“But you won’t disappoint me, will you, Hudson Saint-James?” He smirks, turning the look from unsettling to creepy in a second. “Your mother’s only child.” He tsks, clicking his tongue, using his arm to block the door from closing. “She’s so delicate.” The sigh he lets out is a new level of fabricated concern that even I’ve never reached, and I’ve been faking everything about my personality in public since I was a teen. “So mentally weak, hmm? Maybe she needs to be in a facility that can help with that.”
Threatening my mother? Really? I can snap his neck faster than he can blink, and he’s standing within arm’s reach as he threatens her. You’d think a man so small would be more scared about getting his shit rocked. Then again, he did leave his guards in the lobby.
I’m sure Dad will understand if I just kill him a little bit…
“Do you think my father would appreciate you speaking about his wife like that?” I ask, tilting my head. “He wants to teach me alesson. Something I can’tlearnif you kill me, obviously.” I roll my eyes like the arrogant shit he thinks I am and hate every second of it. “If you want your money, I suggest you consider who I am and who my father is. You both agreed to this deal.”
He and I both know if my father were just any regular man, we wouldn’t be standing in this fucking elevator to begin with.
I’d either be dead or worse.
Honestly, I think if my last name wasn’t Saint-James, I would be working off my debt to him in the ring with feral Alphas for the rest of my life. Never would’ve let me walk out of that warehouse either.
Scott laughs, and the sound is so unpleasant that I actually jerk away from him. Thank fuck he hides his scent. Probably smells like putrid sewer water. Rather breathe in dog shit than this guy.
Tilting my head, I cross my arms over my chest. My bicep is bigger than his head. I’m a little surprised he can still see me from down there with my arms in the way, but he does. He just keeps smirking. Now I’m trying to figure out why this creepy-ass old man is staring at me so fucking intently.
I think he wants to wear my skin like a dress.
Mom always tells me to listen to my instincts. Let them guide me. For a long time I thought she meant, like, when you think a girl is into you but is actually faking it to use you for your money. Then I turned fourteen, and an adult I thought was a family friend put his hand on my thigh under the table at a charity banquet.
When he followed me to the bathroom later that night, I tried to tell myself I was overreacting. Even when he stood too close to me at the urinals, I told myself it was fine, that I was fine. Safe with him. I’d known this man since I was in single digits. The alarm bells in my head couldn’t be right.
The rest of the night is a blur in my mind, but I remember my father slamming into that bathroom like a fucking lightning strike. He was already my hero, and even though I don’t remember all the details, I do know that I never saw that man again. No one did.
For just a second when I saw him in that doorway, I was scared that my father was going to be angry with me for being in that position. I was wrong. Something else I remember? The waythat man looked when my father had his hands wrapped around his throat, and the way my dad looked when he told me to run to my mom.
Fury and fear weren’t things I’d ever seen on his face before.
Still, I never imagined my mother’s warning would apply to a moment like this. I’m not entirely sure what the fuck is happening right now. This guy makes my skin crawl. He’s small, not very dominant, but shit, he’s setting off alarm bells I’ve never heard before.
“Your father doesn’t scare me,boy,” he barks. “Remember the terms of this arrangement, or else.”As if I could forget.“I think you get the point.”
Is the point that he’ll kill me, or that he wants to live inside my skin?
Scott adjusts his suit jacket, fixes his tie, and turns away from me. “Come,boy.” He whistles like I’m a fucking dog, and I have to hold back my growl.
According to Scott, his son can’t keep his shit together on his own, so I’m supposed to keep him in line. Report back to him daily with a list of every person he speaks to and every single place he goes. Twenty-four-seven. And when I’ve learned my lesson, my father will pay my debt. Which means I need to move quickly so I can get the fuck out of here as fast as possible.
I scoff when we step up to the door of the hotel suite, and a high-pitched Omega whine slaps us in the face, followed by porn-worthy moans. I honestly don’t give a shit what his son does or who he does it with. However, Beau being a spoiled celebrity with a wild reputation for partying might make my job easier if I can exploit it correctly.
Honestly though, with a dad like Scott? Who can blame the guy? At least if I need to get into more trouble, his lifestyle should make that easier.
I squint as Scott snarls beside me. I knew what I’d be doing, but honestly, until I got into that elevator with Scott, I wasn’t sure I was going to be very successful. The things I’m looking for have nothing to do with his son. And yet, whatever’s going on with this guy's son, I have this odd feeling in my gut that as prepared as I think I am, I’m not even close to the truth.
That’s pure instinct after the way he fucking creeped on me.
Good thing no one ever expects someone like me to have coherent thoughts, let alone critical thinking skills. Thank you, Mom, for the good looks, and Dad, for the bottomless bank account everyone assumes makes me an arrogant loser that relies on his pretty face and wallet for everything.
The more I watch the man, the less I feel like I understand. Why would he want me to dothisjob? Follow his son around. I’m missing something. Connected red lines I just can’t see yet.
“I want every detail.” He sneers as he jerks his head to the side to crack his neck, swipes the key card, and shoves his way through the door.
I’m expecting the smell of sex, but I’m not prepared for the scent ofher.It hits me hard, making me sway on my feet. Holy shit. Rose petals and vanilla that are so strong, my head swims.
Scott seems to stumble a bit as well, shivering as we walk further into the hotel suite. My hackles rise, and the thought of that evil fucker breathing in the scent of this complete stranger makes me want to rip his throat out.
Why can’t I just kill him right now?
