She heard his keys slide into the door. “Just do it like we talked about,” she said. “No one will ever know it was you.” The door opened, and light, shuffling footsteps came down the hallway.
She was lying in bed with the man who was going to ruin her fiancé. She had been using him as her beta for over two years, spending his money and slowly investing his assets in her name without his knowledge. She was ready to finish him off.
He walked to the bedroom doorway, calling her name. “What the fuck? Who is this?” There he stood, 5’4”, in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at the woman he dedicated his life and work to lying in bed with another man. She looked at him silently and glanced away without saying a word.
The man rose from the bed and took long, calm strides up to him. He stood 6’3” and towered over her fiancé, coolly grabbing him by the shoulders, and effortlessly pushed him to the floor. He pinned him on his back and slammed his fist into his face repeatedly, making the helpless male grunt and squirm, inaudible words interrupted every time the man pounded his face.
After fourteen direct blows to his face, he fell limp and the man stopped. He tried to roll over away from the man, slowly sliding his body underneath him and mumbling incoherently.
“More,” she said, resting on the bed on her side, holding her head in one hand with an almost bored look on her face. The man resumed beating him, pounding his fists into his teeth, making a fleshy thud with every methodical blow. “I want it bashed in. Show him what happens to losers who get in the way.”
The man grabbed one of his boots from the floor and put it on his foot. It was a thick boot with a heavy sole, the kind used for heavy work or construction. The man pulled him up from the floor with one arm and dragged him, stumbling across the room, to the bathroom and put him on his knees in front of the sink. He grabbed his hair with one hand, opened his jaw with the other, and gently rested his teeth against the top of the rounded porcelain. He stood behind him and took a small step back.
“You’re done,” he said, and swiftly kicked the back of his head forward with the heel of his boot. Teeth tacked across the floor, bounding against the tiles, before his body fell with a soft thump. His face was bashed and sunken in. He lay on the floor and groaned softly, breathy whispers coming from his ruined mouth.
“Shut up.” The man lifted his boot from the floor and stomped on his face three times, pausing for a moment between each blow. His jaw and cheekbone snapped with audible cracking sounds. The beaten male fell silent and unconscious. The man took off his boot and dropped it next to him as he stepped over his unconscious body and returned to the bedroom.
“I left my phone at a friend’s. I wasn’t here tonight. Take everything he has. Most of it is in my name already.”
“That’s mine too.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pushed her face into the sheets, and mounted her from behind.
“Yes, sir,” she muffled into the bed. “It’s yours. I’m sorry. Thank you.” She knew who she belonged to and loved him for it.
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