Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

INITIATION

Commitment

Junior year at Barrington University

Ilook down at my Patek Philippe watch. We’ve been on this yacht for four hours. The four of us must work together on this initiation. We each received a card with a name on it, and Saint just finished his. I wanted to get in and out. Obviously, it’s going to take all night.

“Clean up,” I say, looking over all the blood out on the balcony, and I drop my backpack from my shoulder. “On to the next.”

We just helped Saint kill the guy he was assigned to. It got messy. But we were able to take care of him after the poker game, and I ended up taking the dealer out as well. We can’t leave any witnesses behind.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“How do you feel, Kash?” Adam asks, rubbing his back. “Doing okay?”

Kashton nods, pushing him away. “The gum the lady gave me helped.”

He was feeling seasick earlier. If he hasn’t vomited by now, I’d say he’ll be fine.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to use the restroom,” I tell them.

“Okay. We’ll text you when we’re done here.”

Taking the elevator down, I search for a bathroom. This megayacht is around a hundred meters—three hundred feet—long, so I know I have options. I just have to find one.

I step off, finding myself on the main deck. We’re out on the Atlantic, and the lights from the yacht illuminate the night.

The partiers have no clue two guys were just killed and thrown overboard. And by the time we’re done at least three more will be at the bottom as well. Along with the Lord who owns it.

He’s my initiation. Like the other men who will find their new home at the bottom of the ocean tonight, he fucked up. He took his oath for granted and got greedy. Now, he has to pay the price—his life.

I watch everyone carrying on with mindless conversations about their money market accounts and most recent investments, trying to appear interested in anyone other than themselves. They all scratch each other’s backs while fucking each other’s wives.

Laughter catches my attention to my right, and I turn to see a woman standing with a couple of others. She wears a white dress. The innocent color makes her skin appear kissed by the sun. It comes up high around her delicate neck and falls to the floor. The slit up the side shows off her lean right leg and a pair of red high heels that wrap and buckle around her ankle.

It’s not revealing, but the way it fits her small body shows off the curve of her spine and round ass. Her dark brown hair is up and off her shoulders, showing me a side view of her pretty doll-like face. She hasn’t looked my way, so I don’t know what color her eyes are, but it doesn’t matter. She’s stunning. Ever looked at someone and just knew they were too good for you? I don’t mean that out-of-your-league shit. I’m talking out of this universe. My brothers and I will be very wealthy and set for life—and so will our children and grandchildren. But even money can’t buy you love in our world. I can tell by her demeanor that she’s a princess who will live in some high-rise in New York, and I’ll be the monster who will live in the basement of a prison no one knows exists. We’re not the same.

Throwing her head back, she laughs before taking a sip of her champagne.

My cock is so fucking hard. I’ve gone three years without sex, and I’m going insane. My hands itch to tangle in her perfect hair, bend her over, and rip the fabric as I fuck her in front of everyone.

That’s what we’re taught to do—take what we want in front of others. It’s to prove ourselves. To show we have power. But do we? Not really.

The Lords allow us to have control in certain areas, but for the most part, we don’t. It’s like giving a dog a little extra length to their leash. You can go a few more feet, but you’re still chained in the same yard. And hungry dogs are never loyal.

That’s why they have us—Lords going through initiation—take out the ones who have chewed through them and managed to get away.

A man catches my attention as he walks up to them. He gives the redhead a hug and then kisses the brunette I’ve been watching on the cheek before he makes his way through the crowd. I follow him with my eyes, watching him talk to a few men here and there before he disappears inside.

I look back at the brunette to see she’s no longer where she was. Quickly scanning the deck, I don’t see her in the crowd. She most likely went to get another glass of champagne.

Turning, I follow the man and make sure to keep my distance as I watch him shake a few more hands and stop to talk to a few more Lords. Everyone on this megayacht is the best of the best at what they do. The ones at the top.

The one-percenters who own the companies and allow you to survive on a day-to-day basis. Now, they’re not looking out for you. They’re definitely in it for the money. But if you die, they’ll be out of business. So they’re going to do the bare minimum to keep you satisfied.

We pull farther away from the crowd, making our way up a set of stairs. He pushes a door open, and I take a quick look to make sure no one sees me following him. I pull my cell from my pocket and send a text to the group chat before returning it.

Then I turn to open the door and step inside. He stands over at the sliding glass door that leads out to his balcony overlooking the dark water. We’re close enough to shore that you can see the lights from the land across the way.

I undo the button on my suit jacket and pull it open, wrapping my hand around the handle of the gun.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” he speaks.

And since I’m the only one in his office with him, I guess I did a shitty job at trying to go unnoticed. The brunette had me off my game. I normally don’t let pussy get in the way. But it’s been so long, and she isn’t the type of woman anyone can ignore. She’s what a man dreams of—dress her up and show her off to your friends, make them jealous of what you have. And then take her home, tie her down, and make her your dirty little whore. Show her what it’s like to be owned.

Pushing those thoughts from my head, I remove the gun and hold it down by my side.

He turns and picks up a glass and fills it with bourbon. “Like a drink?” he asks.

“No thanks,” I answer.

He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip before his blue eyes drop to the gun in my hand, resting against the side of my thigh. Setting the bourbon down, he gives me his back, turning to look out the windows once again. “We’re all on borrowed time.”

He knows I’m here to kill him. I’m not surprised. A Lord is always aware when he’s fucked up—gone too far—and his time is over.

“Yeah.” I indulge him in small talk. I feel my phone vibrate knowing it’s the guys responding to my previous text. I told them I was handling mine on my own. They’re probably searching for me as I stand in this room.

The man picks his drink back up, taking a sip, and smirks as I watch his reflection in the sliding glass door. Turning to face me once again, he throws back the rest of the drink before setting the glass down on the round table. Holding out both of his hands, he speaks. “Take care of her.”

Stepping into him, I lift the gun, point it at his chest, and say, “We’re going to burn it.” And then I pull the trigger.