Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“There she is,” The Butcher said.
“Fuck you,” Amelia snarled and spat in The Butcher’s direction.
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
The Butcher already had her knife in hand and was getting into position.
Amelia looked at me, and the façade had been dropped. She must have known there was no way out of this. She was going to die.
“Do you think I was going to be a maid forever? Scrubbing floors? My dad said it was a good job, an honorable job, and I’d find myself a man. A man with a good paying job, but that is not what I want. I want to have fun. I want to have money, and this is the easy way.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Your wife doesn’t deserve this life. She doesn’t deserve to be free.”
I moved closer and crouched on the floor so Amelia had no choice but to look at me. I gripped her chin and held her tightly, causing her pain, but I didn’t care. She needed to feel the pain. She tried to pull away from my grip, but I was not going to let her go.
“My wife is going to live because I am going to do everything in my power to give her a good life. Whores like you die. If you had come to me, told me what was going on, what you’d been asked to do, I would have rewarded you, Amelia. Instead, you made the wrong choice.”
I stepped back and nodded at The Butcher.
The fear was only fleeting, and in my humble opinion, it was too quick of a death. One she didn’t deserve.
And with that, The Butcher sliced the blade across Amelia’s throat, digging in as she did, so there was no prolonging her death. She was dead instantly. And The Butcher wiped her blade on Amelia’s clothing.
“We need to check every single person who works for you. You need to scale back the staff. Limit those that come in and go out. The Grid are coming, and trust me, they never fail.”
“You think they’re going to succeed in taking my wife?” I asked.
The Butcher looked at me. “The Grid has never failed.”
“That is not answering me.”
“That is me answering you. There is a difference, though,” The Butcher said.
I was not in the mood to be talking riddles.
“The Beast and I are not working for them. We’re working for Ivan, and that is what makes this different.”
“Why?” I asked.
The Butcher was already heading toward the room. “Why what?”
“Why are you willing to work for Ivan? What has changed?”
“A lot changed,” The Butcher said. “And some stuff, you don’t need to know.”
“You worked for The Grid,” I said.
She didn’t stop as she kept walking up the stairs.
“And you think I should trust you?” I asked.
“Ivan trusts me, and believe me when I say all I want to do is bring down The Grid, and make Harris pay for his part in it.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving me alone with the dead body. Pulling out my cell phone, I called the cleanup crew, then left the basement and made my way toward my office. Only, I came to a stop as I bumped into my wife. She wore a cute pair of pajamas that had little puppies all over them. The moment she looked up at me, she took a step back. I deserved that.
She also averted her gaze so she was looking down at the ground. Amelia had been jealous of my wife. So jealous, she had chosen to help kill her.
I didn’t want to be married to anyone.
Freya was not at all like the woman I imagined being married to. In the beginning, Ivan had me engaged to a dumb bitch with lots of Daddy’s money to waste. Ivan changed his mood. One by one, the women we were all previously engaged to, went by the by, and Ivan came up with another plan.
One by one the Brigadiers had fallen, leaving just me. I was content to not have a woman.
“What is your fucking problem?” I asked, watching as she flinched. Grabbing her arms, I moved her out of the way. “Learn to watch where you’re fucking going.”
And with that, I headed straight toward my office, where I could start dealing with work.
****
Freya
The past week had been kind of shocking. I spent a great deal of time with The Butcher. She didn’t mind sitting in my sewing room as I worked on a new quilt. I did want to attempt to make some dresses, but a quilt was challenging in a whole new way. She either read a book, or actually helped me cut out squares for my project.
She helped me to move rooms. I did try to sleep in the room where she had killed someone, but there was no way I could. Someone had died in that room, and as I laid in bed, I was convinced I heard them speaking to me. My imagination was driving me crazy, and rather than stick around to see the end result, I simply changed bedrooms.