Kneel For Me:Toys of the Tyrant Fiancée

My fiancé vanished after plunging off a cliff right before our wedding. He was traveling with his two best friends, Jude and Cole.

Drowning in guilt over his disappearance, the two of them swore they'd step up and take care of me in Valerian's place. So, I used them as my personal punching bags.

I shoved all my grief and rage down their throats. I snapped orders, hurled glasses at their heads, and screamed until my throat went raw. They took it.

Their jaws would lock and their knuckles would turn white, but they never talked back. Then, the System dropped into my brain. It told me my reality was just a trashy romance novel.

And I wasn't the star. I was the villainess. The toxic ex. [Your fiancé survived the fall but lost his memory.

He is currently falling in love with the heroine.] [The two men you've been tormenting are the male lead's most ruthless enforcers.

The second Valerian returns to the city, he will dump you to marry her. You will become the ultimate laughingstock of the elite circle.

Afterward, Jude and Cole will torture you until you completely lose your mind.] [Host, stop your current behavior immediately, and you might just live.] Chapter 1 The System crashed into my brain the exact second my palm cracked across Jude's jaw.

To force me to stop, it jammed a massive data dump of some bullshit "plotline" directly into my skull. It claimed my reality was nothing but a trashy novel.

Valerian, my fiancé who vanished off a cliff, was the male lead. The heroine? Some transmigrated country bumpkin. And me? I was the toxic villainess.

According to the voices in my head, Valerian survived the fall but got amnesia. He was currently playing house and falling madly in love with this country girl.

Once his memory rebooted, he'd drag her back to the city, shatter our engagement, and marry her instead. [You will become consumed by jealousy,] the System's mechanical voice echoed. [You will constantly sabotage the heroine, ultimately disgusting the male lead.] [In the end, you will fall into the hands of the two supporting male leads who hate you to the bone—Valerian's sworn brothers.

They will return every ounce of torment you've inflicted upon them.

You will be tortured until your mind snaps, and you'll end your own life by smashing your head against a wall.] My fingers dug into my temples.

The silence in the room was deafening. A dark, suffocating rage coiled in the pit of my stomach, thick and venomous, desperately searching for a target.

Jude knelt on the floor at my feet, a stark red handprint already blooming across his pale cheek. He lifted his gaze, his dark eyes flickering with a microscopic trace of confusion.

He was waiting for the drop. Usually, after the first strike, I'd be in his face, hurling insults and tearing him apart for at least another half hour before I let him breathe.

Valerian had two rideordie brothers, and Jude was one of them. On the day Valerian took his plunge, the three of them were supposed to be traveling together. An ambush, they said.

Valerian went over the edge, swallowed by the abyss, leaving only Cole and Jude to crawl back.

They drowned in their own guilt, convinced Valerian's disappearance was entirely their fault. Which meant my ruined wedding was their fault, too.

They swore a blood oath to take care of me until he was found. Even if I used them as human punching bags. I barked orders, hurled glasses, and left bruises.

And they just swallowed it, their jaws clenched tight. Jude watched my knuckles whiten against my temples.

The muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed. "Vesper… are you alright?" The sound of his voice was the exact spark my powder keg needed.

My hand snapped out, cracking across his other cheek. "Do I look alright?!" I jabbed a finger at his face. "If you assholes hadn't dragged Valerian out there, he never would've gone missing, and my skull wouldn't feel like it's splitting open!" And I wouldn't have to deal with this System's absolute bullshit.

Amnesia? A heroine? A broken engagement? My entire tragic fate in this garbage novel was entirely the fault of these two walking jinxes.

If they had just kept him home, or at least done their damn jobs and protected him, I'd be living a perfect, privileged life right now.

The System's mechanical buzzing abruptly died in my head. It dumped all that horrorshow lore on me to scare me straight, to make me back off.

It clearly underestimated my capacity for petty vengeance. Jude's head was still turned from the impact.

He lowered his eyes, his voice steady and infuriatingly gentle. "You're right. It's our fault." That pathetic, submissive act always made my blood boil.

I snatched my teacup from the side table and hurled the cold contents straight into his face. Jude squeezed his eyes shut.

Amber droplets traced the sharp line of his nose, dripping from his strong jaw.

The moisture clung to his skin, highlighting the infuriatingly perfect structure of his cheekbones and darkening the crisp collar of his shirt where it plastered against his neck.

The better he looked, the more he disgusted me. Jude played the perfect, obedient punching bag, but beneath that subservient surface, I knew he had a spine of steel.

Chapter 2 As Valerian's sworn brother, Jude would rather let me use him as a literal punching bag every single day than let me have a single taste.

Having a gorgeous, untouchable piece of eye candy hovering around you 24/7 does things to a person.

Give it enough time, and that frustrated obsession sours into pure, toxic resentment. Teasing without delivering. He might as well be dead.

I jerked my chin toward the door. "Get out, you cheap tease." Jude's thick lashes fluttered. His lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line, but he didn't argue.

He pushed himself off the floor. His tall frame swayed as he shifted his weight—a side effect of kneeling on the hardwood for so long.

Honestly, he was getting off ridiculously easy today. Usually, I'd make sure he left with a few fresh welts across his back.

Jude should be thanking whatever glitchedout AI just hijacked my brain.

Otherwise, I would've drawn blood before letting him walk out that door. [I just showed you the catastrophic future that awaits you,] the System buzzed, sounding genuinely exasperated. [Why are you still treating the supporting male lead like garbage?] [Jude might look like a harmless, silent saint, but he is incredibly calculating and holds deadly grudges.

In the future, he is the mastermind who tortures you until you lose your mind.] 'He owes me,' I shot back in my head. [But Valerian falling off the cliff wasn't their fault!] the System protested. [It's a fixed plot point!] I scoffed internally.

Of course it was their fault. Valerian and I grew up together.

We were supposed to be married two years ago, but he just had to go overseas to play soldier and rack up some bullshit military glory.

This time, the second his boots touched home soil, we were supposed to finally tie the knot. I waited. I played the good little fiancée.

I even cleared out my entire stable of boy toys just because he threw jealous tantrums and demanded I be exclusively his.

And after all that, my guaranteed, lockedin prize just vanished into thin air. Am I not supposed to be pissed?

Since his lapdogs were partially responsible, why shouldn't I use them to blow off steam?

As far as I was concerned, they should have either all come back together, or all died in that ditch together.

The fact that Valerian was the only one who went missing just made the man I chose look utterly incompetent.

Honestly, I didn't buy a single word this digital parasite was feeding me.

It just dumps a pile of unverified fanfiction into my skull and expects me to fall in line like an obedient little puppet?

The plot it shoved down my throat got the broad strokes right, but the details were completely warped.

For instance, the script claimed Valerian never loved me—that he was only forced to stick by my side because of my family's old money and extreme pressure from our elite circle.

Bullshit. If he didn't like me, why was he constantly chasing off my side pieces? If he didn't like me, why did he cling to me like a suffocating shadow 24/7?

If it weren't for our childhood history, I could have easily snapped up some openminded trust fund heir to be my trophy husband while I kept a whole harem of pretty boys on the side.

I didn't need a petty, obsessively jealous, and apparently useless piece of work like Valerian.

Which proved one thing: this System was completely full of shit. 'Who gave you permission to hack into my brain and shove all this fake garbage down my throat?' I snapped mentally. 'You owe me too.

You just ruined my damn day.' The System fell momentarily silent, clearly thrown by the fact that I was blaming it. [I'm here to help you!] it buzzed, sounding deeply wronged. [I am the 'Save the Villainess' System!

If we just tweak your personality a little bit—just rein in the toxicity a fraction—we can completely avoid your tragic ending!] 'Oh, you want to help?' I shot back. 'If you know the whole plot, why don't you just fix the problem for me?

Either go execute Valerian right now, or drag his amnesiac ass back here. Boom. No tragic ending for me.' 'At the end of the day, you're just as useless as those two idiots.

You can't actually fix anything, so you point the finger at me.

If you really wanted to save me, you'd go assassinate the root of the problem: the male and female leads.' 'Telling me all this crap is a waste of code.

I'm not changing a damn thing.' Chapter 3 The System fell dead silent. I could practically hear the sound of its digital heart shattering.

I didn't care. 'Since they're a threat to me,' I told it, 'I'll just hire someone to wipe them out.

If they're all dead, I won't have to deal with this headache.' [Host, absolutely not!] the System shrieked, its grief instantly vanishing into sheer panic. [The male lead, the heroine, and the supporting male leads are core pillars of this world!

They cannot die! And we don't even have the power to kill them!] I called its bluff. I sent a few fixers out to eliminate Jude and Cole. Unsurprisingly, they failed miserably.

Message received. So, I pivoted to Plan B. I was going to turn them both into my personal boy toys. [What kind of psychotic plan is this?!] the System screamed in my head.

I took a slow sip of my iced tea, feeling fantastic. 'I was planning on getting some side pieces anyway.

I only held off because I thought Valerian might still be alive and I'd have to deal with his whining.

But since you just confirmed he's out there playing house with a shiny new toy, getting my own stable of men is just evening the playing field.' I'd had my eye on Jude from the start anyway.

He just always kept up this impenetrable fortress of boundaries, never letting me touch.

Now that I knew Valerian was going to break our engagement—and that Jude was supposedly destined to torture me—I had zero fks left to give.

I'd just drag him into my bedroom and lock the door. Cole was just an added bonus. He was Valerian's younger cousin, practically attached to his hip since childhood.

Young, feral, and explosive. Every time I tore into them, Cole was the one who barked back. He was torn between suffocating guilt over Valerian and sheer rage over my behavior.

If Jude was pliant clay, Cole was jagged concrete. Hard to handle. Which meant there was no sweeter revenge than forcing him to serve me.

After all, I was the fiancée of the older cousin he worshipped. Cole had been watching Jude and me like a hawk anyway.

He probably sensed I wanted a bite of Jude and wanted to run interference. As for their supposed future revenge?

Let's ignore the fact that my mother and my uncle—who practically ran the state as Governor—would never let that happen. Right now, I just wanted to have my fun.

I had security summon them. Then, I deliberately slept until noon, leaving both of them standing in the grand foyer all morning.

Before I even reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard Cole's furious pacing. "This is insane.

I knew she was up to something malicious when she called us," Cole scoffed. "She's probably just looking for a new way to use us as punching bags. "I don't know how Valerian tolerated a psycho like her.

Did he take too much shrapnel to the head overseas?

Is he a closet masochist?" "Cole, watch your mouth," Jude cut in, his voice low and steady. "Vesper isn't like that." I stepped into the foyer. Both of them froze.

Jude immediately lowered his head in greeting. Cole, as always, kept his spine rigid, his jaw set in pure defiance. An untrainable mutt.

I sank into the velvet armchair at the head of the room, crossing my legs. "I called you here today to make an announcement." I traced the rim of a crystal glass on the side table. "My uncle thinks Valerian has been missing too long.

He assumes the worst. And because he hates seeing me so lonely…" I paused, letting my gaze sweep over them. "He's gifted both of you to me.

You're my new livein entertainment." I dropped the words slowly, letting each syllable hit them like a physical blow.

The blood drained from both their faces, leaving them staring at me in dead silence.

Cole exploded instantly. "Are you out of your mind?!" He lunged forward a step. "Valerian is still out there! We haven't even found a body!

And we have a goddamn empire to build—you think we're going to rot in your penthouse as your pathetic little toys?!" Chapter 4 Forcing them into the role of my personal boy toys completely nuked their career trajectories.

Jude was the golden boy of the political elite, a brilliant strategist with limitless potential.

Even Cole, who looked like a hotheaded meathead with more muscle than brains, was Valerian's most lethal enforcer.

He was still young, but he was groomed to take over the family's underground operations. This brand of revenge was basically grinding their pride into the dirt.

Jude, always the pragmatic one, kept his composure. "Vesper, you can't just mandate this. There's a line you don't cross with your brother's fiancée.

It's wildly inappropriate, and if word gets out, it'll completely destroy your reputation in the circle." I couldn't care less about the tabloids or the whispers of the elite.

If I was bold enough to cross the line, I was bold enough to own it. Besides, no one in this city had the guts to say a damn word to my face anyway.

Even if they whispered behind closed doors, it was just white noise. I leaned back, crossing my legs. "You have until this afternoon to pack your things and move into my estate.

Tonight, my staff will scrub you down and prep you. I don't allow dirty things into my bedroom." A final, absolute verdict.

Seeing there was no way to negotiate, Jude simply lowered his eyes. "Understood." Cole kept screaming and thrashing, but it was useless.

As security escorted them out to the cars, I caught Cole turning his rage onto Jude. "What the hell do you mean, 'understood'?!

Is this exactly what you wanted?" Cole shoved Jude's shoulder. "Let me remind you, she is Valerian's girl. Always will be.

If you give a single shit about our brotherhood, you better bury whatever twisted thoughts you have." Apparently, these two weren't as tight as they pretended to be.

Valerian had always been the glue holding their little trio together. The second he vanished, the foundation crumbled. Jude didn't even blink. "It's a tactical retreat.

Did you really think throwing a tantrum would make her change her mind? "Our only play is to speed up the search for Valerian.

When he gets back, he'll handle her, and she'll be forced to let us go." Cole's jaw ticked. Knowing Jude was right, he finally shut his mouth.

Cole had to be physically carried into my estate.

He fought the whole way, throwing punches and kicking like a wild animal until my security detail literally dragged him across the marble floors.

He looked pathetic, like a pig hauled to the slaughterhouse. Today was the ultimate humiliation for him—a million times worse than just taking a physical beating.

My head of staff reported that they had to ziptie his wrists just to get him into the tub. They scrubbed him down and doused him in heavy, imported oils.

By the time they dragged him to my master suite, the scent was so suffocating his eyes were watering, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to gag.

Jude, unsurprisingly, fared much better. He always knew how to play the game to avoid unnecessary suffering. Still, the staff had dressed them both for the occasion.

They wore nothing but sheer, unbuttoned white silk shirts that clung to their skin and left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Being put on display like highend gigolos made the blood drain from both of their faces.

And to top it off, I had my head of staff stand in the corner, coldly lecturing them on the exact rules and etiquette of being a submissive bedmate.

I didn't bother stepping into the master suite until well after dark. Cole was sitting on the edge of the velvet mattress, his wrists and ankles bound with thick silk ties.

Jude was unrestrained—he was smart enough not to need them. "Did you pay attention in class?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Cole strained against the silk ties. "Vesper, you are absolutely out of your fucking mind! Valerian is missing, not dead!

Aren't you terrified of what he'll do to you when he finds out you treated us like this?!" The head of staff stepped forward, her voice sharp. "Silence!

You do not speak to her with such disrespect!" My assistant silently handed me a sleek leather riding crop. Without a second of hesitation, I lashed it across Cole's thigh.

He let out a sharp, choked gasp of pain, his muscles instantly locking up. I stepped closer, using the leather tip of the crop to force his chin up.

I looked down at him, watching his lips press into a stubborn, furious line. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable.

Cole had the same sharp, striking jawline as Valerian—they were cousins, after all. But Cole was younger. Fresher.

Chapter 5 "If he's alive and didn't drag his ass back here the second he could, then he might as well be dead," I said, tracing a manicured nail over the edge of a mahogany table. "And since he's out of the picture, me moving on and finding some new entertainment is perfectly reasonable, isn't it?" I paused, tilting my head as if pondering an utterly trivial dilemma. "And even if he does crawl back… so what?

If he can't handle sharing, he can cancel the wedding." Honestly, I was suffocating under Valerian's obsessive, paranoid control anyway.

The whole amnesia plot the System had warned me about was practically a giftwrapped favor.

Cole glared at me from the floor, his chest heaving like a feral wolf pup waiting for the exact second to tear my throat out. "It's late," I announced, breaking his staring contest. "Time for bed." My head of staff stepped forward. "Undress her," she instructed, her cold, authoritative gaze dropping to the two men.

Cole was too busy burning holes into my skull to even register her words, let alone obey. Jude's jaw flexed.

He hesitated for three agonizing seconds before pushing himself up from his knees. "I will do it," he murmured, his voice completely void of emotion.

Cole's head snapped toward him, his eyes blown wide in pure disbelief. He looked like he'd just watched Jude execute a puppy.

Even knowing Jude was just playing the survival game, the sheer, bitter betrayal radiating off Cole was palpable.

Now, his murderous glare was split between the two of us, like we were a pair of cheating bastards rubbing an affair in his face.

I didn't even look at him. "Keep staring, Cole, and I'll have your eyes gouged out with a grapefruit spoon." The glaring instantly stopped. He knew I wasn't bluffing.

Jude stood silently before me, his long fingers reaching for the top button of my dress.

For someone performing such an intimate task, he was keeping a rigid, desperate distance between our bodies.

I slid my hand forward, letting my palm settle flat against the dip of his waist. A tremor wracked his frame. His head snapped up, his dark eyes wide and pupils blown.

His gaze flickered frantically to Cole, who was staring at the floor, completely oblivious to the silent breakdown happening two feet away. "Vesper… you can't," Jude breathed, the words barely a rasp.

His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist to pull my hand away, but his grip was shaking. A dark, heated flush crawled up his neck, staining his pale cheeks.

A thin layer of moisture gathered in his eyes.

He wasn't ticklish—not usually—but the slow, deliberate glide of my fingertips tracing the taut muscle beneath his sheer silk shirt was clearly shredding his nerves.

It was a suffocating kind of tension, a phantom heat searing right through his ribcage, and he had absolutely no way to stop it. "Why are you standing so far away?" I murmured, stepping into his space. "Are you terrified of being close to me?

Because we're going to be doing things a lot closer than this." The red flush deepened, practically swallowing him whole.

Jude had never even been within breathing distance of a woman like this, and my shameless baiting had him looking like he wanted the marble floor to crack open and swallow him alive.

He forced himself half a step closer. I could hear his breathing—shallow, jagged, completely defensive.

He was a brilliant political strategist, but he'd never stripped a woman before. His fingers were stiff, clumsy with the fabric.

He absolutely refused to meet my eyes, holding his hands at such an awkward, hovering angle, terrified of letting his knuckles graze my bare skin.

I let him suffer through half the buttons, savoring the blind panic radiating off him, before I finally waved him off and let my maids finish the job. "Come to bed," I commanded, pulling back the silk sheets. "Enough kneeling." Both Cole and Jude froze.

Come to bed? Where? The bed? It was night one. Surely I wasn't insane enough to drag both of them under the covers with me immediately.

All the color drained from Cole's face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?

You expect us to sleep with you?" He strained against the thick silk ties binding his wrists. "Have you lost your goddamn mind, Vesper?!

Valerian must have been cursed by the devil himself to fall for a nympho like you!" I let out a dry laugh. "Don't flatter yourself.

You don't have the clearance for the mattress." I tapped the toe of my slipper against the plush, woven rug right at the foot of my bed. "Here.

This is your spot." Like hell I was letting that rabid dog under my covers.

If I let him sleep next to me, I'd have to keep one eye open just to make sure he didn't try to snap my neck in the middle of the night.

Chapter 6 Cole's face drained to a color far worse than when he thought he had to share my mattress.

The humiliation of being forced to sleep on the rug, treated like a literal dog, was tearing him apart.

He completely lost his mind. "Vesper, you toxic bitch!" he yelled, straining against his bindings. "I'm your fiancé's cousin! You are completely out of line!

Just wait until Valerian gets back—" I sighed. Even at three years old, my insults had more bite than that pathetic display. I waved a dismissive hand. "Lock him in the basement.

No food, no water. Let me know when his vocabulary improves." My head of staff shoved a gag into Cole's mouth and had security drag him out of the room.

I shifted my gaze to Jude. "Bedtime?" Jude stayed silent for a long, agonizing moment.

Then, he walked over to the foot of the bed and knelt obediently on the plush rug. "Get some sleep, Vesper.

I'll keep watch." I reached out and squeezed his fingertips, a satisfied smile curving my lips. "Thank God for you.

I would have been so lonely tonight without a man in my room." [Host, I can keep you company!] the System chimed in, desperate. [Can we please just let the supporting male lead go and treat him properly?] 'You don't count as a person,' I replied.

I heard the distinct sound of a digital heart breaking all over again. I starved Cole out for three full days.

His muffled screaming from the basement eventually faded into dead silence. When he finally stopped fighting entirely, my head of staff came up to deliver the report.

I watched Jude in the vanity mirror. He stood behind me, his dark eyes lowered as he carefully brushed my hair.

Over the last three days, he had practically perfected his new routine as my livein eye candy. Well, except for the part where physical contact still made his skin crawl.

When he heard about Cole's condition, the brush in his hand stopped for a fraction of a second. "Do you want me to let him out?" I asked the mirror. "Of course," he murmured. "Kiss me," I said. "And I'll let him go." Jude froze.

The memory of yesterday hung heavily in the air—he had flinched away from my touch, earning himself an entire afternoon kneeling on the hardwood floor until his joints locked up.

He lifted his gaze, meeting my eyes in the reflection. "What's wrong?" I tilted my head. "Is your precious virtue worth more than your brother's life?" Jude took a sharp, jagged breath.

The knuckles gripping the hairbrush turned white. He had never done this before. I knew exactly what was running through his head. He was the pristine golden boy.

He had probably fantasized about his first kiss a thousand times, expecting it to be some romantic, equal exchange of affection. Not this. Not a forced, humiliating transaction.

This was a punishment, plain and simple. He wanted to play the highground martyr while serving as my kept man? Not a chance.

He needed to learn that every time he rejected my grace, he'd end up selling his dignity for a fraction of the price. Jude leaned down. His lips brushed against mine.

The contact was excruciatingly light, a terrified skim of heat. I could feel his eyelashes fluttering frantically against my cheek, his lips quivering with sheer panic.

He didn't dare go a millimeter further. Honestly, he probably had no idea how. I shoved him backward.

Jude stumbled, his hip slamming hard into the edge of the vanity to keep from hitting the floor.

I stood up, stepping right into his space and trapping him against the polished wood. "Did you really think that pathetic peck was enough to buy Cole's life?" Jude's dark eyes fractured with vulnerability. "Vesper…" "Not even close," I said.

Chapter 7 I closed the distance and claimed his mouth again. This time, I showed him exactly what a real kiss felt like. I didn't hold back.

I took complete control, driving him until his knees turned to water and a desperate, undeniable heat tore through his meticulously crafted composure.

He angled his head down, his resistance melting into a helpless, addictive surrender.

His hands gripped the edge of the vanity so hard his knuckles turned bonewhite, his jaw ticking as if fighting off a ghost he recognized in my practiced movements—Valerian.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shutting out whatever chaotic realization was tearing through him. Then, I shoved him away.

Jude stumbled back, his chest heaving, his dark eyes blown wide. I wiped my thumb across my lower lip. "You play the holy saint so well, but look at you.

Shaking like a leaf." I tilted my head. "If you're this starved for it, what was all that theatrical resistance last night?

Playing hard to get, or just faking the high road?" Jude stared at me, the hazy heat in his eyes instantly freezing over.

The flush rapidly drained from his face, leaving his skin cold and ashen. His throat worked a dry swallow, his long eyelashes trembling as my words slapped him awake.

The desperate affection he had just laid bare was completely trashed, and it showed in the violent flinch of his shoulders.

I took a step back and gave his cheek a condescending, mocking pat. "I'm going to rescue your boy. Clean yourself up." Jude just stood there, rigid as a corpse, totally silent.

The heavy basement door swung open. Cole was curled up on a pile of damp moving blankets in the corner. His arrogant, feral energy was completely obliterated.

Starvation was one thing, but extreme dehydration breaks a man. His eyes were completely unfocused, tracking shadows that weren't there.

I crouched down a few feet away. "Still breathing?" Even on death's door, a rabid dog still tries to bite.

Cole forced himself up, his limbs shaking violently as he dragged his back against the concrete wall. He shot me a venomous, bloodshot glare. "I'm alive.

Sorry to ruin your day, Vesper." His voice was a shredded, grating rasp. "Thirsty?" I asked. Cole's jaw tightened.

He clearly wanted to tell me to go to hell, but the mere mention of the word shortcircuited his brain. His Adam's apple bobbed in a painful, dry swallow.

The refusal died in his throat. I signaled my assistant, who brought over a clear crystal pitcher of ice water.

Cole's hollow eyes tracked the condensation dripping down the glass, completely locked on.

Still, his mouth ran on pure spite. "Since when are you… a saint?" I snapped my fingers, a bright smile crossing my face. "You know me so well.

I'm really not." I nodded at my assistant. She tipped the pitcher, dumping the ice water straight onto the dusty concrete floor.

Cole violently jerked forward, his hands twitching as if he wanted to catch it. He watched the clear puddle spread and seep into the dirt, leaving nothing but a dark stain.

He whipped his head up, absolute murder in his bloodshot eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I stood up, smoothing the skirt of my dress. "I generously bring you a drink, and you accuse me of having an ulterior motive.

I just had to prove you right. I hate making people into liars." I looked down at the puddle. "But I'm merciful. I left you an out.

Get on your hands and knees and lick it up." Cole stared at the wet concrete. It was already absorbed into the grit. Lick the dirt like a stray animal