful.
"Mistress," they say in unison.
Leena's eyes move to Marcus. His face is dazed. Hurt. His eyes are glassy. Unfocused.
"Good job," Leena says.
The women blush. The one with the dildo speaks first.
"He's not responding well," she says. "Because of the drugs."
Leena nods. "Make sure not to go too far," she says. "I want him alive."
"Yes, Mistress," they say together.
Leena turns away. She yanks Rider's collar again. He stumbles after her.
***
The Madam is waiting at the top of the stairs. She's a tall woman. Elegant. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun. Her expression is calm. Professional.
"Mistress," she says. "There's a problem."
Leena's eyes narrow. "What kind of problem?"
"A customer," the Madam says. "He's treating one of the girls badly. Security tried to intervene. They've been knocked out."
Leena's jaw tightens. "Show me."
The Madam leads her down the hallway. They reach one of the private rooms. The door is ajar. Leena pushes it open.
Two large security guards are on the floor. Unconscious. Their bodies are sprawled. Unmoving.
Leena's eyes move to the bed. A man is there. Average height. Strong build. Rough hard face. He's forcing one of Leena's sex workers down onto his cock. His hand is on the back of her head. Pushing. Controlling.
The woman is gagging. Choking. Tears stream down her face.
The man slaps her ass. Hard. "Good little slut," he says.
Leena's blood boils. Her hand moves to the small pink pistol tucked into her waistband. She pulls it out. Points it at him.
"Get off of her," she shouts.
The man finally looks up. He doesn't seem concerned. He smirks.
"Give me one minute," he says.
Leena's finger tightens on the trigger. But she doesn't fire. Not yet.
A few moments later, the man grunts. He comes. Then he tosses the woman aside. She collapses on the bed. Gasping. Sobbing.
The man pulls up his pants. He stretches. Casual. Relaxed.
"Whew," he says. "The women here are smoking hot. But they give weak head."
Leena's hand shakes. She keeps the gun trained on him.
"We do not treat the women here like that," she says. Her voice is cold. Sharp. "The women here are treated with respect."
The man scoffs. "You must be Leena."
Leena pauses. "Do you know me?"
"You're the reason I'm here," he says.
He gestures to the girl on the bed. "But I got a little sidetracked."
He points to them again. "If you're going to run a place like this, you ought to get better security."
Leena shoots the floor. The sound is deafening. The bullet ricochets. The man flinches.
"You have three seconds to explain what you're doing here," Leena says. "Or you're dead."
The man puts up his hands. Mockingly. "Killing me would be a bad idea."
"Why?"
"My name is Veeno," he says. "I work for Cage."
Leena's stomach drops. Cage. She's heard of him. Of course she has. Ever since Jack's fall, Cage has been the new king. Claiming he'll rule both Crello and Southside.
"What do you want?" Leena asks.
Veeno smiles. "It's simple. Cage wants a share of your business here. For protection." He looks at the woman on the bed. His smile turns creepy. Predatory. "And of course," he says, "some VIP privileges."
Leena's fury peaks. The money for protection she could let slide. If it meant not getting on Cage's bad side, she was willing. She still had her legitimate business. David was working on that.
But the thought of Veeno and his goons here whenever they wanted. Doing whatever they wanted. Using her women. The thought sends chills of disgust and rage down her spine.
"Tell Cage to fuck off," Leena says.
Veeno clicks his tongue. "That's not a wise choice. Cage is only going to offer this chance once. Before he burns the place down."
"He can try," Leena says.
She shoots another warning shot. The bullet hits the wall beside Veeno's head. He finches again.
"Get out," Leena says.
Veeno walks toward the door slowly. As he passes Leena, he reaches out. Tries to touch her face.
Leena smacks his hand away. Hard.
Veeno chuckles. "I'll be back," he says.
He walks out. His footsteps echo down the hallway.
Leena stands there. Her hand is shaking. She lowers the gun. Then she walks to the bed. The woman is still sobbing. Leena sits beside her. She pulls her into her arms.
"It's okay," Leena whispers. "You're safe now."
The woman clings to her. Leena strokes her hair. Her expression is soft. Gentle.
But inside, she's panicking. How the fuck am I going to avoid Cage's destruction?
She has no answer. Not yet. But she'll find one. She always does.