Thud. The front door closed as London left, taking the black velvet box with him.
The necklace wasn’t for me? Of course it wasn’t for me. Stupid. Goddamn. Idiot. I stared down the stairs at the goddamn waiter as the flash of anger hit me out of nowhere.
My heart thundered, feeling like it’d been ripped out of my chest, stomped on, and set alight.
What did you expect, you moron? That he actually gave a shit about you? That last night was anything more than getting his fucking money’s worth? I flinched and looked away as I waited for the waiter to leave. Idiot…idiot…idiot…still, I couldn’t stop the pain, not when it slammed into me like a goddamn bus. You hate him, remember? You. Fucking. Hate. Him.
I cupped my breast and still felt the small throb, which reminded me exactly what this was.
An abduction.
And he was my captor.
“Goddamn you,” I whispered as I stared at that closed front door.
But my body betrayed me as it still ached for his fucking touch. The memory of that roared to the surface and my pussy clenched. Fuck, I couldn’t get him out of my head. Those merciless eyes and that fucking mouth. Even now, I’d get on my knees for him. I closed my eyes, feeling Colt’s thick fingers as they slid inside, and grew wet. I’d get on my knees for all of them if they demanded it.
And I hated knowing that.
I made my way downstairs, haunted by that panicked feeling. I had to change this, had to create some distance between us. I had to remind myself of the plan. Find a way to get to Ryth’s dad…
If there was one person who’d know how to get me out of this, it was him. I lifted my head as I realized I’d stopped walking. But I wasn’t in the kitchen, or the study, where I wanted to be. Instead, I stood outside his bedroom door, drawing in the rich, seductive scent he’d left behind.
Christ, I wanted him.
I entertained the idea of invading his room once more. I’d climb into his bed, fuck myself on his nice clean sheets, and leave. Maybe he’d even watch, and yet what would that do? He’d still be gone, right? Still enjoying his dinner with another woman.
Would he fuck her?
Of course he would.
I was betting a man like London had women frantic to sleep with him. Now it seemed like he had one more…me. I winced and turned away as the heat of that knowledge burned in my cheeks. I couldn’t believe I was so goddamn stupid. I made my way downstairs, desperate to hide my shame from the waiter who was obviously more than a fucking waiter.
No asshole saw what he had last night and carried on today polishing the silverware. “You want to play like that? Fine,” I muttered as I headed for the study, thoughts of trashing the fucking place howling in my mind…until I stopped at the entrance to the basement.
The door was closed. The thick steel D shaped handle drew my focus.
I didn’t want the study.
I wanted out.
And a plan filled in my mind.
Precision Storage…
The business card nagged at me. There was no way a man like London would have one without a good reason. I was betting that reason would lead me straight to Jack Castlemaine, or at least to something. I didn’t need the card. No doubt it’d be gone anyway. The locks might not be in place in this house, but I was under no illusion that I was still a mouse in a tightly controlled cage.
I glanced toward the garage, then shifted my gaze to the entrance to the fully equipped gym, but my mind returned to that basement door. If London thought I was stupid enough to think the waiter wasn’t also a prison guard, then he was about to get a shock. I headed for the gym but glanced into the garage to the gleaming Audi just waiting for me to take it for a spin.
I couldn’t drive, I knew that. The three awkward lessons from my pretend father right before they dragged me to The Order told me that, but I’d give it a damn good shot.
Darkness waited for me in the gym. I stepped in, but didn’t need to search for a light switch as they came to life overhead. “Huh.” I stared at the place, expecting the room to be full of weights and treadmills. But it wasn’t.
The room was black, black walls and black mats. The only bright things were the small white lights that illuminated the space. The entire room screamed deadly.
There was a boxing ring set up on one side. Various punching bags hung from the ceiling on the other side and in the middle was the strangest setup I’d ever seen. Mannequins. Armed mannequins and some kind of martial arts training blocks. A shiver tore along my spine as I neared the equipment. This was…unexpected.
A row of knives sat on a shelf against the wall. Behind a clear case, there were guns, lots of guns. My breath caught as I looked at the silencers and rifles that looked military. “Jesus,” I whispered. Maybe these were the twins’? It sure looked like they’d be right at home here.
But the closer I came to the gleaming weapons that’d been honed to perfection, a whisper rose in the back of my mind. This didn’t feel like them. No, it felt more like…
I swallowed hard and shook my head. No. These weren’t London’s. He wasn’t a man stained with violence. A man like him paid people to do that kind of thing for him. I wonder where he got the money? The thought rose before I pushed it aside.
Focus, idiot.
I turned, scanned the room, and searched for something I could use, then I spied a thin steel bar toward the far end of the room and headed over. It was some kind of steel rod. I glanced over my shoulder to one of the weapons cabinets that was open. The lock was gone. I would bet the rod was meant to secure that. I gave a shrug. “Perfect.”
The burn in my chest fueled me as I grabbed the steel rod and walked out, holding it discreetly at my side. I didn’t allow myself to think this through, just focused on that black velvet case he’d walked out with. I bet he’d barely care if I was gone for a while anyway.
He’d be too busy on his goddamn date.
I strode to the basement door, pushed down on the lock, and shoved the door aside, peering into the darkness and the steep stairs as I tracked the faint sound of steps somewhere above. My heart was booming. Panic filled me for a second before I forced myself to step backwards, take a hard breath, and let out a shrill scream.
Steps thudded instantly.
Charging down the stairs.
“What is it?” the waiter roared as his eyes scanned the house.
I lifted one hand, the other keeping the steel rod against my side and pointed. “There’s a fucking man there. I opened the door and he was staring up at me.”
The waiter scowled, reached around to his back, and from under his shirt pulled out a gun. I fucking knew it.
“Stay here,” he commanded and stepped in, taking the first stair with the gun aimed at the darkness.
I said nothing, just tried to swallow the booming of my heart as he disappeared.
Do it.
Wait.
No, don’t wait…
DO IT NOW.
I strode forward, my hands shaking as I lifted the steel bar and pulled the basement door closed, then slid the bar through the handle and across the doorway.
“What the fuck!” the waiter shouted.
His steps thudded back up the stairs before he yanked the handle, but the door barely open an inch before it stopped.
“Open the door, Vivienne!”
I stepped backwards. “I don’t think so.”
He pressed his face to the crack, his eyes narrow with rage. “Open this door right fucking now.”
I said nothing, just turned and raced for the garage, hit the door and snatched the keys from the hook. “Have me on the goddamn table, then leave for some bitch. I’ll fucking show you exactly what your three million dollars bought you.”
I pressed the button, unlocked the car, and climbed in, before staring at the stick shift. “Shit.”
The engine roared to life as I stabbed the button. I reached up, pressed the remote for the garage door, then stomped on the clutch and wrenched the gearshift. A god-awful sound came as I jerked forward, lurching down the driveway in bone-snapping jolts until I tried the gears again, found one that didn’t sound like it was screaming, and punched the accelerator, tearing away from the house.
