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Claimed: Chapter 7

London

Fifteen days…I’m going to enjoy stretching you out, Vivienne. Very much.

Those words came back to me as I stared at the pain in her eyes. They were the words I’d told her that day outside the classroom in The Order, when the need to both protect and own her had overwhelmed me. If only I’d gotten her out of that place fast enough. If only…Hale had given me the goddamn contract.

She wouldn’t have stayed there a second longer. She wouldn’t have been subjected to whatever hell those guards had put her through. She wasn’t raped, that I knew. I’d seen the evidence of her virginity on the stained sheets in Colt’s room, after their first time. But penetration wasn’t the only way you could terrorize a woman…

No.

I knew better than that.

I like pain.

I winced at the memory of that Daughter kneeling inside The Command Room, just waiting for me to unburden every sick, debased desire on her body…and savage her soul just a little more than it already had been.

No.

The guards of The Order wouldn’t have penetrated her. They would’ve been careful not to leave something evident. But they would’ve done other things. Degradation. Pain. Humiliation. I tried not to imagine the welts they would’ve left on her body and clenched my fists instead, aching to touch her.

I was too late to save her.

Please God, don’t make me too late to save Colt.

“We’ll get everything together,” Harper murmured. “I’ll make sure they’re safe as they can be going in.”

As safe as they can be going in. That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Once they were inside, there was no telling what waited for them.

They could be walking into a trap for all I knew.

That twitch came in the corner of my eye.

That was it.

For all I knew.

I didn’t know.

I scanned every face in the room. Harper, Carven, Guild. Men who were highly trained and good at what they did. Men who would go to the ends of the Earth for those I loved. Men who’d put their own lives on the line.

And it’d all be for nothing if we didn’t know what they were walking into, or even if Colt was there. They would be going in blind. I couldn’t have that. I would not risk another of those I cared about.

You don’t get to think, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR? Your job is to DO!

Hale’s roar filled my head as I narrowed in on the one person who could tell me everything I needed to know. The one man Hale had all but thrown out of his office the last time I saw him…

Riven Cruz…

The Principal.

If there was a divide there, I’d exploit it.

If there was even a hint of a crack, I’d blow it wide open, enough for the truth to come out. I turned my gaze to those haunting brown eyes. Then maybe they wouldn’t need to go in there at all. Maybe I’d turn Hale’s hounds on him and get Colt out myself.

“Get everything ready.” I turned and snatched the keys from my desk. “But don’t make a move until I say so.”

“Where are you going?” Vivienne snapped.

I stiffened. Only she would dare talk to me like that…and I’d let her. “To find out just how far loyalty will go…then to my bank. I’ll need a rather large withdrawal.”

I was already heading for the door when she called out. “Can’t you just call them?”

I stepped out, lengthening my stride as I headed for the back door and pushed through. “It’s not that kind of bank.”

By the time I’d backed out of the driveway, I had Riven’s last known address on my GPS screen. It was a penthouse in one of the upper-class towers in the city. I glanced at the time and pushed the Audi harder as I headed toward it.

Only, as I passed the opulent street not far from my own, my thoughts turned to Dante Ares. The man hadn’t sounded right when I’d spoken to him. His tone wasn’t just cold. It was empty, distant. Fucking scary if I had to make a finer point.

I’ve got problems of my own, St. James. Your fucking mess is your own. Keep me and my family the hell out of it.

“You’re in it though, aren’t you? One way or another, you’re in it up to your fucking eyeballs.”

I tore my gaze away and focused on driving, passing streets at a blur and turned into the heart of the city. Riven lived here, Kane lived further out of the hustle…but The Priest, Thomas. There was no record of where he lived.

That alone unnerved me as I pulled into the parking lot and braked. Heads turned my way as I climbed out. But they were more interested in the dinged-up front end of the Audi than they were in me as I headed for the expansive automatic doors of the foyer.

I walked in, adjusted my jacket, and headed for the front desk. The young woman seated behind the desk lifted her head, and her wide brown eyes grew wider. My lips curled, the smile automatic. They got the outside versions of me. The surface one where I kept calm and careful.

“Hi there,” I murmured, narrowing in on her.

He cheeks flushed and her eyes twinkled. “Ah, um. Hi.”

“I have a meeting with Riven Cruz and I seem to have forgotten my phone to let him know I’m down here waiting.”

“Mr. Cruz?”

I widened my smile and nodded.

“Um…” she stuttered, rising from her seat. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure I have an appointment, or you’re not sure about Riven? He has the penthouse and I think he owns a good stake in the building, if that jogs your memory.”

She jerked panicked eyes toward the doorway, then to the phone sitting on the desk.

Call, I urged. Just so I know the piece of fucking shit is even here.

I focused my attention on the gun tucked into my waistband. If the bastard was here, then I’d force my way in. Tie him up. Force him to give me the information I wanted…but I wouldn’t take him out. Not yet. Not until I had Hale on his knees in front of me.

Then they’d all meet their fates.

The image of that filled me as the young receptionist glanced my way, then carefully reached out and picked up the phone. The automatic doors opened behind me and the heavy thud of a male’s steps followed.

“Jessica,” the asshole called. “Everything okay?”

I ground my teeth. Just fuck off.

But the insistent asshole never left. Instead, he stopped this side of the counter as the receptionist stuttered. “Mr. Grayson. This gentleman, Mr…”

“St. James.” I answered, turning my focus to the guy beside me. The one dressed in the neat, two-piece suit and who looked every bit the part of an overpaid doorman.

“He was asking about Mr. Cruz,” she added.

The smile he gave was every bit as fake as the goddamn Rolex on his wrist. “I’m afraid we don’t give out information on our residents.”

“I wasn’t asking for information. Just to call him and let him know I’m here for our appointment. I seem to have forgotten my phone.”

The asshole stared right through the lie. “I’m afraid we can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” I forced the words through clenched teeth.

All he had to do was stay the fuck away for five more minutes and I would’ve had all the information I needed.

“Can’t,” the asshole added finally.

Can’t.

If I had to take a guess, I’d say it was because Riven wasn’t there. I glanced back at the receptionist. She gave me a wince that tried to double as a smile. “If he’s not here, then maybe he’s coming.”

There was a slight shake of her head.

“No, he won’t be,” the manager finished. “I’m sorry your time has been wasted, Mr. St. James.”

My stomach tightened, and panic rose. “Not half as I am.”

I turned then, not bothering to give the receptionist another look and headed for the door. This was a total waste of my time. A total fucking waste—

Rage moved through me as I strode out and headed for my car. But the moment I neared the driver’s door, I caught the sound of panicked steps hurrying toward me.

“Wait! Mr. St. James.”

I stopped, then turned, finding the receptionist rushing toward me. She was sucking in hard breaths by the time she reached me. Her hair was windswept as she tried to smile and compose herself.

“Um, I thought you might need my number…you know…in case you need anything else.”

I stared at the curled edges of the purple sticky note in her hand. “I don’t think I do,” I answered coldly.

She stepped closer and grabbed my arm. “He’s not there. Mr. Riven, I mean. He’s not there, and he hasn’t been for weeks. His things are still there, but we were told not to give out information to anyone.”

“I see,” I answered as she pushed the note into my hand.

“Just in case,” she urged.

I closed my hand around the crumpled piece of paper and turned away, climbing back into my car. She was still there when I started the car, stepping out of the way as I reversed out of the parking slot. One stab of the window control and it rolled down so I could crumple the note into a tight ball and hurl it out the window just as I hit the driveway.

The thought of holding another woman’s cell phone number a second longer made me feel fucking sick. Thoughts of Ophelia rose as I turned the wheel and headed to the other side of the city, where the expensive buildings were surrounded by high fences and carefully controlled by armed guards…well, one building in particular.

“The bank,” I murmured as I pulled the car into the driveway and stopped at the guard hut.

I rolled down the window again and grabbed my ID. My name wasn’t enough to get me inside this place. No, it was locked down and guarded with better security than the president had. It should be…it was worth more.

“Mr. St. James. You’re cleared for entry.” The guard handed me back my ID and took a step back so I could put the car into gear and nose into the driveway.

The parking lot was almost full. I caught sight of the matte Black Badge Ghost sitting in the parking space marked President.

“Good. Saves me having to chase the sonofabitch down,” I muttered as I parked five spaces away and climbed out.

I couldn’t help but glance at the sleek bespoke machine Baron drove. It was new…very new. A gift he given himself to celebrate that harpy of a fucking ex-wife finally leaving him, although not without drawing blood on her way out.

I grabbed my wallet and pulled out my ID as I stepped through the doors and inside, stopped at the security gate and lifted my arms.

“Mr. St. James,” the guard murmured as he stepped close.

“Bernie.” I gave him a nod and lifted my arms as he waved his wand over my body.

“No electronic equipment?”

I handed him my phone. “There’s no porn, so no sense in searching.”

He just grinned and shook his head while I tucked the phone back into my pocket as he glanced at the two other guards waiting in the foyer and nodded, giving me the all clear. I left them behind and headed past the foyer with its lush gardens and expansive waiting area before I headed to the elevators. Black brushed steel gleamed, distorting my reflection as I pressed the button and the door opened.

My thoughts turned to the contract Hale had taken out on my life.

A million dollars.

I gave a chuff as the doors closed and the elevator rose, taking me all the way to the fourth floor. A floor for executives of the company only. Lights flashed before the doors opened.

Lawlor Diamonds.

The sign sparkled as I stepped out and turned, heading to the reception desk.

“Mr. Baron Lawlor.”

I caught the voice of a woman standing on this side of the counter.

“My name is Cloe Woods. I have an interview for the position of Mr. Lawlor’s personal assistant?”

I lifted my gaze as I came closer.

“You sure you want that?” The receptionist gave a careful shake of her head. “The job of his assistant, that is. He’s…how shall I say it? Difficult.”

Harmony, that was her name, I think. They all looked the same to me. Hair slicked back into a neat bun, their makeup perfectly applied. The dark, midnight blue chiffon blouse embroidered with a diamond above her breast.

One look at the awkward woman standing in front of me and I knew she was in the wrong place.

My gaze lowered to the run in the back of her sheer black stocking. Yep. Definitely in the wrong place.

“Yes.” She jutted her chin in the air, her voice trying its best to be forceful. “I am sure. I need this job. Here’s my credentials.” She shoved a folder over the counter, pushing it toward the receptionist…and knocked over a cup of coffee in the process.

“Oh shit!” she barked and lunged, tearing around the end of the counter to grab the cup and made the entire situation worse.

I just watched. If I wasn’t so riled, I might’ve found it amusing.

“Just stop!” Harmony barked as she shoved backwards, grabbed a wad of tissues, and tried her best to stem the flood. “Leave it…please, step away.”

The temp dropped her hands and stepped backwards. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t…” Harmony jerked her gaze toward the black steel door across the room. “Just go through there. It’s not like Baron’s going to notice you anyway.”

She was a rabbit amongst wolves here. She turned her head and glanced toward the door marked Baron Lawlor. A frightened little rabbit who was about to become a meal. Still, the rabbit had guts as she inhaled a hard breath, straightened her shoulders, and with the file in her hand, made her way across the floor.

“Wait,” I muttered, stopping her instantly. “I’m first.”

Harmony lifted her gaze, finally seeing me. She flinched, straightening instantly. “Mr. St. James. I…I didn’t see you there.”

She swallowed as the temp settled sage green eyes on me…before she scowled. I expected surprise, maybe even that glaze of lust…one just like Harmony was giving me. But this one didn’t. She just lifted her hand, glanced at the cracked old watch on her wrist and said, “Sorry, I’m before you.”

“Excuse me?”

Defiance blazed in her eyes. “My interview…is now. So that makes Mr. Lawlor’s time mine…first.”

I clenched my jaw, not in anger but to stop it from falling open. Maybe she wasn’t a helpless little rabbit at all…maybe this one had teeth.

“Um. I don’t think you—” Harmony started.

I stopped her with a wave of my hand. “By all means,” I murmured to the temp. “I’d hate to make you late.”

The feisty temp turned on her heel and walked across the open floor to her fate. I lowered my gaze to the run in her stocking and shook my head. I glanced at my own watch. It was three in the afternoon and time was ticking. I glanced at where she knocked on the door, then opened it and stepped inside.

It didn’t matter, anyway.

She wouldn’t be in there long.

Any moment now the door would open and she’d storm out, red faced and angry. Maybe there might even be tears in her eyes. I hoped not. Don’t be your usual asshole self, Baron…

I glanced back at Harmony, finding her staring at me before I winced and started strolling toward the office. The door opened abruptly as I neared…and the poor rabbit stepped out. One glance my way. Those dull green eyes shone with satisfaction.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Lawlor. Bright and early.”

“Whatever.” Came the mutter from inside.

She stepped around me. “Mr. St. James.” Then she hurried away.

Surprise widened my eyes as I glanced into the expansive office with the stunning view of the city and stared at the man behind the desk. The man most people knew very little about…until last month that was.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

“Did you see this goddamn shit?” Baron snarled, lifting his gaze and his phone into the air.

Lawlor’s Blood Diamonds – the Inside Scoop by Jacqueline Lawlor. The headline was bad enough, but that Baron’s face was front and center of it made it that much worse.

“That fucking bitch,” Baron snapped. “What, a five hundred million payout wasn’t enough for her? She had to do this shit?”

I stared closer, staring at the wording in the article. “She’s in breach of her contract. You can sue her for that.”

“Fuck sue her? It’s not the money I give a shit about. You know what kind of attention this can bring down on us? The kind we don’t need…”

The kind that could bring every fucking headhunter and greedy motherfucker to his door…no…to our door. Because I had a ten percent stake in whatever shitshow was about to be unleashed.

“About money,” I started, then remembered the little rabbit. “Wait, you know there was a woman here, right? A temp.”

“From the agency. I fired that double-crossing liar Brittany. Caught her feeding Jackie important company information. She’s gone.”

Brittany? Barron’s right-hand woman. Christ, no wonder the guy was pissed. “Well, I hope the new one works out.”

“She won’t. But as long as it keeps the others off my back, I don’t give a fuck.”

“They’re here?”

He gave a shake of his head. “Royal’s in Dubai, Loyal is at the country estate dealing with the rest of dad’s goddamn paperwork and Crew…” he met my gaze. “Who the fuck knows where he is? Why…what is it about, money?”

“I’m going to need an advance on next month’s payment.”

“An advance?” He rose from behind the desk. “We paid you two million last week.”

“Hale has my son.”

He flinched, that dark scowl deepening. “What’s Carven done this time?”

I shook my head. “Not Carven. Colt…and he left this behind.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the handkerchief holding his thumb.

I barely had to open it before Baron flinched. “What the fuck…” he exclaimed as he met my stare.

“Ophelia is dead. Colt killed her in retaliation for the attack.”

“She was the one who organized the hit outside the restaurant?

I gave a slow nod. “It’s too far gone, Baron. There’s no going back.”

“Jesus.” He glanced at the bloodied handkerchief in my hand. “You’re going to war, aren’t you?”

I gave a slow nod. “And I’m going to need money to do it. Lots of it. Now, about that advance.”


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