Bought by My stepbrother, the don

Chapter 28: Digging for Truth?

Nico’s POV

The truth was that I didn’t understand why I kept holding back. According to the contract, I could kiss her as many times as I wanted—which would be more than enough to turn her on and get what I desired.

Still, it was fun watching her squirm. Watching her deny that she felt anything toward me. I could wait a bit longer, which was exactly what I did as I sat there, composed, without reaching for her.

It didn’t take too long for us to reach our destination, which was closer to the warehouse district—the more depreciated part of town. The streetlights were fewer here, some flickering, some completely dead. There were more alleys, more shadows, and beggars lingering in corners, their eyes dull but observant. It was also the part of town that wasn’t too heavily protected by the police... which made it useful.

The car rolled to a smooth stop right by the side of the property I owned, its metal gates looming tall and uninviting. I got out, the cool night air brushing against my face, then turned to help Carmen step out, noting how she easily reached for my hand without pause—something she herself wasn’t aware of.

Wasting time was the last thing I wanted to do. I gave a short nod, beckoning to the bodyguards to lead the way, checking the guns attached to the shoulder holster I wore beneath my jacket as we moved through the gates and toward the warehouse.

"A gun would be nice," Carmen muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for me to hear.

I could have responded, but I chose not to. She knew there was absolutely no way I would ever give her a gun.

So instead, I hastened my steps until we got to the particular warehouse where I had instructed the woman to be kept. The large metal doors creaked faintly as we entered. The building was empty and well-lit, harsh white lights hanging overhead, casting sharp shadows as I headed inside and toward an inner door that led downstairs—one that required a code only I and a select few knew.

Silently, we moved, the sound of our footsteps echoing as we descended the narrow concrete stairs leading to the basement. I could already hear the heavy, muffled sounds from below.

By the time we reached the bottom, it was just Carmen and me. I had instructed the other guards to remain upstairs and secure the front.

It didn’t surprise me to see a couple of guards seated near the stairs, one of them dozing off. They scrambled to their feet the moment they saw us.

"Boss," they said hurriedly, bowing their heads as I walked past them.

My focus was already on the prisoner in the middle of the room.

She was tied to a chair, her posture stiff. She wore a dress that was still clean, barely rumpled—evidence that she hadn’t been handled yet. A thick bag covered her head, and she sat unnaturally still, as if bracing herself.

I knew she could hear us. She was most likely on high alert now that new footsteps had joined the room.

Carmen moved slightly ahead of me, drifting to the side, which I immediately registered as a bad idea. If the prisoner had somehow freed her hands, Carmen would be the first one within reach.

"She looks smaller than I thought," she whispered.

I sighed softly and gestured to one of the guards. "Get me the box. The red one. Top shelf."

The basement was small but reinforced, the air cool and controlled by the ventilation system I had installed when it was built. Small windows lined the upper wall, but they were sealed shut.

Stepping forward, I reached out and pulled the bag off the prisoner’s head.

Her face was... pretty.

Unfortunate. It would have been easier if it wasn’t. frёewebnoѵēl.com

Her eyes were wild, darting between me and Carmen. Though she tried to mask it, the fear was there—raw and undeniable.

I offered her a small smile, one meant to unsettle more than reassure.

Her feet jerked back slightly when the guard approached and handed me the box. I took it, setting it down and snapping it open. Inside were neatly arranged surgical instruments—gloves, scalpels, blades, even a compact hand saw—each one polished, precise.

Her lashes trembled as she took in a sharp breath.

I dragged a stool closer and sat down in front of her, unhurried, rolling up my sleeves one after the other. It was bound to get bloody—but I wasn’t a messy man.

My gaze settled on her face as I considered what would be the most jarring thing for her to lose.

Not fingernails. Not yet.

After a brief silence—one filled only by the sound of her uneven breathing—I reached out and touched her left ear. She jerked violently against her restraints.

Without hesitation, I picked up a blade and brought it to the side of her face, angling it for a clean cut—

"...You’re not going to ask her any questions first?" Carmen’s voice cut in.

Even as she spoke, I sliced down.

The scream that tore from the prisoner’s throat was sharp and raw, muffled only by the cloth stuffed into her mouth. Blood followed in a clean line, just as intended.

I didn’t flinch.

Gripping her head, I turned it slightly and reached for her other ear.

"...Why should I?" I replied calmly. "I already confirmed she was the one who planted the bomb."

I slashed again.

She bit down hard enough to split her own lips, blood mixing as she tried—and failed—to contain her screams.

"She knew what she was doing when she intended to kill us. And she would have. Instead..." I continued, my tone steady, almost conversational, "...she killed my men."

My eyes moved over her again, calculating, deciding where next.

She would talk. She would confess everything—even the things I already knew.

But first, she would beg.

I considered taking an eye, then paused, glancing briefly at Carmen. There was no sign of squeamishness on her face.

Good.

Still, that could change. fгeewebnovёl.com

I reached into the box again and pulled out a hammer, the metal head catching the overhead light. At the same time, I removed the gag from her mouth.

Tears streamed freely down her face now.

"Kill me! Just fucking kill me!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "We both know you’re not going to let me live!"

"I’m not telling you anything!" she added, louder this time, spittle flying.

I exhaled softly, mildly annoyed, before sitting back down, the hammer resting loosely in my hand, a faint smile forming on my lips.

"That’s the thing," I said quietly. "I don’t intend to kill you."

I tilted my head slightly, studying her.

"If I did, I wouldn’t have started with your ears—a place you can easily hide with your hair."

A pause.

"I would have started with your ten fingers instead."