**Trigger Warning: Contains graphic violence, abuse, and explicit non-consensual content**
“No. You’ll deliver by dawn.”
The man on the other end said something. Lucien’s lip curled.
“I don’t give a f**k about your excuses. If the shipment isn’t here when the sun rises, I’ll cut out your second-born’s tongue and box it in velvet. His spine comes next.”
There was no reply. Only breathing. The pathetic, shallow kind that always came before surrender.
“Good,” Lucien said, and ended the call.
He didn’t move. He didn’t have to.
Outside, the wind rattled against the towering windows as he took his phone from the drawer to place a call to Evan’s concerning something really important.
And then came the knock.
Three knocks.
Not hurried. Not uncertain. Not polite.
Three hard, deliberate
