SERAPHINE
Paolo Rochas is as hideous as I remember. His pockmarked face and greasy hair frequented my nightmares of the night he and the others assaulted Mom.
My hatred for him is so strong that my sinuses are filled with the scent of his blood.
“What are you going to do with that drill?” he screams.
“Doesn’t feel so good to be powerless, does it, Paolo?” I hiss through my teeth.
He flinches. “What?”
“You talk about that night so casually, like the most important thing that happened was getting into a car and abducting Gabriel.”
His eyes dart toward Leroi, who’s giving me space to exact my revenge. My lip curls. Does this scumbag think Leroi will come to the rescue just because they’re both men?
“Do you remember Evangeline Capello?”
He swallows, shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut.
“You should, considering how you choked her with that hideous thing between your legs. What did you say to her?”
His breath hitches, and his body seizes with shudders. I rev up the drill’s motor, making him flinch sideways. He was so arrogant when Dad ordered him to silence her, so proud to open his fly and shove his filthy penis down her throat.
“You don’t get to zone out.” I slap his cheek. “Open your eyes or I’ll drill a hole through their lids.”
His eyes pop open, his features contorting with anguish. “That wasn’t me. It was someone else—”
“Don’t lie.” I hold the drill bit an inch away from his face and press the trigger with a few warning revs.
He jerks backward and screams. “I was under orders. If I didn’t do it, I would have ended up dead on the floor like Raphael.”
Another lie. My throat clogs with guilt, but I swallow it back. None of this was my fault. I need to focus on the men responsible for Mom’s brutal murder.
“You like it, whore?” I say with a sneer. “You like choking on this huge dick?”
His eyes flash with recognition. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I wanted nothing to do with what happened to Evangeline, but I had no choice.”
“Show me.”
He stiffens, his eyes widening.
“I want to see if it’s as big as you boast.”
“Seraphine,” Leroi cautions from behind me.
I ignore him. If I can’t use Miko to make him jealous, then I’ll take advantage of Paolo’s last moments. Paolo swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. I want to shove the drill bit into the lump to make him choke, but I save that thought for later.
“My hands are tied,” he whispers. “If you want to see my dick, you have to pull it out.”
I return the drill to the counter, my gaze falling on the roll of knives. They’re all too big for what I have planned for Paolo, so I look through the tool set, and decide on a box cutter with a curved handle.
Leroi grabs my forearm, then leans into me and growls, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t interfere with my revenge,” I hiss.
He squeezes hard enough to punctuate his point. “Behave yourself.”
“Are you taking his side?” I look him full in the face.
Leroi’s eyes are dark pits of fury, his jaw clenched tight. He doesn’t answer because that would mean telling the truth about how he really feels. Leroi is too stubborn to admit he wants me.
He releases my arm, and I turn back to Paolo with a smirk. Paolo’s breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and his face is a mask of terror. I step closer, my lips curved into a smile.
“That night, you were touching yourself through your pants, aching for your turn with Mom.”
His Adam’s apple bobs.
I press the box cutter to his fly. “Now, it’s my turn with you.”
“Don’t do this,” he croaks. “Please.”
My head tilts. “You remembered. Those are the exact words Mom said before you shoved that filthy thing down her throat.”
I don’t wait for his response because I’m already slicing through the fabric of his jeans. Paolo flinches and hisses as my blade nicks his skin.
“Oops, sorry.” I raise a shoulder. “I hope this doesn’t affect the quality of your erection.”
“You’re crazy.”
I reach into the gaping hole and grab his penis. It’s soft and limp and pitifully small. “What’s this?”
He jerks his head to the side. “Please, no.”
My fingers tighten around his flesh until he screams at me to stop. I tug and squeeze, trying to make him harden, but all I achieve are more agonized cries.
“This isn’t going to work,” I mutter, my fingers loosening. “Not like this.”
Paolo flops forward and groans, but it’s far too early for him to feel relief.
Leroi’s glare burns the side of my face as I return to the counter to pick up the drill. The weight of his disapproval pushes down on my shoulders, but I ignore him and his double standards.
“You’re probably one of those guys who can’t get off unless he’s in a position of power,” I say.
Paolo shakes his head from side to side.
“So if you close your eyes and listen to the drill at its highest setting, you can imagine you’ve trapped a screaming woman.”
“You’re sick,” he rasps.
“At least I’m honest enough to admit it.”
I pull the trigger again, and press the bottom of the drill to his penis, letting the vibrations do their work. Paolo’s screams mingle with the whine of the drill, creating a horrifying medley.
Tears stream down his greasy face as he writhes and spasms in his seat. My gaze bounces from his pained features to his burgeoning erection, the pulse between my thighs quickening.
“For the love of god,” he cries. “Please, stop.”
“Where was your god when you were forcing yourself down her throat? You should have thought of that before.”
Paolo’s penis lengthens and thickens until it’s over four times its original size. I release the trigger, my eyes widening.
“Wow,” I whisper. “You’re a grower, not a shower?”
“Seraphine,” Leroi growls.
“It’s pretty big for a filthy old man.”
Paolo sobs.
I snap my teeth.
“No,” he cries.
A laugh bubbles from my chest. “Don’t worry. I won’t put it in my mouth.”
I can almost hear Leroi’s sigh of relief, but I’m more concerned about giving Paolo what he deserves. With one hand, I grip his erection.
“Impressive,” I whisper, loud enough for Leroi’s benefit. “You’re so thick that my fingers aren’t touching.”
Paolo stiffens, his entire body trembling.
I stroke his shaft with a slow and reverent touch.
“Please, stop,” he whispers.
Leroi grumbles but doesn’t interfere.
Turning around the drill, I aim the bit at Paolo’s slit. He twists and screams, finally seeming to understand his fate.
“I’m so glad you’re so long and thick, otherwise this won’t work.”
Paolo’s legs jerk, but they’re fastened to the chair. He raises his hips, but they’re also strapped down. No matter how much he thrashes, he can’t escape the drill.
The motor is off when I position the bit against his slit, yet he cries as though it were still on. I insert about an inch before I meet resistance, but one gentle press of the trigger is all it takes to deepen the penetration.
Vibrations reverberate through my fingers, and blood cascades over my skin, but it’s nothing compared to how my ears ring with his screams. Revenge on Paolo satisfies nearly all my senses.
I savor this moment of absolute power.
All those years ago when I hid behind the door of Dad’s office, I never imagined I’d have such satisfying revenge. I want to send this pretty picture to the girl I once was to let her know the ordeal she’s about to suffer won’t last forever.
“That’s it,” I say, mirroring the words in my dream. “Take it. Take it all like a good little whore.”
The drill burrows further into his shaft, and by the time it’s all the way in, Paolo’s screams fall quiet.
He’s probably gone into shock.
I pull the drill in and out of his deflating erection, in time to the thrusts that haunt my dreams. It’s still surging with blood that soaks his jeans and spreads over the floor.
A gunshot rings through my ears, interrupting my revelry.
When I glance up, Paolo has a hole in the center of his forehead.
Before I can even protest, strong hands grab my shoulders and spin me around. Leroi glares down at me, his eyes still blazing. His lips flatten across his teeth, and every vein on his temple bulges. My gaze travels down to the arteries protruding from his neck, and I moan.
“You touched his cock,” he snarls.
Just as I think he’s about to chastise me, his lips crash onto mine in a punishing kiss.
