The Lovenemy Story of Silla and Rudy (Part 2)

[Continue From Part 1]

Rudy POV

My hands were shaking. I could barely think through the pain, my head pounding, my whole body stiff and tense. I didn’t care about anything anymore, just that this needed to stop. “S-Silla,” I stammered, barely able to keep my voice steady. “Just… get it out, okay? Let me go.”

She looked down at me, her eyes cold, and for a second, I thought she’d refuse. But then she let out a sigh, shaking her head with that same smug, infuriating smile. “Pathetic,” she muttered, leaning down to carefully undo the zipper, freeing me with a little flick of her wrist. “Can’t even manage your own damn pants, and you call yourself a prince.”

When she stepped back, I felt a rush of relief, but it was drowned out by something darker. Anger. Humiliation. It burned through me, hot and sharp, and I could feel my vision blur, tears pricking at the edges of my eyes. I tried to swallow it down, tried to push it away, but it was too much. She’d made me feel small, weak, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped.

Before I even realized what I was doing, my fist shot out, connecting with her cheek. She staggered back, her head snapping to the side, and I felt a sick, twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of her stumbling. “I’m done,” I hissed, my voice shaking with rage. “I’ve had enough of your shit, you hear me? You don’t get to humiliate me like this.”

I was breathing hard, my fists clenched so tight I could feel my nails digging into my palms, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted to hurt her, to make her feel as weak as she’d made me feel. She’d pushed me too far, and now I just wanted to show her who I was, what I was capable of. I wasn’t just some guy she could mess with—I was Rudy Maybank, the prince of The Wolves, and I was going to make her remember that.

But as I stood there, shaking, I caught a glimpse of her face, and it almost made me want to scream. She was calm, her expression unreadable, like she hadn’t just taken a punch to the face. She touched her cheek, rubbing it slowly, and when she looked up at me, there wasn’t fear or anger in her eyes—just this cold, steady calm that sent a chill down my spine.

“Feel better now?” she asked, her voice low, mocking.

I wanted to scream at her, to hit her again, but I couldn’t find the words. I was humiliated, trembling with this horrible, burning rage, and I felt like a damn child. She’d made me feel like I wasn’t even in control of myself, and I hated her for it. I wanted to hurt her, but I also wanted to make her afraid of me, to see her lose that calm, collected front. I wanted her to realize who she was dealing with.

So I lunged at her, forgetting everything else—forgetting the button, the cuffs, all of it. I just wanted to wipe that smug look off her face. I swung again, aiming for her jaw, but she was faster than I expected. She ducked, and before I could react, she twisted around, grabbing my wrist and using my momentum against me.

The world spun, and suddenly I was the one stumbling, trying to keep my balance. But I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. I swung again, wild and desperate, but she sidestepped, her movements fluid, almost graceful, and drove her elbow hard into my side. Pain shot through my ribs, knocking the wind out of me, but I gritted my teeth and kept going. I wasn’t going to back down, not now.

I tried to grab her, to lock her in a hold, but she slipped out of my grasp like water, her movements quick and precise. She ducked low, sweeping her leg out to trip me up, and I barely managed to catch myself before I fell. My head was spinning, my vision blurred, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop.

I lashed out again, my fist catching her shoulder, but it wasn’t a clean hit. She moved with the blow, twisting around and slamming her knee up into my gut. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, and I doubled over, gasping, but she didn’t give me a chance to recover. She grabbed me by the back of my neck, her grip tight, and drove her knee into my stomach again, making me choke on a strangled cry.

“Is that all you’ve got, prince?” she taunted, shoving me back. I stumbled, barely managing to stay on my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I was stronger than her, bigger than her, but none of that seemed to matter. She was always one step ahead, and every time I thought I had her, she slipped away, like she was playing some kind of sick game.

I growled, charging at her, trying to tackle her to the ground, but she sidestepped again, grabbing my arm and twisting it behind my back. The pain flared up, sharp and hot, and I bit down hard, trying not to cry out. She twisted harder, forcing me down to one knee, and I could feel her breath against my ear, cold and taunting.

“What’s wrong, Rudy?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mock concern. “I thought you wanted to show me how tough you are.”

I could feel the humiliation boiling inside me, threatening to choke me, but I couldn’t stop fighting, couldn’t let her win. I threw my weight back, trying to throw her off balance, and managed to twist free of her grip. I swung at her, catching her across the cheek, and she staggered, but she recovered fast, spitting out a bit of blood and grinning like she was enjoying every second of this.

“Oh, is that it?” she said, her voice breathless, but there was a wild, almost playful glint in her eyes. “Come on, prince. I thought you were supposed to be the big, bad leader.”

I charged at her again, swinging wildly, but she blocked my punch, stepping in close and driving her fist into my side. I gasped, doubling over, but she didn’t stop. She grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, forcing me to look at her, and I could see the cold, steady fire burning in her eyes.

“You’re pathetic,” she hissed, her voice low, almost tender. “And I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

I tried to pull away, to shove her off, but she didn’t let go. Her grip was like iron, and no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t break free. I was losing, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the last bit of fight out of me. I was losing, and she was winning, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

 

Silla POV

I couldn’t help but smile as I stood there, watching Rudy struggle to catch his breath, his face twisted in pain and frustration. He’d been swinging at me, all desperate and wild, thinking he could show me who’s in control, but he’d forgotten one very important thing: I always knew how to bring a man to his knees. And it was about time I reminded him.

Without warning, I brought my knee up and slammed my boot into his groin, hard. I felt the impact reverberate through my leg, heard the dull, sickening thud, and then I saw it—the way his whole body just collapsed. It was like watching a tree fall, slow and inevitable, and then there he was, crumpled on the ground, clutching himself, gasping, his face contorted in agony.

For a moment, I just stood there, taking it all in. His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open, but no sound came out. He was too stunned, too overwhelmed by the pain to even scream, and that made it even better. Because I knew, I knew exactly how much it hurt, and it was nothing compared to what men had put me through.

I laughed, a loud, sharp, almost manic sound that echoed in the empty night. I couldn’t stop myself, the thrill of it washing over me, making me giddy. “That’s not even one percent of the pain men have given me,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence, cold and mocking. I reached down, grabbing a fistful of his blonde hair, and yanked his head up so he had to look at me. I wanted to see it all—the pain, the fear, the humiliation.

He had tears in his eyes, actual tears, and that almost made me laugh even harder. I mean, the big, bad prince of The Wolves, reduced to this sniveling mess, his cheeks wet, his lips trembling. “Please… not again,” he whimpered, his voice barely a whisper, shaky and broken. He looked up at me, and I could see it—the desperation, the way he was begging me, like he thought that would make me stop.

“Sorry, I can’t empathize with that pain,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t have those stupid organs.” I grinned, wide and wild, and then burst into laughter, loud and uncontrollable, like I was losing my mind. Because really, the irony of it all was just delicious. Men, always thinking they were strong, untouchable, but all it took was a single kick to bring them down.

But then I saw his face, really looked at it, and something shifted. There was this helplessness there, this raw, unfiltered vulnerability, and for a second, it made my chest tighten. I didn’t want to feel anything for him, didn’t want to see him as anything other than the enemy, but… he looked so lost. Like a little boy who didn’t understand why the world was so cruel.

I leaned down, still holding his hair, and for a moment, I hesitated. Then I kissed his forehead, soft and almost gentle, like I was trying to soothe him after everything I’d just put him through. “Let’s go get information about my friends,” I murmured, my lips brushing against his skin. I felt him shiver, and I pulled back, still smiling, but there was a different kind of edge to it now. “Come on, Rudy. I’m not done with you yet.”

I watched him as he struggled to stand, his movements slow and unsteady, like he was afraid I’d kick him again if he moved too fast. Good. Let him be afraid. Let him remember that feeling every time he tried to act like he was in control. I grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back towards the car, and he didn’t resist.

As I slid back into the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help but glance at him, slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes red, his breathing ragged. “Poor Rudeth,” I said, starting the engine, my tone light and almost sing-song. “Thank the goddess I don’t have those organs.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared out the window, still clutching his groin like he was afraid the pain might come back. And I just smiled, because I knew this was far from over. We were going to get the information I needed, and I was going to keep him right there, at my mercy, until I had everything I wanted.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d learn what it felt like to be powerless, to be vulnerable, to have everything he thought he knew about himself stripped away. Because that’s what men like him needed to understand—how fragile they really were. And I was more than happy to be the one to teach him.

 

Rudy POV

I sat there in the car, trying to keep my face straight, but every time I thought back to what had just happened, my stomach twisted with a mix of anger and humiliation. Silla had put me through hell, and I still felt that dull, throbbing ache between my legs, a constant reminder of how she’d brought me down. It pissed me off more than anything. I wanted to lash out, to tell her she was a piece of shit, but I kept my mouth shut, just frowning at the window.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn towards me. She reached out, her fingers grazing my cheek, light and playful, and I flinched, not sure what she was going to do next. She grinned, that same infuriating, taunting smile. “Oh, don’t look so sour, Rudy,” she said, her voice light, almost teasing. “I apologize if it hurt, but you and your men started it first, didn’t you?”

I clenched my jaw, biting back a retort. I hated how she acted like this was all some kind of game, like she was having fun while I was sitting here trying not to lose my mind. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because the outpost was coming up, and I had to get my head straight. This was the moment where I had to take control back, even if just for a little while.

As we pulled up, the familiar, dingy outpost came into view—a squat, concrete building with a few trucks parked outside, and the kind of cheap security cameras that wouldn’t stop anyone determined from causing trouble. This wasn’t one of our main spots, just a little off-the-radar hideout where guys could come and go without too many questions. I saw a couple of guards milling around, looking bored, but they straightened up the second they noticed the car.

Silla killed the engine, glancing over at me. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, her voice suddenly serious.

I nodded, my hand already on the door handle, but she leaned in close, just enough for her voice to drop into that low, warning tone. “And Rudy,” she added, her eyes locking onto mine, “don’t do something stupid. I’m still the one holding all the cards here.”

I swallowed, hating how she had to remind me, but I forced a nod. “I get it,” I said. “Here’s how we’re gonna play it. I’ll go in first, and you’ll pose as my girlfriend. Act like you belong, and they won’t ask any questions.”

Silla raised an eyebrow, giving me this little smirk. “Girlfriend, huh? How romantic.” She was mocking me, but I ignored it. I just needed her to follow along without making this more complicated.

“Hand me my jacket,” I said, my voice clipped, needing that small piece of armor back. She dug it out from the back seat and tossed it to me, and I slipped it on, feeling a bit more like myself.

As I adjusted the collar, she looked at me, her expression softening for a moment. “By the way, that punch of yours… it was good. My cheek still stings.” She opened her purse, pulling out a small compact mirror, and I watched as she dabbed makeup on the spot where I’d hit her. “Had to cover it up. Can’t have your ‘girlfriend’ walking in with a bruise on her face, right?”

I felt a weird, twisted sense of satisfaction at that, but it didn’t last. “I’m the strongest in The Wolves,” I said, more to convince myself than her.

Silla stopped applying the makeup, turning her head just enough to give me this curious, almost pitying look. “Are you, though?” she asked, tilting her head. “Or do the other guys just hold back because they don’t want to piss off the prince? Do they actually respect you, or are they just scared of your daddy?”

Her words hit harder than any punch. I’d never thought about it like that, but as soon as she said it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way everyone acted around me, the way they bowed and scraped, but never got too close, never said anything that might piss me off. I’d always taken it as a sign of respect, but maybe… maybe they were just scared. Maybe they weren’t being honest with me at all.

Silla was the first person who didn’t give a damn about any of that, who pushed back, who put me in my place. And I hated her for it, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny that she was different. She wasn’t like anyone else I’d dealt with, and that scared the hell out of me, because it made me feel… vulnerable.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I muttered, pulling myself together, forcing my usual smirk onto my face. “Follow my lead.”

We got out of the car, and as we approached the entrance, the two guards straightened up, their eyes flicking to me before quickly looking away. They nodded, a gesture of respect—or maybe just fear. Either way, it was enough to remind me who I was.

I squared my shoulders, giving them a quick, confident nod. “Where’s Taz?” I asked, not bothering to hide the authority in my voice. They hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other, and then one of them jerked his thumb towards the back entrance, lowering his head slightly.

“He’s inside, boss,” he said, bowing his head just a bit. “Want us to get him for you?”

I shook my head. “No need. I’ll find him myself.”

I could feel Silla’s eyes on me, studying me, and it made my skin prickle. I didn’t look at her, didn’t want to see that knowing, taunting smile on her lips. But as we stepped past the guards, I couldn’t shake the feeling that, for once, I wasn’t walking in there with all the power. And that realization was almost worse than the pain she’d put me through.

 

Silla POV

We stepped into the main room, the dull, yellow lights casting a harsh glow over the grimy walls. The place smelled like sweat, smoke, and cheap beer—like every other low-level outpost the Wolves ran. I glanced over at Rudy, his shoulders squared, trying to project that same confident, untouchable aura he always did, but I could see through it. I could see how tense he was, how he was barely holding it together.

“Hey,” I said, my voice light, almost playful. “Your hair’s a bit messy. Let me fix it.” I flashed him a sweet smile, and he bent down, letting me reach up.

There it was again—our height difference. More than a foot, and it made me want to laugh every time. How a five-foot girl could have this big, powerful guy—this prince of The Wolves—bending to her whim. I reached up, smoothing his hair, but then he looked up, and suddenly, his face was so close to mine.

The laughter caught in my throat. I could feel this strange, electric tension, like a current humming between us. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, I forgot where we were, forgot everything. I was just staring into his eyes—those piercing blue eyes that made him look like some perfect specimen of a man. Our lips were so close, barely an inch apart, and I could feel his breath against my mouth. We were right there, almost touching, when—

“Boss…”

I snapped back, my head jerking up to see Taz standing there, his face twisted in shock. He looked like he’d just walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to see, and for a moment, I thought I saw the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Rudy pulled away, straightening up fast, but he didn’t lose his cool. “Apologies, sir, for interrupting your… private time with the miss,” Taz said, his voice a mix of respect and curiosity. He was tall, almost seven feet, with that rigid, military-style haircut that made him look like he was fresh out of boot camp. He looked at me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You always pick the perfect women, huh?”

Rudy smiled, slipping easily back into his role, acting like everything was normal. He moved closer to Taz, keeping his tone casual, smooth. I could feel his hand brush against mine, almost like a warning. “Don’t try something stupid,” I whispered, leaning in just enough so only he could hear.

Rudy cleared his throat and said, “I’m here to check the catalog of the girls. Need to make sure the next batch is up to standard. Search the one that we take from the southern port, the blond long hair one” He was playing the part well, slipping into that role of the son of the big boss, the one who had the authority to ask these questions.

Taz nodded, gesturing for his right-hand man, Joshua, to step forward. Joshua was a wiry guy with shifty eyes, the kind who looked like he could smell trouble before it even got close. He brought out a tablet, tapping away at the screen, and then read off the information. “Girls are set to be moved in the next batch, two days from now, to the main hub in Testiville,” he said. “But, uh, I might have taken a little fun with that one you’re asking about, boss.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Fun? I could feel my blood boiling, my vision blurring with rage. I wanted to tear his throat out. My body tensed, and before I could stop myself, I stepped forward, fists clenched so tight I could feel my nails digging into my palms. “You fucking did what to her?” I snarled, moving closer to Taz, my voice low and dangerous.

I could see Rudy tense up beside me, his whole body stiffening. He knew I was about to lose it, and he was scared—more scared than I’d ever seen him. “Silla, calm down,” he said, his voice shaky, trying to sound in control but failing. “Please, there’s no need to—”

But I wasn’t listening. I pushed him back, hard, not caring if he stumbled. “YOU DON’T FUCKING UNDERSTAND!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the room. I wasn’t going to stand there and let them talk about what they’d done to my friend like it was nothing. I wanted to make them feel every bit of the pain they’d caused, and I was ready to tear them apart to do it.

Taz barely had time to react before my fist connected with his face, a sharp, solid punch that sent him staggering back. He shouted, stumbling into the wall, blood trickling from his lip. “Bitches!” he spat, his hand flying up to his cheek, but I was already moving, ready to hit him again.

Rudy grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back, his eyes wide with panic. “Silla, it’s enough! No need to—”

But I shook him off, throwing him back, my heart pounding, my fists shaking with rage. “Enough?” I hissed, my voice trembling with fury. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s enough. You don’t understand what they’ve done, what they keep doing! I’m not going to stop until I get what I want, and if I have to break every one of them to do it, I will.”

The guards must have heard the commotion, because suddenly there were ten of them, swarming into the room, their hands hovering over their weapons, their eyes darting from me to Rudy and back again. They saw Rudy on the ground, and Taz still clutching his face, and I could see the confusion, the uncertainty flickering in their eyes.

“Boss and Taz down!” one of the guards shouted, and I could see them all tense up, ready for a fight, not sure who the hell they were supposed to be protecting.

 

Rudy POV

Everything happened so fast, it was like the whole room exploded into chaos. One moment, Taz was shouting, his voice high-pitched and panicked, “That bitch is attacking me and Boss!” and the next, Silla was on him, moving with this kind of feral, focused energy I hadn’t seen before.

She was smiling, almost like she was enjoying this. It wasn’t just a grin; it was the smile of someone who knew she was in control, who knew she was stronger than any of them. She stomped down on Taz’s balls, hard, making him double over with a strangled cry. “Shut up, big man!” she snarled, her eyes flashing as she glared down at him. “I’m gonna deal with you later.”

I was stunned, frozen, just watching as she launched herself into the fight. There were almost ten guys in that room, all of them bigger than her, all of them armed or ready to take her down, and she didn’t flinch. She didn’t even hesitate. She was a whirlwind, moving from one man to the next, like she was playing some kind of deadly game.

Silla ducked low, dodging a punch from one of the guards, and grabbed a baton from his belt. She swung it upward, catching him right in the groin, and he went down hard, his scream echoing off the walls. “AAAAAAAAA!” The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine, like I could feel the impact myself, the pain spreading through me as if it were my own.

But she didn’t stop. She spun around, her movements fluid, precise, and slammed the baton into the next guy’s balls, her face set in a look of cold, fierce determination. He crumpled, clutching himself, eyes wide with shock and pain. It was almost eerie how effortless it was for her, how she could bring these men to their knees with just a few well-placed strikes.

I watched, half in awe, half in horror, as she moved through them, ducking, dodging, swinging that baton like it was an extension of her arm. One guy tried to grab her from behind, but she was too quick, spinning around and driving her elbow into his stomach before kicking him in the chest. He flew back, crashing into a table, and didn’t get up. Another guy lunged at her, but she sidestepped, letting him stumble past her before she brought the baton down on his back, sending him sprawling to the floor.

She was relentless, a storm that couldn’t be stopped, and I almost forgot I was part of this scene, just standing there, watching her take these guys down one by one. Every time she landed a hit, every time one of those men screamed, it was like a tiny victory for her, and I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t just fighting them—she was enjoying it.

Joshua, Taz’s right-hand man, was the last to come at her. He was bigger than the rest, bulkier, and he thought he could overpower her. But Silla was ready. She slipped under his swinging arm, and before he could react, she drove her knee into his groin, hard. He gasped, his face turning pale, and then she delivered a swift kick to his head, knocking him out cold. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, and I realized, with a jolt, that she’d taken out almost every single one of them.

It left just one guard standing, a big guy who had been hesitating, hanging back as he watched his comrades drop like flies. He looked nervous, unsure, and I could see the way his eyes darted to me, like he was waiting for a signal. Silla didn’t give him a chance to make a decision. She lunged at him, aiming a sharp kick at his groin, but for the first time, she missed, and I saw her stumble just a little.

That’s when I noticed Taz. He’d been knocked down, still groaning, but now he was on his feet, and he had a gun in his hand. He was behind Silla, his face twisted with rage, and she didn’t see him. She wouldn’t have time to react.

My heart stopped. I don’t know what came over me, but I moved, my body acting before my brain could catch up. I was right beside Taz, close enough to see the way his finger tightened on the trigger, and I did the craziest thing I’d ever done—I grabbed his arm and twisted it hard, the gun slipping from his grip as he howled in pain.

Before he could recover, I brought my fist up, swinging with everything I had, and punched him square in the jaw. I felt the impact all the way up my arm, felt the bone crunch under my knuckles, and Taz stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock, blood trickling from his lip. He fell, his head hitting the floor, and didn’t get up.

I was breathing hard, my heart pounding, my hand throbbing from the punch. I looked up, and Silla was staring at me, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. She looked… shocked, like she hadn’t expected me to do anything, let alone save her life.

We stood there for a moment, just staring at each other, the room around us quiet except for the low groans of the men on the floor. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. I was still shaking, adrenaline buzzing through my veins, and all I could think was how close it had been, how easy it would have been for her to get shot if I hadn’t moved.

I’d saved her. And I had no idea why.

 

Silla POV

I stood there, staring at Rudy, still processing what he’d done. I could barely believe it. He had actually saved me. In the middle of all that chaos, when it would have been so easy for him to do nothing, he’d stepped in, and he’d protected me. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or furious, but I couldn’t deny the surprise.

I reached out and touched his face, my fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. “Why?” I asked, my voice soft, but with a hard edge underneath. I needed to know. I needed to understand why the prince of The Wolves would do something like that.

Rudy just shook his head, his eyes clouded, not giving anything away. He didn’t say a word, and it was like he was just as confused as I was. He turned away, shoulders tense, and muttered, “Let’s get the fuck out of here and get this done with.”

But I wasn’t done. Not yet. Not after what Taz had said. My eyes darkened, and I felt that familiar, cold rage start to bubble up inside me. “He did the unthinkable to my partner, Rudy,” I said, my voice low and steady. “And… you know what I’ve done. You’re going to watch. I want you to see it closely.”

Rudy’s eyes flicked back to me, a hint of confusion there, but I just smiled, leaning in close, letting my lips hover near his ear as I spoke, my tone dripping with mock sweetness. “What do you think about what I’m capable of, Rudy? When men keep pushing women, pushing and pushing, they force us to the edge. They create what you like to call ‘crazy bitches,’ but for us? This is empowerment.”

I turned away from him, my smile widening as I stepped toward Taz. The bastard was still on the ground, groaning, half-conscious, his lip bloody and his face a mess. He wasn’t getting up anytime soon. I crouched down, my hands moving with a kind of deliberate calm, and stripped off his jeans, ignoring the way he tried to squirm away. There was no fight left in him; he was just a scared, pathetic mess.

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled out my knife, the blade catching the dim light, and brought it down, cutting through flesh. Taz’s scream was like nothing I’d ever heard, a raw, guttural sound that echoed off the walls, but I didn’t stop. The blood spurted out, warm and sticky, splattering over my hands, staining the floor.

Rudy flinched, his whole body jerking, and I could see the way he squeezed his eyes shut, like he was trying to block out what was happening, but it was too late. That image, the blood, the sound—it was already burned into his brain. I knew it would haunt him, the way it haunted me every time I thought about what they’d done to Rebecca, to all the other women like her.

When I was done, I stood up, wiping my hands on Taz’s jeans, still smiling. “Guess we need to find some spare clothes,” I said, my tone light, almost cheerful, like I hadn’t just mutilated a man. I turned to Rudy, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat of his body, and whispered, “Thank you, Rudy. A life for a life. I’ll spare yours… but don’t forget, you’re still my handsome pet.” I laughed softly, the sound echoing in the silence, and then walked away to grab some clothes for both of us.

I could still feel the adrenaline buzzing through me, making my hands shake a little, but I didn’t care. This was the part I enjoyed—the part where I was in control, where they couldn’t do anything but fear me. It was like a drug, that power, and I craved it.

“Come on,” I called over my shoulder, tossing a fresh shirt and jeans toward Rudy. “It’s late, and we’re going to find a motel for the night. Tomorrow morning, we head for Testiville.”

He caught the clothes, his hands still trembling, and I could see the way he was struggling to hold it together, trying to keep that tough, untouchable mask in place. It made me want to laugh, but I held back, just barely. Instead, I stepped close, letting my hand trail down to his groin, grabbing him by the nuts, and gave a little squeeze, just enough to make him wince.

“Let’s go, Rudy,” I said, my voice low, almost playful. “We’ve got a long night ahead, and I’m not done with you yet.”

I tugged him along, dragging him to the other room, and he followed, stumbling slightly, still trying to process everything. And I could tell, even if he didn’t want to admit it, that he was scared. Scared of me, scared of what I might do next. And that was exactly where I wanted him.

 

Rudy POV

I stood in the motel bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. My hair was still damp from the shower, drops of water trickling down my neck, and I felt… raw. Like I’d been stripped down to nothing, exposed. I glanced down, and there it was—the damn ring still wrapped around my dick, a cold, unyielding reminder that Silla could burn me any time she felt like it. No matter how much I hated it, no matter how much I wanted to rip it off, it was there, and it wasn’t going anywhere until she said so.

I turned the faucet on, splashing water over my face, hoping it would help me clear my head, but it didn’t. The image of what I’d seen in that outpost kept flashing through my mind—Taz on the floor, the blood, Silla’s knife. I tried to shake it off, but it was like a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from, a nightmare that kept replaying over and over, and no amount of water could wash it away. I felt sick, like something inside me had been twisted into a knot, and I couldn’t untangle it.

I dried my face with a towel and wrapped it around my waist, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but when I walked into the bedroom, I saw Silla sitting there, and for a moment, everything stopped.

She had showered earlier, her hair still damp, clinging to her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple tank top and shorts. It was weird, seeing her like that, so… normal, after everything. But there was something in her eyes, a kind of heaviness, and I knew she wasn’t as okay as she was trying to seem.

I hesitated, not sure if I should say anything, but the words slipped out anyway. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Silla looked up at me, her eyes glistening, and I saw her wipe a tear from her cheek. “I’m okay,” she said, but her voice was soft, and I could hear the lie in it. She wasn’t okay. I could see it, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

I felt something tighten in my chest, like I was seeing a side of her I wasn’t supposed to, and I didn’t know what to do with it. She was always so tough, so in control, but right now, she looked… vulnerable. It was like she was letting me see behind the mask, and I didn’t know how to handle that.

Silla stood up, taking a step closer, and for a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other, the room around us fading away. I felt frozen, like I was caught in something I didn’t understand, and I couldn’t look away from her. Her eyes were locked on mine, and there was something there, something I couldn’t put into words.

She got closer, and suddenly, I could feel her breath against my skin, warm and soft. My hand moved almost on its own, reaching out to touch the hem of her tank top. I hesitated, expecting her to push me away, to tell me to back off, but she didn’t. She just stood there, watching me, her lips slightly parted, her eyes dark and intense.

I tugged at her tank top, lifting it slowly, and she raised her arms, letting me pull it off over her head. I felt the fabric slip through my fingers, and then it was gone, and she was standing there, bare skin glowing under the dim motel light. My heart was pounding, and I could barely breathe, but I couldn’t stop.

We didn’t say a word. There were no snarky remarks, no insults, nothing. Just this crazy, electric tension that was building between us, pulling us closer. I didn’t know what it was, didn’t know how to explain it, but I could feel it, buzzing under my skin, making my head spin.

I leaned in, and our lips brushed, barely a whisper of a touch, but it was like a spark, igniting something that had been simmering beneath the surface. And then we were kissing, hard, urgent, like we were trying to drown out everything else, to forget where we were and who we were supposed to be.

I pushed her back, stumbling forward, my hands gripping her hips as I guided her toward the wall. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away, just moved with me, her hands tangling in my hair, tugging me closer. Our mouths crashed together, lips and tongues and teeth, and I could taste her, warm and sweet and desperate.

I pressed her against the wall, pinning her there, my body pressed up against hers, and I felt her arch into me, her breath hitching as our hips met. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, didn’t know what this meant, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that I wanted to be closer to her, to feel her, to lose myself in the heat of the moment, and nothing else mattered.

I kissed her harder, my hands roaming over her skin, and I could feel her pulse racing under my fingertips, matching the wild rhythm of my own heartbeat. It was confusing, maddening, but I couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away. And I didn’t want to.