Free The Power of a Woman: A Mafia Erotic Romance by Gina Whitney, Leddy Harper Page A

the tables were turned. And nothing felt more gratifying than turning the table on someone like him.
    Stefan must’ve grown tired of the stare down, because he lurched forward, taking Zeke by the back of his neck and shoving his face into the bowl of water. He fought against Stefan’s hold, the water splashing over the sides and onto the carpet. I watched with amusement as he thrashed about, arms and legs chained, unable to do much other than buck against Stefan’s body behind him. But once Stefan pulled his gun from his holster and pressed the barrel to the base of Zeke’s skull, he seemed to give in, calming his erratic flailing.
    “I’ll be right back. I have to go find a few things to make him a little more comfortable.” I sent a wink Stefan’s way and stood up. I didn’t know where to find the things I wanted, but I figured the first place to start looking was in Zeke’s bedroom.
    After spending a few minutes searching through Scarface’s personal belongings, I came back to the living room with my hands full of a few objects I thought would be useful. Zeke’s face was no longer shoved into the water bowl, but he did have a gash along his right eyebrow that left the side of his face painted red with his blood. I had no idea what had been said in my absence, but from the enraged expression on Stefan’s face, I knew it couldn’t have been good. His nostrils flared, his lips pressed tightly into a hard, firm line, and his eyebrows were pinched together so hard it caused deep creases in brow. But once he noticed my presence, his fiery gaze met mine, and I watched them soften right in front of me, as if the sight of me eased his inner turmoil.
    I threw the zap collar and umbrella onto the couch, and unfolded the newspaper I found to lay out beneath him. Stefan sent me an inquisitive look, but I knew better than to explain my actions. If I told him the meaning behind the paper, he’d lose control for sure. And it would hinder my chances of taking this beast out on my own. If Stefan knew of the specific things Zeke had done to me, he’d kill him with his own bare hands before I ever had a chance.
    Once I had the newspaper beneath Scarface’s shaking body, I grabbed the collar and buckled it around his neck. I stood back to examine the scene, to see what it looked like from this angle. A surge of triumph flooded me, but not because I enjoyed torturing someone, not because I found some sick pleasure in humiliating another human being to this degree, but because this man, and this man alone deserved to experience everything he’d done to me.
    “Just fucking kill me already. I know that’s what you’re going to do anyway, so just get it over with.” His voice was filled with heavy desperation. He wasn’t desperate to live, because he knew that wouldn’t happen—it didn’t matter how much he begged or pleaded for his life, it wouldn’t save him. He’d given up, and that offered a small amount of satisfaction.
    “Oh, you’ll die all right.” I moved the ottoman so I could sit in front of him. I wanted a front-row view of this. “But that will come in time. I’m not finished with your games just yet. You had such fun playing these with me, that I thought I’d give them a try. We’re gonna play some trivia first, and we’re not going to stop until you’ve pissed yourself. Got it? The rules are the same as the crossword puzzle.”
    The fucker still had some fight left in his as he growled at me, bearing his teeth. I pressed the button on the zapper, watching his body flinch and his eyes squeeze closed. I pressed the button two more times just to make a point. And the reflection of pain in his expression gave me pleasure.
    Yeah, I was a sick, twisted fucking bitch, and I had Zeke to thank for it.
    I leaned in close, resting my elbows on my bruised kneecaps. “How many gallons of water would it take to fill the Atlantic Ocean?” I had no clue as what the answer was, and I knew he didn’t, either. But