Destruction Read online

  “Oh, I’m here.”

  “Where the hell is my daughter?” He was shouting now, and it made David smile slowly.

  “You mean your sweet princess?” There was a series of curses on the other end of the line, a rush of muffled speech from Turner, the jackass giving him useless guidance.

  “I want proof of life.”

  “You want another video?” David taunted and chuckled when Mercier started shouting again.

  “Don’t you dare touch her again! You will release her immediately!”

  “That’s not how this is going to go, Mercier. You’re going to do some things for me. If you obey, she won’t suffer… much. But if you—”

  “I’m not doing a thing for you, asshole. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to—”

  “You won’t find me, and you won’t find your darling daughter either, no matter what your men are telling you. Not until you’ve followed every last demand I have.”

  “What do you want? Money? Out with it!” Mercier’s desperation started to leach back into his voice, and the satisfaction was almost equal to the way he’d felt holding Lianna down on the couch just before he’d fucked her in the man’s fancy penthouse.

  “I don’t want your money. I want everything. First things first though, you own three subsidiaries based out of Hong Kong, Seoul, and Mumbai. You’re going to sell them.”

  “Are you insane?” The fucker was shouting again.

  “Maybe,” David conceded before he continued, “but that should concern you since I’ve got a particularly beautiful young woman locked in a room just one door away. You have eight hours to sell them and return the documents as instructed. You’ll receive the offer packet by courier within the hour. Consider the five-hundred dollars restitution for what I’m doing to her.”

  “I’m not selling you my companies! I’m not doing anything for you! You will return Lianna and—”

  David laughed, cutting off the idiot’s tirade. “Now you have four hours to respond.”

  “Just tell me how much money you want!”

  “Two hours, and if you haven’t sold them by then we’ll see just what else your princess can take.”

  “This is not—”

  “Clock is ticking, Mercier.” With the press of a button, the call ended and he leaned back in the chair, swiveling side to side before double-checking the program that had bounced the signal through so many digital gateways on so many continents that they’d never find the real source. With a swipe, he navigated to the timer and started it.

  Two hours and he could have her again.

  Glancing at the screen, he knew he should feed her, keep her strength up — but he wasn’t sure he could go in the room and not take her. When he’d turned the lights off, her fear had been palpable, and through the black and white of the infrared he’d watched her panic as he had slowly turned each camera off. She had screamed so loud, begged so prettily, but he’d held off. Waited until her whispered pleas from the microphones were their own kind of music.

  Then, Mercier’s first timeline had expired while the man had been busy fucking around with his men instead of calling the number he’d provided.

  Not like David minded him missing the deadline.

  The tight grip of her throat had been glorious. The wet, choking sounds in the darkness better than he’d ever imagined. He’d wanted to chain her up, to take her again, and he would. There was an endless list of things he could do to the pretty blonde, a thousand ways he could shatter her — and if Mercier’s timeline ran out again he’d just have to decide what came next.

  Two hours passed by so quickly.

  David slammed his fist down on the desk, leaning forward to glare at the screen, grabbing the mouse in a grip hard enough to make the plastic creak. The timer had gone off over ten minutes ago, but he was still sitting in the chair watching his email and waiting for the confirmation that Mercier had sold the companies.

  Are you really going to test me you son of a bitch?

  With a growl, he grabbed the bottle of rum, tilting it up to take another harsh swallow. The fire burned its way into his belly, joining the cold rage that had been a constant companion for years, but not even the alcohol could calm him right now.

  The bastard had wasted another two hours, and ensured his daughter’s suffering in the process. Some part of him knew that he was a sick and twisted asshole to be excited by the ideas floating in his head, the possibilities of what he could do to the vulnerable woman in the other room. He just didn’t care enough to stop himself.

  Lianna Mercier was just as guilty as her fucking father. Still criminal. Both of them squatting in the top one-percent of wealth in this country, and her father had destroyed or bled everyone he’d ever met dry to make that true.

  And she worked for the bastard. Always at his side.

  He’d made himself king of a corporation, and she was his pretty little princess. The heir to his bloody kingdom. Mercier Systems was the key to destroying them both, destroying all of it… and it was clear Robert Mercier wasn’t giving it up without a fight.

  But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of this was how it was supposed to go.

  David growled and tapped the bottle against his forehead. Something was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be so delicate, so pretty when she cried, so sweet as she pleaded — no, she was supposed to be vicious and biting. Catty and cruel. Like every one of those rich bitches who filled the rooms of the city’s elite.

  And Robert Mercier was supposed to be falling all over himself to get her back.

  Setting the dark liquor back on the desk he flipped over to his tracking program, checking his work for the tenth time — but he hadn’t made a mistake. The papers hadn’t been signed, the courier had not been called to pick them up, and there was no call coming in on the cell phone.

  Mercier knew exactly what he was doing to her, to his only offspring, but he wasn’t responding.

  Was she not the key? Did the bastard even have a weakness?

  David growled and kicked the CPU under his desk as he pushed himself away from the set up. He was surrounded by evidence. Filing cabinets full of things that damned the asshole and verified that the blonde was the crux of whatever was left of Robert Mercier’s soul. She had been pampered since birth, protected, given everything the man was capable of providing. The best of the fucking best.

  “Spoiled little bitch.”

  Rage, a welcome old friend, purred in his chest. Erasing the visions of her biting down on her pretty pink lips, her blue eyes searching his for a mercy she wouldn’t find. She was Mercier’s heir, his pride and joy, and he was going to tear her down off her pedestal. He traced the edges of her naked body on the screen. “You’re not safe anymore, princess, and Daddy is about to see just how serious I am.”

  The idea formed in his mind like oil spilling into water. Corrupting and dark.

  No more hollow threats, no more countdowns, no more half-measures. Robert Mercier was going to fall in line or he was going to watch the pretty blonde break.

  It only took a few minutes before he was dressed, the stifling mask over his face, and all of the tools he would need gathered together. Leaning back over the computer, he sent an encrypted email through the server, turned on the routing program, and then took another long drink of the rum. Sweet and burning, all the way down.

  “Let’s see how long you hold out, bastard.” Spitting the words at the unresponsive screen, he left the room and walked a short way down the hall. He paused at the heavy door, taking a steadying breath so he could calm the hate rushing under his skin.

  Don’t kill her, just make her scream.

  Turning the key, he shoved the door open and watched her long limbs contract into an even smaller ball. Pale blue eyes widened as she lifted her head, and he couldn’t help but smile at the open fear on her face.

  “Seems like Daddy doesn’t want to save you, princess,” he cooed, keeping his voice low and quiet. With careful, measured
steps, he approached her. The way she shivered was beautiful, and he wondered if it was the chill or his presence that made her muscles quake like that. “I think something a little more direct will help, don’t you?”

  “No, no, wait. I’ll get him to do what you want. I’ll talk to him again, I swear. Just let me talk to him!” Her pleas were desperate as he paused beside her, staring down at the terrified form. It sent a thrill through his blood. That blonde hair like an actual fucking halo, as if she were some angel and not the spawn of the fucking devil.

  Still, even Lucifer had been an angel once, and her hair was like spun gold on her shoulders that he had an urge to push his hands through, to pull until her lips parted so he could—

  Stop. Fucking focus.

  David looked her over, letting his rage blow like a cold wind through his core, hollowing out the pieces of him questioning his plan. “That’s exactly what you’re going to do, princess. You’re going to get him to do what I want, but you’re not just going to talk to him, you’re going to scream for him.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lianna

  Lianna pulled her knees closer to her chest, tucked into the corner, but as he stood over her she knew nothing could protect her. It was just the two of them, and he wanted to make her scream. “I can get him to do whatever you want, you don’t need to hurt me.”

  “You’ll have your chance.” The man answered quietly as he walked toward the back wall.

  “Please, just let me go. He’ll do whatever it is. I swear.” A fruitless plea. A useless collection of consonants and vowels strung together to no effect as he looped the chain through a steel half-circle high on the wall. The grating sound of metal on metal made her whimper.

  “Come here.” He pointed at the floor, but she just stared at him, at his masked face and dark clothes, and stayed still. “Do you really want me to drag you?”

  Shaking her head, she tried to get her muscles to move, but she wasn’t able to obey. Everything told her to escape, and she finally gathered enough strength to move. Then she ran for the door. Her fingers brushed the handle, felt it turn, felt the heavy weight of the door shift towards her — and his arm came around her waist. A band of muscle that felt like steel as he lifted her off her feet, ripping the handle from her hands, tearing her away from freedom, and she screamed as loud as she could.

  “That’s right, princess. Scream for him.”

  All of her struggles were futile as he carried her back to the wall and slammed her against it, bruised ribs aching as her arms were forced upward. The man wrapped the chain tight around her wrists and then locked a padlock through the links. He tested them first with a jerk, but even when his hands moved away she still pulled, feeling the metal dig into her aching wrists as she tried to squeeze a hand through.

  “No!” she sobbed, feeling tears forming, and then he slipped something over her head. Glancing down, it looked like a pocket on cord, and she twisted to face him, confused and terrified. He tilted his head and pulled a phone from his pocket, a simple cell phone that still had all the number keys.

  “I’m going to call Daddy, and let you talk to him. Like I said.”

  Excitement feuded with terror, because she wanted to speak with her father, wanted to know he was coming to save her. To help her… but she knew it would come at a cost. “What do you want him to do?”

  “Simple. I want him to sign the paperwork I sent.”

  Lianna’s mind whirled, trying to understand what paperwork could be worth doing this. “What’s in the paperwork?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Does it matter? You just need to beg.” Holding down one of the numbers, he pressed another button, and she heard the speakerphone kick on as the ringing came out loud and clear. He tucked the phone into the pouch against her chest, and then stepped behind her.

  The door opened, closed, and the click of the phone connecting made her breath catch.

  “You son of a bitch, I want my—”

  “Dad?” she spoke, tears almost choking off the word, but her father’s voice softened instantly.

  “Lianna? Are you alright, princess?” Noises came out of the phone, rapid whispers, and then he came back. “Where are you? Who is he, do you know him?”

  “He took me from your place, I don’t know who he is or where I am, just please help me. Please, I don’t know what—”

  The man was back, the loud sound of the door opening and closing stopped the words in her throat, but her father filled the silence. “Lianna? Is he there? Let her go now!”

  Pain snapped across the backs of her thighs and for a moment her legs gave out, wrists straining against the bulging links of the chain, and she realized she’d screamed just like he wanted.

  “DO NOT HURT HER! Let her go immediately!”

  Another strike, and another, and she was crying, breaths too short, panicked, because there was nowhere to escape as she pressed herself forward against the wall. Unfortunately, it only seemed to amplify her father’s voice as the little pocket rested above her breasts.

  “You son of a bitch! You won’t get away with this, I’ll kill you!” Her father’s shouts held a rage she’d heard so few times in her life that it even made her quail, but the man behind her simply moved closer.

  Brushing her hair away from her neck, he spoke quietly, “The paperwork, princess. Beg him to sign or I keep hurting you.”

  “Dad, please—” Cut off by another strike of pain across her ass, she whimpered, trying to coalesce her thoughts into language. “Sign the paperwork! Please!”

  “I can’t just sign this! You have to listen to me, the board won’t approve it!”

  The board?

  Agony took away her thoughts again as the next strike landed across her shoulders, followed quickly by another. It was the belt again, the fierce snap of it — she knew it was the belt, and he wasn’t going to stop. “DADDY PLEASE!”

  “Princess, you know this is complicated. What he’s asking I can’t just do. Selling a company takes time.” Robert Mercier’s trademark calm and collected voice came through the phone just as another lash landed and she screamed in pain. “Lianna, listen, it takes time. I’m trying.”

  Trying?

  Belt. Pain. Scream.

  “Please sign, please…” She was sobbing so hard it was difficult to push the words out, but she could hear her father whispering, the speaker end of the phone angled towards her face so that she was forced to listen to him debating with someone in hushed tones.

  Another strike, and then another. Always in a new place, a new agony, and her sobs were making her choke as she strained to keep herself upright. Reaching for the chain with one hand she held on, trying to ease it, but nothing stalled the torture.

  The man pressed against her back, cock hard in his pants as he spoke quietly, “Get him to sign, or I won’t stop.”

  Sniffling, she drew in breath and nodded as she babbled, “Just sign what he sent you! Just sign it so he’ll stop, Dad, please, please…”

  A harsh sound came through the phone. “Selling a company takes time, Lianna. You know this!”

  Torment coursed through her nerves as a flurry of strikes landed on her ass, over and over, until she was keening in a high-pitched whine as the pain became too much. Legs giving out, wrists straining and threatening to snap against the unforgiving steel of the chain. “Please, please, Dad! I’m begging you, sign, please!”

  The phone was dead, not even the scratch of empty air coming over the line, and after one more debilitating strike across already aching skin, the man came forward. Plucking the phone from the pouch, he growled and walked away.

  A moment later she heard the door open and shut, and she leaned forward against the wall, sobbing.

  Why hadn’t he agreed? Why hadn’t he signed?

  Why wasn’t her father saving her?

  Chapter Nine

  David

  David fumed, breathing hard as he stared down at the phone with equal parts rage and shock. Had the cal
l dropped? Had the man hung up on his screaming daughter?

  Stomping away from the door he entered the other room and threw the belt against the wall so he could settle in front of the computer. Just as he woke it up, the phone rang again, but he let it ring as he waited for the program to scatter the signal once more.

  Picking up the headset, he answered, “Technical difficulties?”

  “I won’t listen to you torture her.”

  “Sign the documents or I start it again, and this time I’ll send you a new video.” David took comfort in knowing his voice was distorted, but he hoped his rage was coming through regardless.

  “Look, I can sell one of them, the one in Mumbai, but I need more time for the others. Two hours wasn’t enough for this! You’re asking the impossible.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I can stop all activity at our Mumbai location right now, but I’m still working on approval for Seoul and Hong Kong.” Mercier had his cold, corporate voice on, not even a shred of the concern he’d shown over the phone when the girl first started screaming.

  “You have four hours then. Two hours per location. If the paperwork isn’t signed in four hours, you’ll get another video.”

  “Release her now. You’ll get your companies.”

  David laughed, smiling as he leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “You think you’re in charge? Just sign the paperwork or I make her bleed. I’ll rip your princess to pieces and make you watch.”

  “You—”

  Ending the call he stood up and ripped the headset off, not wanting another word of Mercier’s excuses and lies. The girl was hanging by her wrists.

  Pushing his rage away he stomped back to the other room, ripping the door open to see her jolt, pressing her lithe, striped body against the wall. She was exquisite, beautiful. All feminine curves, marked by his hand, and his cock jerked in his pants.

  You promised four more hours.

  Clenching his jaw he moved forward, plucking the key for the padlock from his back pocket he tried his best not to touch her skin as he unlocked it. As soon as he loosed it from the chain, she collapsed, and on instinct he caught her by the arm. Easing her to the floor, he met her pretty blue eyes as she looked up at him. Tear soaked and terrified.