A Gift from the Goddess novel Chapter 142

*CRACK*

…Another finger joint. The third now in under five minutes, him still refusing to answer me.

Truthfully, I was a little surprised he was holding out for as long as he was. He was still determined to resist my questioning and refused to cooperate. Was this really the hill he wanted to die on? After everything he’d been working so hard on for at least a decade?

“You know… I’ve been doing a lot of research lately,” I said. “Thanks to you, my health has become a point of focus for me and I’ve actually learnt a lot about our kind’s anatomy.”

And I grabbed another finger, pressing it tightly in a way that conveyed the threat. Just hard enough for a pathetic whimper to leave him.

“Like for example… did you know that our joints heal faster than all other injuries?” I asked. “Faster than cuts, gashes… faster than even bones breaking? It’s something to do with how our joints relate to our ability to shift. They naturally have to heal quicker in order to compensate for that.”

*CRACK*

Another finger.

“…But evidently that doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” I added.

“Please… stop…,” he cried.

Though it did him little good. He already knew what I wanted to know and could end this whenever he so desired.

“I did the math…,” I said, ignoring him. “I could hypothetically dislocate all of your fingers about five times within the next hour without any issues. That means I can repeat this process approximately every twelve minutes. The only question is… how long will it take before you finally answer me? Another round? Another four? …Ten?”

“Goddess… enough… I’m begging you.”

*CRACK*

And I leaned in, right next to his ear.

“Then tell me where the documents are, Sterling,” I whispered. “Tell me what they contain.”

Only his cries replied, screaming out from the pain. Something that merely annoyed me enough to then grab his next hand, ready to start again with a fresh set of digits.

But, finally, it seemed that was enough for him to speak.

“Why do you care?!” he shouted back. “You’re angry at me but I wasn’t the one who dosed you. I was just the supplier, commission to make them. The man you’re trying to protect right now is the one you should be torturing.”

I knew that. Of course, I did. To a certain degree, I should be pissed at my father… and I was. But this went beyond simply protecting him now. This was my only chance to locate the documents and… and, well, after that I could choose what to do with them. An internal debate for myself another time.

All that mattered right now was getting the information… and making Sterling pay.

“I’m the one asking the questions,” I reminded. “You’re not in any position to be arguing right now.”

…And I grabbed another of his joints firmly… readying to snap it at any second… giving him one last chance….

“Okay, okay!” he yelled. “Okay… I’ll tell you. Just… please. Please stop. I-I can’t take it anymore.”

“Where are they?”

I wasn’t keen on wasting any more time. Despite being several floors up from the dining hall, there was every possibility someone could hear should they wander this way. Not that they should have a reason to. It was meant to be a private level for the Alpha heir and all the attendants would be on duty serving the dinner guests.

“Where are they, Sterling?” I repeated again, him taking too long to answer.

“I… I think they’re in Miles’ warehouse,” he said. “It’s located near the border between Lockdale and Ashwood.”

Right… I already knew about that warehouse. My father had been the one to originally tell me about it. But if it was that simple, the documents would have been retrieved already. The first thing he would have done is send someone to look there.

“Where exactly in the warehouse?” I asked. “In a safe? A hidden compartment?”

It seemed he thought that simply mentioning the warehouse would be enough to satisfy my question, his eyes becoming more stressed as I pressed for details.

“I… I’m not sure. All I know is that it’s in the warehouse,” he said. “Please… let me go now. I told you all I know.”

Did he think I was stupid? This wasn’t amateur hour, I’d had plenty of experience in situations like this. I’d been taught to be an expert in getting answers; no matter how I went about it. If he actually thought that I would believe him so easily, then he really was naïve.

And so I snapped another finger… making sure to get my point across.

“Tell me where exactly in the warehouse they are,” I repeated. “I’m losing patience.”

Instantly, he cried out again, squirming under me enough that I had to press my knee harder into his back. A reminder that he was still overpowered.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he whimpered pathetically.

And I grabbed another finger.

“One…,” I simply replied, holding it firmly.

His denials sped up in speed, becoming more frantic.

“…Two…,” I continued, bending it backwards slowly.

He was almost screaming now, shouting that he didn’t know as if it was somehow going to save him.

Which, of course, it wouldn’t.

Oh, well. He did it to himself.

“…Three—.”

But before I could finish, he then cut me off.

“A FLOORBOARD!” he yelled. “A floorboard in his office, under a rug! He always kept all of his important things in there, but… I-I don’t know anything else. I swear.”

I sighed in exhaustion.

“Now was that so hard?” I asked, leaning back a little. “Funny how your memory seems to work better when subjected to pain. So, I wonder then… if that’s the case, have you finally had enough? Or do I need to keep going until you remember what’s inside the documents too?”

“I don’t—.”