“We’re late,” I say. “And how do you suppose Anton will see that? Do you think I’ll strip?”
His fingers dig into my thighs. “This one’s for me.” He’s about to add another, but his phone rings,Carterflashing on the screen for the third time in two minutes.
“Come on, we need to go.” I pat his head. “Enough stalling.”
With an exasperated huff, he rises to his full, intimidating height, grabs both suitcases, and juts his chin at the door.
***
Koby didn’t speak much on the journey. Carter took one look at my wound-up boyfriend and ordered him to the back seat, where Koby glued his hand to my thigh, flexing his fingers every few seconds like he was checking I was still there.
Broadway and Ryder didn’t follow us to Noretto’s, heading straight for a hotel by the auction house. According to Koby, Broadway’s avoiding Noretto until there’s no other choice. And even then, Ryder’s supposed to make sure he doesn’t kill the guy.
“We’re here,” Carter announces just as Blaze’s mansion emerges between a line of thick trees.
I’ve seen it before. I lived here for a few weeks, but the sheer size will never fail to take my breath away.
It’s a fortress. Big iron gates, stone walls that could probably withstand bombing, cameras peeking out under the roof, and two huge dogs sniffing at Jax’s feet.
He waits outside, flanked by three oversized men dressed in black. He looks tiny in comparison. Frail.
Carter kills the engine, stepping out first, his broad shoulders obscuring Jax as they reluctantly shake hands. Koby follows, his fingers lacing with mine. He helps me out, then immediately tucks me under his arm.
“Koby,” Jax greets with a nod, apparently aware a handshake is out of the question. He turns to me, scrutinizing my prominent hickeys. “Leilani. Looks like you’re having fun in Columbus.”
“Don’t make me finish what I started at the hotel,” Koby grits out, fusing me into his side.
Jax’s lips curl in amusement. “Relax. She’s your problem, not mine.” He turns on the sole of his leather shoe. “This way.”
My pulse quickens. I don’t mind Blaze or Jax, but Koby’s not far offticking, and I’m dreading what’ll happen once the countdown hits zero.
Inside, the house smells like wood polish, flowery perfumes, and gun oil. The guards trail behind us, closing the door just as Noretto appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in an immaculately pressed, tailored black suit.
When Octavius dropped me off here, the opulence of the old house faded into the background once I saw Blaze. I’d heard the stories and had a pretty good idea what kind of a man I’d face, but I was dead wrong.
I expected a man of his reputation to be in his late forties at least, but Noretto’s in his mid-twenties. I expected a ruthless,crass man with two half-naked women stuck to his sides, but he’s polished, empathetic, well-spoken.
There’s something magnetic about his contradictions. On one hand he sells young women to brothels, on the other, he’s uncommonly respectful, and careful.
When I raged, throwing fists, biting, and screaming, he never once grabbed me hard enough to bruise. Not even when I clocked him in the nose so hard blood gushed down his snow-white shirt. He never raised his voice. Never punished me for lashing out, even though he could have.
At first, I thought he put Jax in charge of my safekeeping because he was sick and tired of my tantrums. Now, I think he simply didn’t have enough hours in the day to talk me down from my frenzied fits.
Jax didn’t bother. He manhandled me until I relented, though he never physically hurt me.
“Willard,” Blaze greets, his voice smooth, almost musical. His gaze shifts to Koby. “Maddox. And... hello, Leilani. You look less cruel than last time. Columbus seems to agree with you.”
I can’t help but smile. “I can’t complain.”
“That’s new.” His eyes glint, crinkling in the corners, but the amusement quickly morphs into tension as he reaches his hand toward Carter. “Welcome.”
The atmosphere changes, growing heavier. Time ticks way too loud in my head. Three, four, five seconds pass before Carter shakes Noretto’s hand, muscles shifting and betraying how much that small gesture costs.
Blaze holds on half a beat too long before releasing.
Koby follows Carter’s lead, though his grip is sharp and dismissive. I expect Blaze will extend me the same courtesy, but he just inclines his head and leads us into the dining room.
It’s as elegant as the man himself.
