Her chest rises and falls heavily, making the gold chain with the lock glisten and sparkle in the light above us. “No.”
My tone is firm. “Then it’s settled. You’ll start on Monday.”
She huffs out a breath, peering up at me with indecision. She doesn’t want to accept it, but she also doesn’t want to be bored. There is something else swirling there, too.
When she doesn’t speak, I leave her with one last warning. “And I suggest you act like working in the medical unit is why you’re here. Other people are living on the estate who are more unforgiving than I am. Your life doesn’t rest only in my hands, darling.”
The tremble bolting through her body tells me she heard me loud and clear.
I don’t know why a part of me is hanging onto hope that she might be harmless. Yet there’s a possibility she is a rat, trained and conditioned to slip in and gather information to destroy us. If she is involved with the Calco Cartel and is a reason ourproduct has been going missing, she already knows everything about the Megalley Syndicate.
However, if Kate is as oblivious as she pretends to be, Carter is right. She’ll learn a lot about our mob in a month while she’s staying on the estate. Letting her go with that kind of knowledge carries the same weight and is just as dangerous.
Honestly, at this point, I don’t see an ending where she gets to keep her life.
FOURTEEN | KATE
“Stop touching it. It’s not coming off.”
My fingers fall from thegiftPreston gave me, hanging heavy on my neck like an anchor. Another thing keeping me fastened here. I may not be imprisoned in a cell with chains, but it feels the same.
Even if it's an elegant one wrapped around my throat.
I side-eye him from where we stand in the grand foyer of the estate. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his sweats, those dark eyes void of emotion. They have been for the last hour as he gives me a lazy tour of my home for the next month.
A large chandelier with delicate crystals hangs overhead, its light reflecting off the gold embellishments that drip from every corner of the room. The grand entrance, fitting a spiral staircase, is tall enough to fit one of those massive Christmas trees I always admire during the holidays.
For such a dark man, his space is bright, with cream-colored walls and tan-marbled flooring. Too bad it doesn’t inject warmth into anything else besides the facade that screams wealth. This place has a kind of emptiness that stretches. It feels lifeless, though we’ve passed a few people here and there cleaningrooms. They’ve all given Preston some acknowledgement, then their heads drop, and they get back to work.
He gestures to the right. “Down this hallway is the gym. The door at the end of the corridor is where you’ll find the indoor pool and spa.” His glare sears into the side of my head, and my eyes are drawn to his. “Top floor is off limits. That’s where my office and room are. As well as other rooms, I highly suggest you stay away from.”
My sarcasm is unmistakable. “Great. Glad I can be as far away from you as possible.”
He cocks his head. “Is that why your ass was grinding against my dick this morning?”
Preston’s raw, unfiltered words have heat fluttering straight to my clit. The red flags flying around this man are as bright as the crimson that drenched his hands yesterday. But my pussy doesn’t seem to care. She has a mind of her own.
Guess she’s not satisfied with just my fingers anymore.
Hungry little bitch.
It doesn’t help that my captor is by far the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The soft, golden light from the chandelier overhead cast shadows across his tanned skin, highlighting his muscles. They occasionally ripple in a way that stirs a bloom of desire in my belly. And the tendons in those hands…dear Lord. My pussy may be tired of my fingers, but his—
His eyes narrow. “You look flushed. Do you need a drink or something?”
I catch myself ogling his frame, again, and shake myself out of it. “If I say yes, are you going to get me a dog bowl to drink out of?”
Shadows spark behind those bourbon irises, his hands shifting in his sweatpants pockets. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling. I like it when pretty things crawl for me.”
My attention lingers on the way he called me pretty.
I straighten my spine and lift my chin. If I keep acting like he intimidates me, he’ll keep getting a reaction out of me, which I assume he finds amusing. Darkness follows this man. I can’t let my guard down or fall for his erotic words.
His steadfast gaze feels like he’s using the shadows that follow him to sink into my soul and pick through the fragile pieces. It's as if he’s looking for something specific in the rubble.
I tuck my arms against my stomach, shifting to relieve the dull thrumming between my legs. “You’re sick.”
A corner of his mouth quirks. “Are you saying that to me or your cunt? Because, from where I’m standing, it looks like you're rubbing your thighs together. Maybe we’re both sick, darling.”
