Jarvis laughed. “You have neighbors.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” My neighbors knew who I was. They’d offered sympathy after my father’s death, a few women even bringing casseroles and plates of cookies before the funeral. While they’d been gracious in their offers, they’d looked at me warily.
The bad boy turned powerful mafia honcho, they were fearful of what I could do. Or maybe they’d simply wanted to get a look at a ruthless man who’d been shaken by the power of a gun.
They’d be wary of a woman professing herself to be a prisoner of a very bad man, perhaps even refusing to unlock their doors.
I planned on using that to my advantage.
As I walked from the room, I thought about her in more vivid detail. Did the woman have any idea what she did to me? Did she not understand what provoking a beast would do?
As thoughts of her continued ravaging my mind, I accepted that returning the beautiful attorney to her normal life, pretending as if we hadn’t met and we both didn’t crave a taste of the darkness was no longer feasible.
Catherine was right.
As of now, she was my prisoner. Any and all freedoms would be earned.
And all discrepancies punished.
To the full extent of the law.
My law.
CHAPTER 8
Catherine
Were there any people in this neighborhood still alive?
I’d knocked on four doors of adjacent houses. Cars were in the driveway, music or noise coming from within the homes, yet not one person had come to the door.
That’s why I was now pounding on the fifth, begging to be let in. I had no doubt I was a horrible fright. I’d lost my shoes just after the jump. I’d torn my blouse and dirt covered my skirt.
Not to mention my hair was a complete mess, twigs from the fall stuck in my long strands. Why bother removing them? There hadn’t been time. I was even limping slightly from twisting my ankle.
The jump had seemed so easy, something I’d done in my youth time and time again. I’d been a state champion gymnast. I’d mastered the art of jumps, but something had been lost over the years. Not that I’d believed I’d need to jump from second-story windows into an ugly and thorny hedge to escape a monster.
“Please. I know you’re in there.” My cries were becoming shrill as I slowly fell into a wave of panic. “I need help. Call the police. Tell them Alexander Prince kidnapped me.”
Something caught my eye and I pulled back away from the door, eyeing one of the front windows. I was being watched, but as soon as the homeowner knew I’d noticed them, the blinds were snapped shut.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I backed away, almost tripping on a planter full of vibrant flowers. No phone. No one daring to go against their mobster neighbor.
I was screwed.
The only thing to do was to keep out of sight while I created as much distance as I could between myself and my kidnapper.
I turned away from the house, fighting another wave of emotions. How strong a hold did Alexander and his family have on this city? Of course, I’d known who they were. They owned a pristine block of real estate in the heart of the French Quarter. Indulgence encompassed everything from a coffee and pastry shop, a chocolatier and a high-end women’s clothing store to a fabulous five-star restaurant, one of the hottest nightclubs in the city and a very secretive and private for members only club. The rumor mills had been all over the place about the activities behind closed doors.
I’d also heard about the darker side of their world, from the sale of illegal drugs and weapons to acts of extortion and blackmail. But not one of the family had crossed over into my world so I’d mostly ignored social media and the press.
They were also the darlings of the city’s more notorious underworld, where black magic and stories of ghosts and demons fueled the energy of the city itself.
They were powerful people, Alexander the kind of man who refused to take no for an answer. Which was why I needed to get away from him.
All of a sudden, a strange prickling sensation on the back of my neck ripped at my breathing. I was being watched. No, that wasn’t correct.
I was being devoured.
