10. Broken rules
978 Words
CARLOS
Rules aren’t meant to be broken.
But—
No matter how strict and cold you are, even if you have the blood of many men in your hands, you'd still cross those who would push you to the edge and break them.
It's maddening.
The rule was simple.
You can have all the fun you want. Explore kinks and do whatever sick things come to your mind as long as your partner agrees.
If they don't. You don't have the f*****g right.
But no.
This man kneeling before him had crossed the line. Again.
"Please, man. I swear, I didn't hear her say the f*****g safe words."
Lies. Lies. Lies.
They enrage him. They curl his soul in a sick kind of way, yet this man won't stop spilling them.
Many are like that.
The moment they get drawn into what they are seeking, they forget the rules and break them. Pushing further with no care for their partner getting hurt.
It's been twenty minutes since Carloss has been on this issue. The woman, the submissive, wasn't confessing the truth. But it was all clear in her red, hollowed eyes. She'd cried for a long time. Her lips were pale, her shoulders trembling and fists clenched at the sides as she fixed her gaze on the floor.
"Come closer, Sadie," Carlos ordered.
The woman hesitated. Her breath hitched as she fleetingly glanced at the dominant man before approaching.
Once she was in front of him, Carlos leaned over his desk, gaze sharp behind his glasses.
"Even if the dominant takes control, they are not exactly in control. You rule. And that is why this club is strict about that fact. As long as you said the safe words and he didn't stop, it means he broke the greatest law here," Carlos said, his voice gentle, but they took effect on the woman. "I can't help you if you don't confess. He'll keep coming for you, and he won't stop. Don't do what he wishes, because that, darling, will really break you."
"But if you tell me what really happened," he continued. "I will send this man down the pit of hell, and you will never see him again. The club will compensate you, and you'll go back to your normal life."
The man on his knees shifted uncomfortably.
Sadie clutched her dress close, her gaze slowly traveling over her shoulder.
"Look at me, Sadie," Carlos demanded, and her gaze flicked back to him. Firmly locked.
"Now tell me, he heard you, didn't he?"
For a short moment, she tried to keep her mouth sealed, but as the stare lasted longer, she finally broke into a sob. Her voice trembled as she finally spilled it out.
"He threatened me."
"How?" Carlos asked.
"He said he'll kill my brother who works in his company."
"Liar!" The man roared.
One of Carlos's guards' fists met with his face, splitting his lips and sending him down.
"Sorry about that, Sadie. I will compensate you for the damage," Carlos assured, and once the woman was led out, he reached for his eyeglasses.
"f**k! Not the glasses, man. Don't remove the glasses, I beg you—!"
Too late, Carlos already did. He reached for the silent gun in his drawer, rose, and approached.
"Please, man—Give me one last chance. I'll do anything! I'll give you everything. My wealth and all. For the love of God, don't shoot me!"
A gunshot echoed.
The man's scream hit the four walls as the bullet dove through his right thigh.
Carlos enjoyed the sight of blood gushing out of the man’s thigh.
“Worthless pigs like you don’t deserve another chance. I’ll have your d**k blown off as a reminder.”
“No, please—"
Just as Carlos set the gun again, the door opened, and his assistant stepped in.
"Oh. Sorry for intruding, boss," Michael apologized, his gaze sweeping the room briefly. "I just needed to inform you about something."
"What?"
"Kyla Harper."
Carlos lowered his gun, and his brows knitted at the name.
"She is here... in the club," Michael added, and it took a few seconds before Carlos digested that.
"Here?"
"Yeah. Sorry, man. My girl wanted to bring her cousin, and it turned out to be her."
Carlos recalled Kyla's words this morning, and his jaw ticked. He took his tablet, connected to the cameras of the club, and looked for her.
And there she was.
Clad in a black slick dress that clung to her like a second skin. In a sexy way that made his throat tight.
A man was speaking to her. As if it wasn't enough, the man rose with her, took her hand, and began to lead her upstairs...
The world turned pitch-black. An ache slowly crept into his head.
Why does she always… always find a way to rile him up?
"Michael... He is not wearing his glasses," the bleeding man on his knees whispered, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
"I guess you're f****d, man," Michael replied to him in a flat tone.
"Please, Mr. Redd... Just give me a second chance. My wife would freak out. I have children and..."
Carlos raised the gun, releasing another bullet that went straight to the man's forehead, ending his life right there.
Blood oozes out, wetting the slick dark ground.
No guilt.
The man was a bastard to the world and his wife as well. How dare he use a woman he treats like trash as a means to seek pity?
Carlos focused more on the screen, watching the man take Kyla into a lounge.
He stuck the room number in his head, dropped the tab, kept his gun at the back of his pocket, and began heading out.
"Take care of the body, Michael," he said. "I have to deal with something."
- Writer
