“I had you guys followed. A good businessman keeps close tabs on his assets. And JJ Smith is a great asset, especially now that everyone knows he’s a girl. I thought having the mayor’s son and his best friend racing for me was great, but having the mayor’s daughter too? You’re gonna make me a fortune, Zara. Way beyond what you owe me.”
The words escape my mouth before I can think better of it. “So, Ares was right. If I paid you the half million we owe you between us, you wouldn’t let us quit.”
“Your brother is smart for a cop. You and the other two were so cute, thinking that paying me would make us even. You’re worth much more to me on the racetrack. And besides, for a smart girl, your math skills suck. Half a million is yourcombined initial debt. Since you didn’t pay me last night upon not completing the race, and Chance and Lev didn’t bring me JJ Smith, your debt attracts interest with every day that goes by. You now owe me six hundred thousand.”
Shit.
Ares was right. Mason doesn’t intend to let us go for as long as the races bring him a profit. “What kind of interest rate is that? You can’t add one hundred grand in one day.” I object.
He laughs. “Aww, you’re absolutely adorable, Zara. Or do you prefer JJ? I’m not a bank and I don’t have to abide by any laws when I decide what kind of interest rate to apply. Your debt isn’t even because of a loan. You and your brothers could have just entered the race without placing a bet, but you decided to do so when you didn’t have the cash to settle the bet in case you didn’t win. I let you walk away on your own legs, and all I ask is for you to work off your debt. It’s more than fair, don’t you think?”
Mason Morelli wouldn’t know fair if it hit him in the face with a shovel.
A buzzing noise coming from my clutch bag that fell onto the floor when Mason pushed me against the sink attracts our attention.
“What the fuck is that?” he bites out.
“I’ve been here a while. It’s probably Heather or my mom looking for me. I should go.”
If I was hoping that Mason would move, I’m sorely disappointed.
“Not so fast, Zara. We’re still talking.”
“I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other.” I push against him, but he doesn’t retreat.
Instead, Mason leans closer to me. “You know, at this rate it’ll take you a very long time to pay off your debt. There’s always another way we can make good on what you owe me. And since I’m a good man, I’ll forgive Lev and Chance’s debt too.”
I have a feeling that I’m not gonna like whatever he wants in lieu of racing, but I ask anyway. “What’s that?”
“You’re a very pretty girl, Zara. Come to a few parties on my uncle’s yacht and we’ll call it even.”
If I remember correctly, Mason mentioned something about it last night. “What kind of parties?”
His voice goes down by an octave as he explains. “The kind where you’re very friendly with my uncle and his rich friends. Serve them drinks, watch them play cards and then provide one-on-one entertainment in their private cabins. They will pay a lot for a young, pretty girl like you. And my uncle will be happy with me for the recruitment, and that’s worth what you owe me. Of course before I can agree to these terms, I need to sample what’s on offer so I’m sure it’s worth it.”
He tucks one strand of hair behind my ear, tracing his fingers down my pulse point.
“What do you say?”
I fight the shudder that works its way down my spine. Mason Morelli is a predator, and the worst thing I can do right now is to show my fear.
“No, thank you. I don’t… I’d rather race.”
Mason’s reaction is as swift as it is violent.
His fingers close around my throat as he presses me harder against the sink. “Why do you sound so disgusted, huh, little slut? You play this innocent act as the mayor’s perfect little daughter; but then you fuck his sons behind his back. Or do you think I don’t know that your boyfriend and your younger brother like to share you? You sure didn’t sound disgusted last night.”
Terror grips my insides as his fingers tighten around my throat, restricting my air supply to the point that my vision begins to narrow as splotches of black begin forming on both sides of my peripheral sight.
Mason presses into me using his whole body, and I feel him hard against my thigh.
I could have died twice on the racetrack, but I didn’t. Maybe this is how I die.
When Mason unexpectedly loosens his grip on my throat, I inhale greedy, noisy gasps of air.
But he didn’t give me this very needy respite because he decided to let me go.
“Fine, little slut. Have it your way. You can repay your debt on the racetrack. But now I want a taste of that pussy if it’s so good that you have the mayor’s sons and Levin Reilly wrapped around your little finger. It’s up to you how this is gonna go down. You can be nice, and I’m gonna make sure to be gentle. Or I can take what I want the hard way.”
