My belly snarled, low and demanding, dragging me from the darkness. I cracked open one eye to the spill of soft sunlight around the edge of blackout blinds. For a moment, that’s all there was, nothing but that hint of daylight. Hope waited with it. Until a deep throb in the side of my face made me wince…and in an instant, the terror of the last twenty-four hours came flooding back.
The mall.
The attack in the dressing room.
And the abduction.
I closed my eyes with a shudder. My throat thickened and forced me to swallow. Bang! That clash of steel echoed in my head. I dragged my knees higher and curled my body as the memory of their hands followed, clawing me…pawing me, until my belly growled again, only louder this time, and I smelled food.
I lifted my head and pushed upwards. Through my better eye, I stared at the open bedroom door and the glimpse of the living room before I glanced at the foot of the bed. Colt had been there last night, sitting and watching—protecting me. But he wasn’t there now. I scanned the room. He wasn’t anywhere.
I pushed the covers aside, slid out of bed, and retrieved the robe from where Colt had dropped it. The silence in the apartment was deafening. The pounding of my pulse drove through me as I tugged the tie around my waist. Had they left me? Had they…
Been killed?
I stumbled forward until I stopped two steps into the soft white living room and stared at London, who sat on the sofa. His legs were crossed, one arm was casually lying along the back of the sofa. Those dark, unflinching eyes were fixed on me.
He slowly turned his head and motioned to the cart against the counter in the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungry, so I took the liberty.”
“You seem to do that a lot,” I grumbled as I glanced toward the food. From the corner of my eye, I saw him smirk. I ignored that as I looked at the bedroom opposite mine, with the double doors open and the room silent. “Where are the others?”
“Busy.”
The way he said it made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end.
“I bet they are,” I muttered. Busy spilling blood, that is.
I was so hungry, the smell of bacon was nearly overwhelming. I moved carefully over to the counter and lifted the cover before I picked up a plate and turned to him. “Are you not eating?”
The corners of his lips twitched. “I ate hours ago, Vivienne. The food is for you.”
I grabbed the last two pieces of bacon, bit the end of one and headed back to take a seat on the sofa opposite him. My robe gaped as I flopped down, opening to expose my thigh and breast. I didn’t cover them. He’d seen it all before. Touched it and kissed it too. Hunger glinted in his eyes, only it wasn’t for the food that was piled on my plate.
He wanted me. Even battered and bruised, he still wanted to take me down to his basement and fuck me with his machine. Only he didn’t need to do that now, did he? Because there was no contract stopping him from taking me whenever and however he wanted.
London St. James was the one I ran to.
They all were.
His gaze skimmed my breast, then lowered to my bare thigh, and to the diamonds that glinted around my ankle. Diamonds he’d bought for me.
I tore the bacon in half and chewed, relishing his attention just as much as the food. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You mean, apart from finding the name of every person who betrayed me and slaughtering them?”
I stopped chewing as the bacon turned dry in my mouth. I swallowed again and again, forcing it down. “Yeah, that.”
“Then my plan is to make sure you and the sons are safe the only way I know how.”
I didn’t have to think hard. “King?”
He gave a slow nod as his attention lowered to my bare breast. “King.”
I shifted and opened my thighs. “You still think that guy is the way to end all of this?”
He was silent as I bit off part of the last piece, my hunger returning with a vengeance as I did. He uncrossed his legs and rose slowly, moving with the grace that made me feel so insignificant. Because I was insignificant in London St. James’s shadow…everyone was.
He was the man who was an enigma, holding more darkness and power than flesh and bones should allow. He took a step closer and loomed over me as he stopped beside the sofa.
Just for a moment, I wanted to know what was behind that bottomless stare. Just once, I wanted to taste his soul. He reached out and brushed his curled finger along my jaw. “You know everything I do is to keep you safe, don’t you?”
My breath stilled as my pulse leaped.
I searched that callous stare, but found no trace of a smile. Because his words weren’t meant for comfort or joy. His words were threatening, the kind that should terrify his enemies…because they terrified me.
Still, he held my stare. “Don’t you?” he urged.
I swallowed to wet my mouth and answered. “Yes, Daddy.”
One slow, careful nod and he glanced at my plate. “After you’re finished, you’ll need to shower and get ready. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” I repeated as he turned and adjusted his jacket as he headed for the hallway. “Where?”
He didn’t answer, just left me with the soft thud of his footsteps until the sound of a door opening came. I rose and followed, sliding my plate onto the counter. Voices spilled out before the door was closed once more, leaving me out of whatever they were planning.
That spark of anger rose, but it was quickly snuffed out as a deep throb came at the side of my face, reminding me what this was for.
You know everything I do is to keep you safe…don’t you?
Those words haunted me as I turned away from the hallway, my gaze moving to the plate still piled high with food. My belly clenched with hunger, but it was a sickening hunger, until the ache moved lower, blooming low down in my abdomen.
I winced and caught my breath as that pain expanded. “Great,” I growled. “As if this day can’t get any damn worse, now I get my period.”
A throb came in my cheek, hurting like hell as it hit home. I was going to get my damn period…confined with three goddamn controlling assholes and I had no necessities. I scanned the room and found a beautiful ornate wooden desk at the far side of the living room, with a phone sitting to one side.
I fixed my robe and crossed the space, picked up the handset, and called the number listed for the reception desk. I spoke fast when it was answered, giving instructions for the things I needed and how I wanted them wrapped before I hung up. One embarrassing conversation over…now for another goddamn battle. I steeled myself and made for the other bedroom door.
“This is dangerous territory.” London shook his head as I yanked the door open. “The last thing we need is to piss Dante off, so we listen to his thinly veiled threats before we go to—”
Carven swung that savage glare toward me, fresh blood splatter marking his face. “Need something, daughter?”
I flinched at the sting of his tone and my cheeks burned. What the fuck had I done now?
They all stared. Colt, London…and Carven. Especially Carven.
My face throbbed, my belly hurt, and now rage bubbled up as I glared back at him. Still, I bit down on that anger and forced my words through clenched teeth. “I have a package coming up from downstairs. Would you let them in?”
“Package?” Carven snarled as he turned to face me. “What kind of fucking package?”
Christ, there was blood everywhere, splattered across his shirt and up his neck. I froze, fixed on that gruesome mess, until I looked away. “That’s none of your business, is it?”
“None of my—” Carven lunged, but he was stopped by Colt’s hand on his arm before he shook his head.
The sight of him fuming suddenly made me feel a lot better. “Be a good son and let him in, will you?”
He unleashed a growl and yanked his arm from Colt’s hold before he stepped closer. Those blue eyes chilled me as he leaned close. “You better be worth it.” He sneered. “Because if daddy dearest doesn’t want you, we’re as good as dead. You get that, right?”
My world narrowed into that second. To the rage in his eyes and the hate in his tone. His words had no trace of love, not that I expected any from Carven. “What is he talking about, London?”
I turned to the only man who wanted me to call him daddy and searched his gaze.
“Nothing,” London snarled and cut Carven a glare. “Nothing at all.”
A pang ripped across my chest as I remembered it had been Carven’s voice I’d heard as I fought. His voice that drove me to kick and fight even when hope had gone. The threat of tears shimmered as London gave a slow shake of his head.
“Carven,” London warned. “That’s enough.”
I didn’t look away, just gave a slow nod, riveted by the power of his hate. My chest was a wall of fire as I croaked. “No, it’s fine. I know where I stand.”
Those piercing blue eyes widened, taking in every flinch, until I turned and headed back through the door. The moment I closed it behind me, the tears came sliding steadily down my cheeks.
I swiped them away and cursed the ache in my belly, and not just for the pain. I hated being emotional. Hated it more now that I lived with the most callous fucking assholes God ever put breath into. I clenched my jaw and headed for the bedroom, tearing the robe off before I stalked into the open shower and hit the faucets.
A sob resounded in my chest, burning like a brand. I touched my breast and the cut underneath but my fingers came away bloody and I washed it away in the shower’s stream. I hurt…Jesus, I hurt. Warmth spilled over the ache of my body, plastering my hair to my face. I faintly heard a sound coming from outside the apartment. But I turned around, shielded my tears from them, and set to work pulling myself together.
By the time I’d washed, I was better. My face still throbbed, but I could open my eyes a little wider, enough to see a bit more, at least. I stepped out, avoiding the mirror for as long as I could, until I raised my eyes to the reflection and took a good look.
My breath caught as the world stood still.
“Jesus,” I whispered as I gently probed the deep purple bruise that spread across the side of my face.
My damaged eye was bloodshot, and my lower lip was a damn mess. I looked like I’d been in a car wreck. It was the only answer I’d want to give, because the truth was too fucking terrifying to believe.
I took my time drying my hair, then applied what little makeup I could and headed out to the bedroom. Clothes were laid out neatly on the foot of the bed, just like always. I jerked my gaze to the living room, but heard no movement.
I dressed in the clothes he wanted, neat black slacks and a high-necked bronze cashmere sweater, with a soft black bomber jacket lying next to it. The boots were carefully chosen and stunning. I tugged them on, zipped them up midway along my calf, and rose from the bed just as pain tore across my belly.
The wave of agony rocked me. I clenched my jaw and hunched over for a minute, then stepped into the apartment to find the package wrapped in plastic waiting for me on the kitchen counter. I grabbed it and found the end torn open, with the contents exposed. “Motherfucker.” I lifted my gaze, picturing Carven’s eagerness to tear my shit open. “Is nothing fucking off limits here?”
Well, I hoped it was worth it. I was about to make his goddamn week miserable. I strode back into the bathroom, inserted a tampon, and stowed some in my purse before gathering my things. Nothing was private with them, not even my goddamn menstrual cycle.
The apartment door opened, and the thud of footsteps headed my way. London was first, instantly scanning my clothes before he lowered his gaze to the purse in my hands. He glanced at the counter. “I see you found your package.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Great, so they all knew now.
“Yes,” I forced through clenched teeth. “You can tell Carven—”
“It wasn’t Carven.”
I froze, my mind racing. “You?”
Of course it was him. Why wouldn’t it be? He knew everything else there was to know about me. Why should my bodily functions be any goddamn different? Goddamn men and their fucking needs. They wanted to pluck at my edges and tear me apart. They wanted to shove their greedy fingers and hungry tongues into the very center of me just to find out what made me shudder and tick. I hated them for it and craved them all at the same time.
He searched my eyes. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Thank you.”
One careful nod and Colt came closer and gave me a soft smile before he grabbed my things and carried them with him as he turned toward the door.
“Vivienne.” London held out his hand.
I took one look at the offer and walked right past him, my head down and shoulders hunched, and headed for the hallway. I steeled myself and yanked open the door, expecting to walk right into a wall of hate. But Carven wasn’t there, just Colt as he headed for the elevator and London behind me.
I followed Colt, my pulse thrumming furiously.
“Head up, Vivienne.”
I jerked my gaze to London. His long strides made little work of the distance between us. “What?”
He met my gaze. “Always walk with your head up, watching everyone around you. Meet their gazes. It makes you less of a victim.”
Victim.
The word hit me like a blow. My steps stuttered and my shoulders curled even more. He stopped and came closer to stare down at me. “No one will ever try to take you again,” he murmured. I saw it now. Under the mask, he was scared…no, he was terrified. He lifted his hand and that curled finger lifted my chin. “Never again. Do you understand me? Never…again.”
The faint ding of the elevator sounded, and we were alone. I gave a slow nod.
“So, you’ll walk with your head up, aware of your surroundings at all times. You’ll lengthen your stride, with your shoulders straight. You’ll look every motherfucker in the eyes, and be the woman no one will dare touch ever again, not unless you want them to.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
He searched my gaze, then lowered his hand. “Because we’re about to walk into a fucking lion’s den, pet. I need them to not only see you as a warning for what happens to anyone who touches what’s mine, but to see that this didn’t break you, it only strengthened you.”
I wanted to tell him that was a lie.
That inside I was on very shaky fucking ground.
“Because you are stronger for it. Look inside, find the fury. Use it to rebuild yourself into a goddamn force.”
I inhaled and dragged his words deep into the clinking pieces of my shattered spirit. I found that taste of rage, that seething hunger for retribution.
“I’ll be right beside you,” he added. “Every step of the goddamn way.”
I gave a slow nod as he motioned toward the elevator, and this time, when I took a step…I straightened my goddamn spine.
