together: trained by Santoro 1

Since then, no one had ever really hurt them again. No one had that kind of power.

Until they met Rafael Santoro. Daddy.

He had never hurt them, not even touched them, but what did that matter? He’d taught them the art of pain and coercion and torture. Beautiful arts when used against others rather than directed toward them. So much power. So sexy. No, erotic. Sensual in the truest definition of that word, because it engaged all five senses in ways that made their subjects totally alive and completely aware of every nerve signal.

Santoro had never directly threatened them. Not once. But he’d taught them the cost of disappointing expectations. They’d watched him, the master artist at work, on people who had disappointed him.

-Rage pg. 272, Kindle Edition.