You Are Mine, Little Sister novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

VOID

There was something electric about getting new emails on the Black Net because it meant there was someone to kill.

It was one of the few things that made me genuinely happy.,

But today? Today wasn’t just electric. It was fucking divine,

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Eric walked in with the laptop and I could already tell from the twitch in his brow that whatever he was bringing me was going to make my day.

It did.

‘Hi. My name is Zerali. There’s a man that’s been stalking me for some time now, and due to how dangerous he is, I think he might be someone from The Underworld.

Please, I’ll need your help to get him off my back.

I read it once.

Then again.

And then I howled.

The laugh that tore from my throat sounded like something that should’ve come from the underbelly of Hell–and it felt damn good.

Beside me, Eric chuckled, shaking his head.

What the fuck? I’d never laughed as much as I did today. I didn’t even think it was possible. But with my Rali, everything seemed possible.

“She wants help,” I said with mock pity, skimming my fingers across the screen. “Oh, Rali wants help.”

Usually, emails and messages from the Black Net went through several layers of scrutiny. We didn’t respond to every single one. My men handled the first sweep–filtering out the noise and flagging anything that felt important. Only then did it land on my desk. From there, we launched our own investigation to verify the message’s authenticity.

It was so cute to think my Rali would go to Void for help, not knowing that Void was me. Her nemesis.

But she was in so much trouble, because I warned her not to get anyone involved again. The little bitch.

A smile still bled onto my face as I set my hands on the keyboard and typed back a response:

“I am very interested in this, Zerali. What are the details you can share on this man?”

“You’re playing along?” Eric asked as I hit the send button.

“Of course. My woman needs my help. Why would I deny her that?”

He shook his head, knowing I was up to no good. Damn right.

I held out my hand to him. “Pass me a stick.”

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22:30 Mon, Sep 1

Chapter 40

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He dipped his hand into his pocket, came up with a cigar and lighter and dropped them in my palm. Without a word, I lit it, took a drag long enough to scorch my lungs, then stuffed it between my lips.

“Where is she?” I murmured with the cigar wedged between my teeth.

Tapping my keyboard a few times, the screen above me lit up like a cinematic universe.

Cameras. Angles. Live feed.

She was there in the living room, surrounded by her coven of friends.

They were all staring at the laptop with wide eyes. No doubt, they’d seen the email and were shocked.

I watched them argue for some time before the red–haired witch snatched the laptop from Rali and started hammering out a reply.

I dragged a hand over the back of my neck, a low grunt rumbling in my throat.

Fucking bitch. If I had the shot, I’d have put a bullet through her skull right then just so Rali could get her damn laptop back.

“Oh, my God! First of all, thank you so much for responding. I understand how occupied you must be.”

“Secondly, there’s a lot to say about him. He’s hurt me, killed people and done much terrible things…”

The bitch launched into a damn manifesto, dragging out her list of grudges against me. She even bolded the part where I ate Rali out. How the fuck was that any of her business?

If she wasn’t so important to my girl, I’d have already painted the walls with her brains and smoked a cigar while watching it drip.

I hesitated on emailing back. The red–haired witch was only going to keep texting, and she wasn’t the bitch I wanted to communicate with.

So, I thought of making things a bit more interesting.

“I want us to meet up. A meeting will be fixed and the date communicated to you. Don’t be late, Zerali.”

I watched their stunned expressions through the screen. As expected, the red–haired witch typed back.

“Forgive me for asking, but who will I be meeting? A representative?”

My lips twitched and barely held back a smile as I typed back: “The Torturer himself.”

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