Page 135 of Cruel Delights
He offers me his arm that I don’t hesitate to take. I’ll have to play along… at least until he’s open enough to listen to reason.
I can explain everything. I can talk him out of whatever cruel punishment he has planned next.
Or so I tell myself.
We leave his bedroom. I throw a glance over my shoulder, checking that the door next to the laundry room is shut. Has he been down there?
I was so sure it’s where he would take me…
The area of his penthouse he punished me for even going near in the past—at the time he claimed it was the laundry room I shouldn’t have ventured into, and I was distracted by the discovery of his bloody shirt in the hamper, but I now know that was a lie. He was trying to keep me from that room.
A shiver of fear courses through me thinking about it.
Kaden leads me to his Tesla in the underground garage, ensuring I’m buckled in before he gets behind the wheel himself.
“Where are we going?”
He aims a slight grin at me. “You’ll see. You’ll get to do what you’ve always wanted, little lamb. Play for a special audience on the stage you love.”
* * *
The Easton Opera House stands out among the other large buildings on the city street. Moonlight catches in the glass dome, and though in the night it looks dark, there’s still a gleam too.
Kaden parks out front and escorts me up the long, cascading steps on his arm. I half protest and point out he’s parked once again in a no parking zone.
“My security will handle it.”
That’s when I notice he’s right—a personal valet rushes down to collect his luxury car and move it somewhere more appropriate. Another stands by the house doors and welcomes us inside.
No other attendees are around. We’re the only ones.
I glance at him. “Did you rent out the opera house?”
“It’s for our use tonight, little lamb,” he says mysteriously. “My security are merely here to assist. Don’t for one second think they’ll help you if you appeal to them. They are on my payroll, and they take orders from me only. No pleading from you—or anyone else—will convince them otherwise.”
I have no clue what the hell he’s talking about as he leads me through the marble atrium. I’m sure whatever he has planned will involve me seated at a piano.
But that can’t be the end of it. There has to be some twist he’ll reveal.
My stomach pits at the thought. I consider pleading with him before I drop the idea. He’s still too pissed, too hell bent on making sure I’ve been punished.
The playroom wasn’t enough. Something tells me this is therealpunishment.
We enter the Grande Stadio to silence and then the added thud of our footsteps. He walks us all the way toward the stage. I survey the hundreds of seats and find them empty.
…until we’re closing in on the pit and I realize someone else is here. Someone other than his staff.
Seated in the very front row, gagged and strapped to the chair, is none other than a bloodied and bruised Grady.
My heart drops at the sight, though I don’t make an attempt to go to him. I’m clutching onto Kaden’s arm, and it’d be pointless. It’d only piss him off even more.
But he notices my shock anyway and takes pleasure in it.
“Yes, little lamb,” he says flippantly. “I’ve invited your junkie loser ex to join us. He’s beendyingto see you.”
Grady screams something from behind his gag. He thrashes in his seat, twisting and turning in desperation to free himself. All he’s really doing is using up his energy. He chokes out a labored breath and then yells something else.
Hatred and anger are in his glassy, bloodshot eyes.