“Harlow, if I have to come back up there, I’m putting a bullet between Jaxon’s eyes, You can forget the baby-making scheme,” Peter calls, and it echoes up the circular staircase clearly enough for me to hear the true threat in his voice.
Fuck, do I risk him coming back? I glance around for a weapon, but there’s nothing really I can use.
“Go, don’t risk it. We’ll figure something else out,” Jaxon whispers, and I stop what I’m doing, a defeated sigh slipping from my lips. Bending down, I grab the rest of my clothes off the floor, leaving my panties exactly where they are. There is no fucking way I’ll put those back on now. Looking around for something to wipe myself with, there’s nothing but the bedsheets, and I refuse to use those. I might have been able to ignore them while riding Jaxon’s dick, but there’s no way I’m going to use them to clean myself up.
Grabbing Jaxon’s briefs, I swiftly make do. “Sorry, but leggings and dripping cum will make a bad situationsomuch worse,” I tell him ruefully, and he chuckles.
“Anything for you, babe. I love you.” His pupils aren’t so dilated now, and he seems to have come down a little like I have, so there’s an easy sincerity in those words that rings true.
‘I love you too. I’ll work something out,” I promise as I hurry to pull my clothes on. When done, I give him a quick kiss. “Don’t go anywhere,” I joke, and his small smile is enough to get my feet moving. I will do anything to keep this man safe.
I hurry down the circular steps to the panic room, following the sound of Peter muttering to himself. When I get into the room, my movement slows as I pass the bed. The doors to the gorgeous thing are wide open, and the base is bare, the mattress having been removed. My heart warms at the realization that the boys have been here, and it reinforces that I can’t let Peter win. I know the minute he hasn't got any use for me, I’ll be dead. I’m a pawn, a puppet for him to twist my strings, and when he’s got what he needs, he’ll cut them permanently, which means Jaxon and I will be dead.
But in a startling moment of clarity, I realize Ihavecome up with a solution. It’s pretty easy, really. It’s the same reason he needed one of the twins in the first place. Blood.
ChapterSeventeen
Harlow
“Hurry up, bitch. We need to leave.” He sounds impatient, but there’s a hint of anxiety there too, and who knows what kind of state his mind is in after all the coke he snorted. Jaxon and I only had a small amount compared to that. He’s going to be wired for hours, and the last thing I need is for him to get trigger happy.
When I enter the closet, I’m surprised to find it empty except for some jewelry and various knickknacks on top of one of the set of drawers. Peter is holding a gold watch in his hand, his eyes wide with awe.
“Look at this.” He waves the gun around, making my heart skip a beat. “It’s a Patek Phillipe. Got to be worth six hundred K. I’m just going to take this. I’m pretty sure my uncle would have left it to me in his will.”
This time, my heart just about seizes in my chest. Fuck!The will.That’s one of the other documents in this safe, and we have no idea what it says. It might very well declare that in the event that he and Dragos passed on, Peter would be the sole beneficiary to the Bucataru fortune. I need to make sure he doesn't see it.
Not wanting to draw this out any longer, I key in the code for the safe. The little beeps are loud in my ear but not as loud as Peter’s fetid breath which washes across my shoulder as he tries to get a look at what I’m doing.
The safe clicks open, swinging the door wide. “Is that it?” he asks as he shoves me out of the way.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s pulling everything out before I can even attempt to. He shoves the gun that was in there into the waistband of his pants.
“Tut, tut, tut, Harlow, that wasverynaughty. You didn't say anything about the gun. Did you think you could get a shot off before me?” He no doubt knows that if I could get my hand on it, I would have shot him.
A phone beeps in his pocket, and when he pulls it out, his face pales.
”Fuck, that was Raquel. Someone has arrived at the work site.”
He calls her as he gestures for me to grab everything else and get moving. “Get rid of them, Raquel, or youandthem will get a bullet when I get down there.” He hangs up without letting her speak a word, then shoves me. “Let’s go.”
I do as he says, and we hurry up the circular stone steps until we get back to the sex room. When he aims the gun at Jaxon, my whole world stops.
“Nooo!“ I scream, knocking his arm off track. The bullet smacks into the wall on the other side of the room. Peter’s backhand knocks me to my feet and rattles my brain before one hand wraps around my throat as the other rests the gun against my head.
“What the fuck did you do that for?”
I try to speak, but he’s got his hand too tight. So instead, I’m gasping for air and scratching at his hand while trying to keep an eye on the gun at my head. He finally lets go a little, and I suck in a deep breath before panting.
“Blood! We might need his blood to get into any of the safes on the other properties.” He lets go of my throat and steps back, a thoughtful look on his face. “It would be safe to guess that they have biometric scanners too.” I meet his eyes and hope that he can’t see how terrified I am. I’m going to have to play the will card now, too. I really don’t want him to see it, but considering how obsessed the count was with his bloodline, I’m taking a flying leap of faith. I pick up the bundle of papers I had dropped while he was strangling me and wave them at him. “In my hand is the last will and testament of Count Bucataru.” He eyes the paperwork with greedy glee. “If it says what I think it does, we’ll need to provide a blood-related heir to inherit it, so that leaves my womb and Jaxon’s swimmers. Jacinta won’t be as easily managed as her brother.”
He stares at me for a moment before nodding. “Fine, release him. Then we’re going back down and out the front door and across to where we left the car. I’ll shoot anyone I see, so the two of you better not make a sound unless you want to be responsible for more deaths.”
He’s lost all the devil-may-care attitude he’d assumed since he’d snorted his coke, and now he’s back in killer mode—which is very dangerous for the rest of us.
Without waiting, I scramble off the floor, passing him the papers. I don’t actually care anymore. I just want to do everything I can to get me and Jaxon out of here alive. I would burn this house down if it meant that the two of us were safe.
Once he’s free, Jaxon gets dressed, minus his underwear which are on my ass. As we exit the cage, Peter holds out two pairs of handcuffs. “Cuff each other,” he instructs, and we do as he demands with no argument. Jaxon seems to be in survival mode too.
