Page 107 of Villainous Intent

“She thinks you’ve just been buried in work,” Cipher said, tucking the phone back into his suit, effectively ending the conversation and locking away my only lifeline. “You’re going to go to dinner, you’re going to eat pasta, you’re going to drink wine, and you’re going to act normal. You will tell her absolutely nothing about this.”

“What if I decide to just go home with her after dinner? What if I tell the waiter I’ve been kidnapped and forced to eat italian food?” I challenged.

Cipher’s mouth curved into a smirk and he leaned back, giving me an inch of breathing room that felt more like a trap.

“You are welcome to do that,” he said. “But then you’d have to explain to Havoc exactly why you were kidnapped in the first place. I’m sure daddy would love to hear all about how you agreed to be mine behind closed doors, how you’re desperate for me to fuck you again.”

He had me, and the arrogant bastard knew it because that’s exactly what would have to happen and I was absolutely not letting Havoc know I’d willingly engaged in a sexual relationship with Cipher.

Cipher cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes losing their focus for a fraction of a second. I recognized the look as the same one Twelve had worn when he’d received the order to bring me to Cipher. It was the look of their internal comms system.

“Your things have arrived,” he said.

“My things? Did you send someone to my apartment?” I asked, my voice rising. A sudden image of a henchman rifling through my underwear drawer flashed through my mind. “Did you have your henchmen break into my bedroom?”

Cipher didn’t answer but gave me a look. It was a look that said, I am a Villain, Annie. Did you think I’d wait for an invitation? His silver eyes held zero remorse, only a mild impatience that I was asking questions with such obvious answers.

“Privacy isn’t really a concept you grasp, is it?” I snapped.

“Efficiency is,” he countered smoothly. “Number Seven has excellent taste.”

He tapped a command on the holographic interface and signaled to a henchman standing by the door.

“Take Ms. Bishop to Crew Quarter Four,” Cipher ordered. “Ensure she has everything she needs to prepare for dinner.”

He turned back to me, his hand tightening on my hip one last time before he abruptly released me.

“Go,” he commanded. “Get dressed. Make yourself look like the good girl you pretend to be.”

“I’m going,” I snapped, scrambling off his lap and heading for the door.

“Annie.”

I looked back and found Cipher watching me with that unsettling stillness.

“Enjoy your dinner. Laugh with your friend.” He stood up then and stalked toward me, stopping just inches away. “But remember. Once you return here, our game begins. You ran and so I’m going to make you beg for permission to come.”

My breath hitched.

“And I am going to deny you,” he promised. “Over and over. Until you’re screaming for it. Until you admit exactly who owns every single drop of your pleasure.”

He pulled back, his silver eyes burning into mine. “I’ll be watching. I’ll be listening to every word you say. Don’t disappoint me.”

He turned and walked back to his console without a backward glance.

I was terrified of what he was going to do to me tonight. And I couldn’t fucking wait.

I followed the henchman until he stopped in front of a metal door, tapped a sequence into the keypad, and stepped aside. I walked into Crew Quarters Four, the door sliding shut behind me with a thud.

I stood in the center of the room and surveyed my cage for the foreseeable future.

The space was massive, dominated by a king-sized bed with dark gray linens. A sitting area occupied one corner, and an open doorway revealed an attached, fully stocked bathroom featuring a large walk-in shower. If this was standard henchman living, I suddenly understood Twelve’s fierce defense of his benefits package.

I pulled open the built-in wardrobe and a fresh wave of violation washed over me. My clothes, my actual clothes from my apartment, were perfectly organized. Sweaters folded, blouses hung, shoes lined up by color.

But my attention immediately snagged on a black garment bag hanging separately from the rest of my stuff.

A single purple rose was tucked neatly into the curve of the metal hanger.