SCARRED SACRIFICE

SAVAGE SISTERS MC | BOOK ONE

L G CAMPBELL

Copyright © 2025 L G Campbell

All rights reserved.

Written in English UK

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the Author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the Author.

Cover designer Robert Campbell

Edited by Jessica James

Proofread by Lizzie James

Formatted by Lizzie James

NOTE TO READER

If you’re a feminist that loves smut and loves a hand necklace, a pearl necklace, or a… Well, I can’t think of any other necklaces. Then enjoy flicking through the pages. Just remember that some men in real life can be cunts. Fictional men can also be cunts, but at least they can find the clitoris.

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Trigger warnings include violence, trafficking of women, spicy hate sex, death, blood… You know the idea. It’s a dark MC/Vigilante romance.

SAVAGE SISTERS MC

We are both adored and feared, captivating yet dangerous. With an irresistible allure and commanding presence, we show no mercy to those who cross us. We are the Savage Sisters MC: seductively fierce and utterly formidable.

PROLOGUE

MORRIGAN, AGED 14

“Bring her in here. Where the hell is Kathy?” Bernie asks as they lay her down on the desk. Her voice fractures with panic, and I just stand there, not moving, hiding in my mom’s office closet. It’s a place I often hide to prank my mom. It was a game we often played on each other, but not today. As I stand here watching Bernie press her hands to a wound on my mother’s stomach, my heart lurches. Even with all her efforts, it does nothing to stop the constant flow of blood that is cascading down to the floor, coating Bernie’s feet.

Bile rises in my throat as I clench my hands into tight fists at my side, whilst tears pool in my eyes. I push on the door and step into the office, catching Bernie’s attention as her eyes turn to me. Her eyes fill with sympathy, and as my gaze flickers to my mom on the desk, her face pales and her eyes grow wide with fear. I walk toward her, and each step feels like a heavy weight at my feet.

“Mom,” I whimper, my voice wavering as my heart thunders in my chest.

Her eyes come to mine, and as she holds out her trembling hand that is covered in her own blood, I quickly place my hand in hers, holding on tight, afraid that at any moment I will lose her.

“Don’t stop fighting, and don’t stop protecting those who need it. Show no weakness,” she rasps, her breath ragged.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Who did this?” I ask.

“He’s being dealt with,” Bernie states firmly.

“Where’s Kathy? She needs to help Mom,” I state, followed by a desperate sob ripping from my throat.

“Mori,” my mom chokes out. I look down at her, and she gives me a pained smile. “I love you, my brave warrior. Fight the wars no one else will fight. Show no mercy.” She coughs, blood splattering on her lips.

“Mom,” I cry. “Fight with me, Mom.” My heart feels like it’s splintering into a thousand pieces. “You and me, Mom. Please. Please,” I beg, my tears now endlessly falling.

Her eyes become heavy. “I love you,” she breathes. Her chest stops moving, and her head rolls to the side, her hand becoming limp in mine.

“No, no, no. Mom!” I cry, shaking her shoulder. “Mom!” I scream. “Wake up! Mom!” I rasp, my voice breaking.

“Shit,” I hear from behind me, and as I turn my head, I see Kathy standing there, her eyes wide in shock.

“Save her! Kathy, save her!” I demand, my heart raging in my chest. This moment doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real!

Kathy’s tear-filled eyes come to mine, sympathy and heartache staring back at me. “Morrigan. I—” she states.

“No,” I refuse, shaking my head.

Kathy swallows. “She’s gone. I’m sorry,” she states, her voice trembling.

I shake my head in complete denial. “Morrigan,” Bernie calls softly. I look at her, allowing the pain, heartbreak, and anger to shred me apart inside. “I’m sorry, she’s gone,” Bernie adds.

I storm out of the room and take off running to the basement, hearing voices coming from the room at the end of the hall. It’s the room I was never allowed in, the room where I had heard big men scream and cry like pathetic animals. I push through the door, and as my eyes land on a man tied to a chair in the centre of the room, I don’t slow, and I don’t hesitate as I set my sight on him. He’s her lover, the man she made the exception for, the one that held her heart.

“Morrigan, you’re not suppo—” Julie tries to tell me, but as the tears roll down my cheeks, as the pain and anger at losing my mom pumps through my veins, I swipe a blade off the table as I approach him.

“Mori, what’s a little thing like you going to d—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Fuck, he doesn’t deserve to finish that sentence. I slash the blade clean through his neck with all the anger and devastation he’s caused me. He chokes and lets out a gargling sound as he struggles to breathe through the blood that is filling his neck.

“Only she was allowed to call me that. Only her, and now she’s dead because of you,” I seethe, my throat raw with emotion as tears trickle down my cheeks. I hear the gasps of shock behind me, of people calling my name, trying to offer their support, but I don’t want it. I don’t move as I stare him down, watching as his life fades from his eyes.

Once I know he’s dead, I turn and allow the final tear to fall before I walk out of the room, not answering anyone. They all look at me in concern as I pass. I step outside and sit down on a bench in the crisp night air, vowing to myself and the stars above that I will kill any man that ever lays a hand on any woman, that has ever abused or raped a woman. I will continue to fight the fight my mother started. I will be brave, and I will be the warrior she wanted me to be. Protecting those who need it.

Most importantly, I vow to never make the same mistake my mother did. She was a fool for letting a man get close enough to her to not only manipulate her but also to take her life, therefore taking her away from me.

Love was for fools, and fools got themselves killed.

CHAPTER ONE

MORRIGAN

PRESENT DAY

Banging echoes again and again. “Mor! It’s important,” I hear Eden call out. I blink before rubbing my eyes, exhaling a breath.

“What is it?” I ask, squinting. I lean up on my elbows and look down at the tangle of legs with mine.

Eden walks in, her eyes taking in the scene before her. She sighs, rolling her eyes. “Do you think you could not keep all the lap dogs to yourself? Some of us would like to get laid too, you know,” she complains.

I smirk as I look at the three sleeping men in my bed with me. “I highly recommend having all three at once. Daniel here has quite the tongue.” I sigh at the memory while my fingers play with his hair.

“His name is Nathaniel,” Eden corrects me.

“Close enough.” I shrug. “So, what is it that has you charging into my room at the crack of dawn?” I ask as I sit further up the bed.

“It’s eleven am,” Eden quips. “Anyway, we’ve had an influx of member applications.”

I roll my eyes. “We always have an influx of applications,” I point out as I reach over James. At least, I think his name is James. Maybe it’s Jack or Jamie? Reaching for the packet of cigarettes and lighter, I pull one out and light it before looking back at Eden. “You can’t moan at me for smoking. I’m in my own room,” I point out, knowing how much she hates it.

She scrunches up her nose at the smell before she continues. “Amongst the applications is Isabella Sparks,” she states. I pause with my cigarette a millimetre from my lips. Eden smiles and nods. “Right?”

I scramble as I give the men a swift kick to wake them up as I clamber out of bed completely naked. “Get out!” I bark.

“But Mor,” one of them complains.

“Don’t say my name unless I say you can. Now go get showered and make some breakfast,” I demand sharply.

“Lunch,” Eden corrects me. “We are closer to lunch than we are to breakfast,” she points out. They don’t respond. They just do as they are told. I can’t help but admire their naked forms as they leave.

“You treat them like sex objects,” Eden states, taking a seat on the armchair as I walk into the shower.

“And that’s a problem because? It’s okay for a man to do it, but not a woman?” I counter as I stand under the hot spray.

“It’s not okay for anyone to do it,” Eden argues.

“Okay, back to the matter in hand,” I say, steering her off that topic. “Why has she signed up?” I ask, intrigued.

Isabella Sparks is the daughter of a businessman, Henry Sparks, owner and founder of Sparks Enterprises. He’s rich and powerful, with a long string of endless rape allegations against him; all that miraculously disappears. The women suddenly drop all charges, and when we have tried to contact them, they are nowhere to be found. Of course, he spins it that it’s women just after his money. Well, all except one: Maria. When we found her, she was a mess, broken, couldn’t sleep, and feared for her life. She feared that if she slept, he would send his men for her. We took her in and helped her. She was doing well, growing stronger, until she went to the market one day and didn’t come back. Police found her down the side ally of the market with a needle sticking out of her arm. Apparent overdose. She never took drugs, but that didn’t matter to the police. They just saw it as a sad and desperate girl who ended her life. I was there when the police were called, and I saw her body slumped between two trash cans like she was nothing more than garbage. Her haunted blue eyes seared into my very soul, and I vowed that I would find a way one day to seek vengeance for her and the other women that have never been seen or found again.

“She says she has information,” Eden answers, drawing me out of my thoughts.

I reach for the shampoo and start washing my hair. “We will need more than that before trusting her. She’s been Daddy’s little princess the entire time. I find it hard to believe that she suddenly wants to stab him in the back,” I point out as I rinse my dark brown hair.

“Yeah, I know. But we have to at least meet with her to find out more, right? We can’t just ignore it,” Eden adds.

I finish washing before I turn the shower off. Stepping out of the shower, I grab a towel and wrap it around my body before I walk through my room and open my wardrobe. I pull out a black tank top and black skinny jeans before grabbing my underwear. I drop the towel and start getting dressed.

“Jesus Christ, I get it. You’re fucking hot. I don’t need you to shove it in my face,” Eden scoffs.

“It’s just a weapon, remember that,” I remind her as I pull on my jeans.

“Yeah, I know. It’s the one weapon we have as power over men,” Eden mutters, rolling her eyes.

She pauses for a moment as she looks down at her lap. “What is it?” I ask.

Her gaze flickers up to me. “Do you ever think we will find love?” she asks wistfully. I roll my eyes. She has always been the romantic of the group.

“Love is for fools…” I start.

“And fools end up dead. Yeah, I know, I know,” she sighs. “But do you ever think those fools died happy, at least?” she adds.

“No,” I answer bluntly. “You don’t need a man to be happy, and you certainly don’t need love. Well, not in the way you want it,” I state as I zip up my boots.

“Who says I wanted it? It was just a question. I’m curious, is all,” she mutters. I smirk. She’s full of shit.

“Come on, I need a coffee before we try to figure out what to do with the asshole’s daughter,” I state, spritzing on some perfume before striding out of my room.

The smell of coffee floats its way to me, tempting me like a vampire to blood. I grab my mug and fill it with the beautiful nectar. Holding it close to my lips, I sniff in the aroma before taking a sip. I groan as the caffeine flows through my soul.

“God damn, that’s good coffee,” I sigh.

“You know I worry about your addiction to coffee,” Bernie tuts, handing me a plate with a cinnamon bun on it.

I grin and take it, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “Morning, Bernie.” I smile.

She huffs as she places her hands on her hips. Bernie was the last original member. She was my mom’s best friend, and she was there with her until the end. I take a large bite out of the cinnamon bun and moan.

“Damn, you just get better and better at these,” I compliment through a mouthful.

“Don’t try and distract me with flattery. I know two of the lap dogs spent the night with you last night.” She tuts.

“Three, actually.” I shrug before taking another bite.

She rolls her eyes. “It’s damn near midday. Sleeping away half the day.”

“I was tired, up most of the night fucking. A girl needs her rest,” I state, fighting a smile as I purposefully stoke her annoyance.

“Morrigan!” she snaps. “Think of the diseases.”

“Ew, Bernie, you know the lap dogs are all checked regularly,” Eden interjects.

“Well, it ain’t right,” Bernie says, scrunching up her nose.

I drink more of her coffee and give her a pointed look. “Don’t come at me with the whole Mother Teresa thing, Bernie. I know exactly what you and Mom would get up to,” I counter.

Bernie blushes. “I don’t know what you mean,” she blatantly lies.

“That rock band that you both invited back here,” I state.

“They were just staying the night. Their tour bus broke down,” Bernie defends.

“I suppose the same thing happened to the basketball team, the hockey team, and that biker club that was passing through,” I list off.

Eden snorts a laugh, and Bernie coughs, clearing her throat. “Well, times were different then,” she says dismissively.

“Clearly not that different, or the Savage Sisters MC wouldn’t have to still be here,” I point out.

Bernie shakes her head. “Well, clearly things change and evolve apart from men.”

“Preach!” Eden cheers.

“So, what’s on today’s schedule?” Bernie asks.

I lick the frosting off my fingers. “Well, I’m going for a ride, and then I’ve got a self-defence class. All the while, we need to think about what to do with Isabella Sparks.”

“What do you want the rest of us to do?” Eden asks.

I shrug. “Might be a good idea to look into the other applications.”

Eden nods. “I will get Betsy to do background checks on them.”

“You know, with all these applications, we will soon need a bigger Sanctuary,” Bernie points out.

“I know.” I sigh, rubbing my temple. “But a bigger Sanctuary means more attention. Attention we don’t want. As it stands, we are just a woman-only MC. Men don’t look twice at us, thinking we are just here with our stupid little hobby.”

“But we also can’t turn women away. That isn’t what we are about,” Eden states.

“Well, then maybe we need to look at expanding, and I don’t mean the Sanctuary. I mean, here. If there are more of us here, then there are more of us to fight, meaning the more we can help,” I suggest as I down the last of my coffee. “Right, I need to go. Meet back later unless you are coming to self-defence?” I ask them both.

“Last time I went there I was limping for a week. I think I will give it a miss,” Bernie says with a tight smile.

“If we are done in time, Betsy and I will join you,” Eden agrees.

A loud crashing sound comes from the kitchen. “What in the world was that?” Bernie screeches.

“Oh, I told the lap dogs to make me breakfast. My bad,” I wince.

“For god’s sake, they will burn the place down!” Bernie tuts before storming off to the kitchen.

“Okay, that’s my cue to leave. Might catch you at the defence class later.” I wave over my shoulder and walk outside towards my baby, a Yamaha R6 racer. She was in tech black and built for speed. I pull my fitted biker jacket and black helmet on, along with my gloves. I swing my leg over her and press the ignition, feeling and hearing her engine roar to life. A thrill radiates through me every time. I kick back the kickstand and pull away. As soon as I hit the open road, I let her rip, speeding down the open road as the warm summer sun beats down on me.

I ride for an hour, just losing myself in the thrill of the freedom riding gives me. Needing a drink, I pull up to a coffeehouse. It has small tables out the front with people sitting there enjoying their coffees in the sun. I cut the engine and get off the bike, removing my helmet before I shake my hair out. My dark hair is wavy from letting it dry naturally, and as I go to make my way into the coffeehouse, a man comments.

“I got something here you might want to ride later, sweetheart,” he drawls.

I look at him and see a balding man with a potbelly. I curl my lip in disgust. “Thanks, but I think I will pass.” I brush him off as I walk in to order my coffee.

I also grab a brownie to have with my coffee. Bernie often comments on my weakness for sweet treats, especially cakes and pastries. I’d happily just live off my coffee and cake every day for the rest of my life. I take a seat outside, a little away from the pervy man, and eat my brownie and drink my coffee, just enjoying the sun on my face.

“I bet she sucks like a demon,” I hear one of the guys mutter.

“Yeah, bro. I’d be having her gagging and begging me to stop,” another states.

I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes. They’re not worth it, they’re not worth it, I mentally repeat to myself.

“She’d only be good for fucking, though. She ain’t wife material,” the first guy adds.

I grit my teeth and attempt to drink my coffee and not throw it at them.

“Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t look like she knows how to even cook. Fuck, I don’t want my steaks being overcooked.”

“True, although if she fucks as good as she looks, I might be able to forgive the overcooked steak,” the other snorts.

All my self-resolve snaps. I stand and walk past two women, who give me a sympathetic look. I almost want to tell them they’re aiming their sympathy at the wrong person, because in a minute both of those men will be on the floor crying out for their mommies.

Their snickering dies as I get closer. The balding one with a potbelly leans back in his chair with a smirk on his face.

“Well, well, well. What can I do for you, gorgeous?” he asks, his eyes sweeping over my body, and I immediately want to shove my fingers in his eyes and yank them from his head for looking at me in such a way.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your comments,” I state.

He arches his brow, his gaze full of intrigue. Like those comments would just turn me on, and I would throw myself at him and his friend. Fucking morons. “Oh?” he quips, the corners of his mouth twitching in an arrogant smile. Prick.

I seductively bend down, my face inches from his. He adjusts himself and spreads his legs further apart. Does he honestly think I would just drop to my knees and suck him off? Since when did men become so delusional? I rest my hands on either side of the armrests, running my tongue across my bottom lip. His eyes follow the movement.

“Your words did something to me. They made me feel things,” I whisper.

He glances a look at his mate, as if to say I’m in with a chance here. “I’ve often been told I’m good with words,” he says with a proud look on his face.

Tired of this game, I bring up my knee, keeping a tight grip on the arms of the chair before I slam my stiletto-booted foot down on his dick. He lets out a high-pitched scream in pain as I press the heel in further.

“You need to change the way you speak and treat women,” I seethe. His mate shifts from his chair, and I look and glare at him. “You come any nearer, and I will drive my stiletto through his pathetic little testicle,” I threaten.

His friend soon sits back down. “What the fuck do you want, you crazy bitch?” he pants through gritted teeth, his face red in pain.

“Now, that isn’t how you speak to a woman, is it?” I growl in warning.

“You’re playing with fire. I will fucking have you, bitch,” he sneers the threat, but I don’t miss the hint of fear in his eyes as I shift my boot slightly.

“Now, we both know that isn’t true, because if you lunge forward now, my pretty little stiletto heel will drive right into your precious little testicles. What is going to happen is you will behave, you will show all women the respect they deserve, and you will not speak of them like they are objects for your enjoyment, and you will not touch a woman without permission. All are very simple rules to live by, and you may even find a lady liking you in the future. But you know what no woman likes? A misogynistic prick with a tiny dick and one testicle,” I say with a grin. He swallows.

“Do we have an understanding?” I ask.

He gives me a brief nod, his face looking like a scolded child.

“Oh, and don’t call women crazy for standing up for themselves and for what they believe in. You wouldn’t do it to a man. Do yourself a favour; go and read a book on feminism and female rights. In fact, add that to our understanding. Educate yourself and your little chums here,” I add before slowly removing my boot from his crotch. He groans and immediately cups his dick.

I smile brightly, the encounter lifting my spirits. The ladies sitting on the other side stare at me in awe. I pull out a card and hand it to them. “Women’s self-defence classes. You should come along.”

CHAPTER TWO

MORRIGAN

“You need to throw all your weight behind the hit. Remember to follow through with your fist,” I instruct as I slam my fist into one of our dummies.

A woman with curly red hair raises her hand. “Er, I thought this was self-defence. It kind of feels like we are attacking.” She shrugs.

I notice a few of the other women looking at me, clearly thinking the same. “Okay, raise your hand if you have ever been attacked by a man?” I ask the class of twenty women. Over half of them raise their hands, but the curly redhead doesn’t. I place my hands on my hips. “Listen up, because I will only say this once. You are here to defend yourself if you are attacked. For those that are fortunate not to have been attacked, there is no reasoning with an attacker. You cannot plead with them. They are there for one reason only: to either mug you, rape you, or beat you.”

“Or kidnap you,” a woman states quietly, her cheeks turning crimson as she averts her gaze from me. Her honey-brown hair drapes over her face, as if she is trying to hide away. That’s when I notice the scars on her arms.

“You’re right,” I affirm, looking away from her to the rest of the group before continuing. “You could have one attacker, two, three, or more. I’m here to try and teach you the best way you can put up a fight. The world is dangerous, especially for women,” I state, pausing.

The redhead huffs, rolling her eyes. “It’s dangerous anyway, not just for women,” she argues.

I fold my arms over my chest. “To a point, you are right. Let me ask you a simple question: do you have kids?” I ask.

She nods, smiling. “I have a fourteen-year-old daughter and a seventeen-year-old son.”

“That’s great. Now would you allow your daughter to go out at night when it’s dark? It doesn’t have to be late, but when it’s dark and you walk home alone?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Of course not!” she states with horror at the mere suggestion of it.

“Okay, same time. Say it could be eight pm at night; it’s winter, so it’s dark. Your son walks home alone. You okay with that?” I counter.

She opens her mouth to answer, but quickly closes it. “I’d still track him on the app,” she answers.

I nod. “And that’s because you care, you love your kids, and you want to protect them. What you said proves my point. A woman should feel safe to walk home at night if she should choose. Instead, we can’t. If we do, we go in pairs or a group, or we are escorted home by male friends or parents. We are living in 2025, and even now if a man wanted to rape us, he would probably get away with it.” I pause. “If a woman goes to the police to report a rape, she is asked if she was drinking alcohol, she is asked what she was wearing, if she led him on in any way. Without DNA or other evidence, it’s our word against theirs. So, use this class to train, learn how to defend yourself. Put an end to being vulnerable and start fucking fighting back,” I snap. I turn and stand back in front of the dummy, ready to show them another move. “Any more questions before I continue the class?” I ask.

They shake their heads no and copy my stance, ready to learn the next move.

At the end of the session, I grab a towel and dab the sweat off my face before grabbing my water bottle and taking a long glug. I spot the shy woman from earlier, bagging up her towel and water bottle.

“Hey,” I call out before walking over to her. Her head snaps up, her hair shifting slightly to reveal a thick scar above her eye trailing down to the top of her cheekbone. She quickly moves her hair to cover it again. I give her a soft smile. “When were you kidnapped?” I ask bluntly.

She blanches at the direct question. “On my way home from soccer practice,” she states. “I was seventeen, and they kidnapped me for six days.”

I nod, hating how cold her tone is before I hand her a card. “If you need anything, then just call that number,” I state, pointing to it.

She looks down and reads it, frowning. “I-is this a club?” she asks. “I don’t ride a bike.”

I grin. “Just call if you need anything. We don’t discriminate if you can’t ride a bike.” She gives me a small smile and walks away.

I grab my cell and water and take a seat, waiting for the next class. Two messages from Eden are displayed on my screen.

E: Was this you?

I click the link and read a social media post about how this out of control, PMS-ing woman attacked a man for no reason. The anonymous post continues to say how I am a bra-burning, man-hating bitch that just needs to get laid. I grin, but then I see there are comments.

AlanB52: Sounds like she needs putting in her place. I wouldn’t stand for this.

Jerry64: I really don’t understand the women these days. They make out that women have been mistreated. Oh, it must be so hard cooking and cleaning. We provide for them. They wouldn’t last two minutes working like we do.

Bev49: Whoever wrote this post, it’s obvious why she crushed your nuts. #nutcracker

AlanB53: @Bev49 I bet you think you’re funny, when clearly, you’re just a bitter old hag.

Bev49: @AlanB52 I’m hilarious, but not quite as funny as this post. #smallpeensyndrome #smalldicks

I snort a laugh before reading Eden’s other message.

E: Please tell me you weren’t wearing your cut.

M: Okay, I wasn’t wearing my cut.

I hit send, knowing she will be rolling her eyes. We made an agreement not to wear anything showing our club’s logo to prevent any repercussions.

E: We need to keep things quiet, especially while we are close to getting Sparks.

I huff, hating that she’s right. It was fine for the right people to know who we were, but we definitely don’t need Sparks knowing.

M: Sorry, he was just a real asshole.

E: There will always be assholes. Just try and contain the urge to kick their ass.

M: Fine. I will try, but I make no promises.

I put my phone back in my bag as the next class files in.

I arrive back at the Sanctuary, but before heading inside, I walk around the back towards the large oak tree that stands in the centre. I take a seat, leaning my back against it. “Hey, Mom,” I sigh.

We had planted the oak, along with my mom’s ashes. Every day I stop by before going inside. I just sit and tell her about my day, or sometimes I just sit in silence.

“So, I crushed this dude’s nuts with my boot today,” I tell her with a smile on my lips. My smile slips as that familiar pang of hurt swarms my chest. I rub my hand over my heart, trying to ease it. “I still miss you every day. I thought it was supposed to get easier. Every night when I close my eyes, I still see you, and I still see the night you died. I’m trying to be strong, fuck, I’m trying. But I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry. Why should people like the asshole today get to live and you had to die?” I rasp, anger and grief clawing its way up my throat. Ten years may have passed, but it still felt as raw as it did the day I found her. I keep busy, keeping my mind distracted. Bernie often tells me I never grieved properly. What’s the correct way? I pour all my grief, all my rage and pain into fighting men like the man that killed my mother. If that’s not grieving correctly, then I don’t want to do it the right way. My way, the world gets justice, and my way helps others like my mom.

“Mor,” Bernie calls as she approaches, her gaze soft as she sees me sitting at the base of the tree. I look up at her. “You know, I come out here and talk to her every day, too,” she states as she takes a seat on the bench to the side of the tree.

“I know.” I nod.

Bernie sighs. “I update her about you every day.”

I look at her. “I speak to her every day. She knows how I’m doing,” I state.

Bernie shakes her head. “I tell her how you’re really doing. Your mom was my best friend, and there wasn’t anything we didn’t talk about. Like how you fuck all through the night until you pass out asleep because you can’t just fall asleep.”

“You been listening through my door getting your kicks, Bernie?” I tease.

She scrunches up her face. “God, no. I used to change your diapers, but I ain’t deaf, nor am I blind. I remember catching you after your mom passed, making out with that boy from college in the back of his car.” She tuts.

“He was hot,” I state.

“You were fourteen, and he was eighteen!” she exclaims.

I snort. “He didn’t know that. I told him I was sixteen.”

“I know. The poor kid’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when I told him how old you were. I swear, you made me grey,” she complains, running her fingers through her long silver hair. “You know your mom would want you to be happy, to find love, to have kids,” she adds. “If kids were what you wanted.”

“Don’t, Bernie. Look what happened to Mom. She found love twice. The first time, my dear old dad beat the shit out of her, and then she finally trusted someone years later, and he fucking killed her. Leaving her kid to grow up without her,” I snap before getting to my feet. “I love Mom, I do, but her falling in love was fucking selfish. You saw the signs, and you warned her. She ignored them, knowing them from before, and it got her taken away from me.” I turn away, locking down my emotions. I rub my temple. “I don’t want to talk about it, Bernie. Just let me be,” I breathe.

“That’s the problem, my girl. You never talk about it. Your mom may have been a love-struck fool, and it cost her life, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love you with her whole heart. She didn’t put you second. She didn’t plan on falling in love, and she didn’t plan on falling for him. That doesn’t mean it will end that way for you. Live your life, Morrigan; don’t just survive it.”

I get to my feet, brushing off the dirt from my behind. “I’m not just surviving my life, Bernie. I’m living it to help other people,” I snap before storming off inside.

“Mor!” Bernie shouts after me. I lift my hand and flip her off as I go. I won’t admit it to her, but her words hit something inside me. I push those feelings deep down and head to the bar, opening a bottle of whiskey before I pour myself a double shot. I knock it back, closing my eyes as it burns its way down my throat.

“Er, bad time?” I hear Eden ask. I open my eyes to see her standing there with her tablet in her hand.

I shake my head nope. “No, all good. What is it?” I ask.

She shifts on her feet. “Well, Betsy has been digging, and if you’re sure you’re okay, we will meet Isabella Sparks tonight.

That has me tilting my head with intrigue. “I’m more than okay. Let’s go talk to Betsy,” I state assertively.

CHAPTER THREE

MORRIGAN

Stepping into Betsy’s room is like stepping into something from a sci-fi movie; there are four computer screens, a keyboard, and machines I don’t even know what they are or dare ask, because like fuck would I understand if she even told me. I say it’s her room. She doesn’t live here. There’s a small pull-out couch on the far side with a blanket and pillow for when she works around the clock.

“Hey,” I say as we walk in. She takes a bite of her burrito and waves her hand for us to sit, not even acknowledging us. I look around at the dark room and see empty packets of fast food and energy drinks littered around her feet. I sniff. The room smells like stale food and feet. “Urgh. You want to open a window?” I suggest, covering my nose as I walk straight over to the window to open it.

I open the blinds, and the room immediately fills with sunlight. I push open the window and take a deep breath in. “How do you live like this?” Eden asks, while mock-gagging, holding up a Chinese takeout box with mouldy food in it.

Betsy looks over her shoulder. “Do I or do I not get the job done?” she quips.

I take a seat on the pull-out couch and smirk. “You do get the work done.” I nod in agreement.

“Exactly.” Betsy nods, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before continuing to devour her burrito. I smirk. Betsy is incredibly pretty beneath the filth of her room. She has deep, rich brown hair, which is currently piled on her head in a messy bun. She has a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Rich hazel eyes, surrounded in metal gold-framed circle glasses. Her skin is milky white, probably from the hours she hides away in here. I don’t think she ever sees much daylight. She’s petite with a curvy figure, which she often hides under baggy hoodies or her favourite band T-shirts. She usually keeps herself to herself, never once making use of the lap dogs. Even after being here for a good few years, she still gets nervous around guys. Not that I blame her.

“You could get the lap dogs to come in here and clean up for you?” Eden suggests.

“No!” Betsy snaps. Her eyes are wide, and I can see anxiety flickering through them. Her cheeks heat. “Er, I mean... No, thanks. It’s okay. I will clean up when I get around to it,” she adds before looking back at one of her computer screens.

I glance a brief look at Eden, who in return gives me a whoops expression. “You’re right, sorry,” Eden says softly, apologising to Betsy.

I clear my throat. “So, come on then, what is the plan with the infamous Isabella Sparks?” I ask them both, diverting the conversation.

“Well, I’ve done all the relevant checks. She is still receiving Daddy’s money every month, and there appears to be no drama on her social media. Nothing. So, I’m not so sure why she’s reaching out,” Betsy says with a shrug.

I lean back on the couch and look to Eden. “And you still think it’s a good idea to meet her. What if this is all her father’s doing? A setup,” I press.

Eden rolls her eyes dramatically. “Come on, Mor. He doesn’t even know we exist. Why would a little woman’s group even be on his radar? I’m telling you, she knows something and is reaching out.”

“Okay, if you say so, then I will trust you on this. But where is the planned meet? Because I don’t entirely trust her. I want it somewhere public,” I state.

Eden types away on her tablet. “Already set up. We are meeting her at this bar tonight at eight pm,” she says, turning her tablet around to show me the bar.

I roll my eyes. “The biker bar in Mufftown?” I sigh.

Eden grins and nods. “Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve been there. And if Raven is working, then you know she is generous with her shots.” Eden nudges her shoulder into mine.

“I won’t be drinking. I will be riding,” I state.

“Actually, I’ve already told the lap dogs we require their chauffeur services.” She grins.

“Jesus, is this an actual arranged meeting, or are you looking to get trashed?” I ask.

“A bit of both.” She shrugs. “And you’re coming too, Betsy,” she demands.

Betsy swings around in her computer chair, shaking her head back and forth. “Er, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she declines.

“No, Eden is right. If we are all there, Isabella may take to one of us more. And you know I’m not exactly going to be full of welcoming love. So, it would be good to have you there as a buffer. Plus, once Eden has had a shot or two of tequila, you know the night is over,” I point out.

“I am not a lightweight,” Eden gasps, placing her hand on her chest.

I arch my brow at her. “You drank two whiskey and cokes, then proceeded to dance on the table, swinging your top over your head,” I argue.

“They were more like triple shots in those drinks,” she counters defensively.

“Er, I don’t think I will be needed,” Betsy states quietly.

“You’re coming. You don’t need to dress up or anything. You know the guys that drink in that bar are more than okay. Plus, they’re all taken, so you don’t need to worry about someone hitting on you,” I remind her.

Betsy sighs and nods, giving in. “Okay, fine,” she relents.

I smile. “Good. Let me relax for a minute, then I will get changed, grab some food, and then we will head out,” I say as I walk towards the door.

“Relax?” Betsy asks, her brow furrowed.

“Seriously, the three of them you had last night not enough for you?” Eden scoffs, shaking her head back and forth.

“I only need one, and yes, I feel a little tense right now,” I answer defensively.

“Seriously, have a wank like a normal woman,” Eden teases.

“Why wank when I can have the real thing?” I smirk, closing the door behind me.

I walk into the main bar, catching one of the lap dogs from last night. The one with the good tongue. “You, Daniel, I need to let off some tension,” I state.

He stands, a grin playing on his lips. “It’s Nathaniel,” he corrects.

I look him up and down, crossing my arms over my chest as he approaches. He’s good-looking, has a lean, athletic body, dark brown hair, and brown eyes. I don’t know what he does for a living, nor what his life is outside of this place. We don’t pay them to be here. They choose to be here. I can’t understand why they would want to help us and serve us in the ways we desire for nothing, but I’m not complaining. The only thing we ask is they sign an NDA; not that they are privy to anything important, but just in case they see or witness anything.

“Listen, I will be blunt with you. I don’t care what your name is. I only care about you satisfying my needs. Reckon you can deal with that?” I ask.

His lips twitch into a smile as he takes my hand and places it over his jean-covered crotch, where I can feel his already raging hard dick. I give it a slight squeeze, and he groans in response.

“As impressive as this is, I’m not planning to reward you. I want you on your knees before me with your mouth buried in my pussy. There may be time for you to get your release, but I can’t make any promises,” I say in a low sultry voice. I watch as he swallows, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip.

“Then lead the way,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal.

I grin, and after releasing my hold on his crotch, I turn and walk towards my room, with my lap dog following eagerly at my heels.

I step into my room, letting him close the door behind him. I bend down and unzip my boots, kicking them off while I keep my eyes trained on him. As I unbutton my jeans, sliding them down in one, along with my underwear, he watches my every move. I lift my top over my head, chucking it on the floor beside me before I reach behind and unhook my bra, letting the straps slowly glide down my arms until it falls to the floor. I’m now standing there completely naked before him. I click my fingers and point to the floor in front of me. He walks towards me, a smile playing on his lips as he kneels before me.

“Remove your shirt,” I demand. He grabs the hem of his fitted white T-shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing his toned muscled body. “Bend one knee,” I order. He does as I’ve asked, and I place my foot on his thigh, baring myself to him. I thread my fingers through his short brown hair. “Eat my pussy, and don’t stop until I say,” I demand. His hands reach around, gripping my behind as he hovers his mouth over my centre, looking up at me, his eyes burning with desire. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I snap as I feel his breath tickle across my skin.

He smirks before slowly gliding his tongue along my seam to my clit. I release a slow breath as pleasure ignites across my skin. As soon as his tongue circles my clit, my grip tightens in his hair as a moan leaves my lips. He groans, working his tongue harder and faster, feasting on me like I’m his favourite meal. My hips buck, pressing against his mouth as I chase my release.

“Don’t stop, just like that,” I breathe. Closing my eyes, I relish in the feel of every stroke, circle, and suck as he brings my body closer and closer to climax. “Yes!” I cry out. My orgasm is close to irrupting, but he doesn’t let up as my muscles tighten while my orgasm teeters on the brink. I’m vaguely aware of him removing one his hands from my behind, then suddenly I feel two of his fingers plunging inside me. I gasp as he works his fingers in time with his mouth. Like someone has just lit a rocket, my orgasm soars, exploding into utter ecstasy. “Fuck! Yes!” I cry out. He slows his movements, letting me ride out my orgasm before eventually stopping.

I look down at him, a smile spreading across his face. My arousal coats his chin. I run my thumb over his chin before pushing it between his lips. He sucks my thumb. “Good boy,” I praise. After removing my thumb from his mouth, I take a step towards my bed and climb up onto all fours, leaving my bare ass and pussy on full display. I turn and look over my shoulder at him to see him still kneeling on the floor.

“Get over here and fuck me,” I demand. He gets to his feet quickly and unbuckles his jeans as he approaches. He pulls out a condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth, and sheathes it over his thick, hard length. He grabs my hip with one hand and positions his dick at my entrance. “You have seven minutes to make me cum,” I tell him.

“No problem.” He pants as he thrusts into me. I cry out, and using both his hands, he firmly grips my hips and slams himself into me, over and over again in a demanding rhythm. It’s hard, brutal, and fast. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to build within me as he pounds into me. My walls begin to tighten, and he growls, feeling I’m close. “Fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans.

“Fuck me harder,” I breathe.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth while still fucking me.

I glare at him over my shoulder. “I said, fuck me harder,” I seethe.

His jaw is set tight as he grabs my arms, pulling them back behind me. I arch my back as he deepens his thrusts, fucking me so hard it’s almost bruising.

“Yes!” I cry out as my orgasm explodes through my body. “Oh, fuck!” I scream.

“Fuck!” he roars as he climaxes. Releasing his hold on my arms, I fall forward, resting my face on the mattress while still kneeling. He gently strokes his hand around the curve of my behind while gently placing kisses along my spine. “I swear, I’ve never had sex as good as that with anyone before. It’s like you were made for me,” he murmurs between kisses.

I stiffen and push up before I move forward, disconnecting us. I turn to face him. “You’re right. That was a good fuck; you can go now,” I say dismissively.

He stands there, a flash of hurt flickering in his eyes, but I’m not about to pretend this is more than what it is. It’s just sex, nothing more. “Jesus, Mor, at least let me remove the fucking condom before you dismiss me,” he snaps before turning and striding to the bathroom.

I get off the bed and grab my clean clothes, wrapping my body in a towel. He walks back out into the room, his jeans pulled up but left undone. His eyes sweep over me. “You know I could help you shower,” he offers with a wink, his mood switching quickly.

“I think this needs to calm down,” I state, gesturing with my finger between us.

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.

“I mean, you are getting too heavy, and that’s not what this is. I need an itch to be scratched, and I get you or one of the other lap dogs to scratch it,” I state firmly, needing the lines to be clear.

His lip curls in disgust when I refer to him as a lap dog. “Don’t call me that,” he says, shaking his head.

I shrug. “It’s what you are, and it’s what the other guys are. You knew this. You were under the understanding of the rules, which you agreed to. I’m not changing any of that,” I point out.

He runs his hand through his hair. “You feel nothing.” It wasn’t a question. He was stating it.

I stare at him blankly. “I’m sorry if you thought there was more to it.”

He scoffs. “You kept choosing me; I thought we had a connection. Something the other guys didn’t.”

“I literally slept with all three of you last night,” I state.

“It was hot, but it was me you cuddled up to, and it was me you chose just now,” he counters.

I sigh. “Look, you’re a nice guy, but I don’t do the relationship thing. I do the fucking. That is it. If you can’t handle that, then you need to rethink being here,” I tell him honestly.

He swallows, pausing for a moment. “I’m good. I guess I just read your signals wrong.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

I give him a brief nod. “Okay, well, I need to get ready. So I might catch you later,” I say dismissively. He nods, giving me a small smile, and leaves. I exhale a long breath before heading into the shower. I’m going to have to give him some distance for a while, which is a shame because out of the three of them, he is the best at oral. After a quick shower to wash away the smell of sex, I change into my black leggings and black tank top. I put back on my favourite stiletto boots and spritz some perfume, quickly grabbing my denim jacket as I leave my room, not bothering to reapply my make-up.

As I walk into the main bar area, Eden’s head snaps up. She rolls her eyes. “You look like a cross between Catwoman and Sandy from Grease.”

I look down at my outfit. “It’s just a black top and leggings.” I shrug.

She shakes her head. “In them heels it’s more than just a black top and leggings.”

“Well, I’m comfy, and I like it, so who gives a shit?” I state.

“And that is why you can pull off any outfit. Your level of fucks is at a perfect zero.” Eden grins.

“Well, that is the perfect level.” I smirk.

Eden laughs as she bumps her shoulder with mine. “Man, I would kill to have your confidence,” she sighs.

“Ahh, don’t mistake my no fucks with confidence, because those are two very different things. Just because I don’t give a fuck what people think of me doesn’t mean I have the confidence,” I point out. “And you could wear this outfit and look good,” I add.

Eden snorts. “With these?” she asks, pointing to her very large and ample chest. “I wear anything that is slightly revealing or clings too much to these, it’s like men have an open invitation to stare. Hell, even women stare. It’s just easier for me to blend into the background when I keep things covered up,” she explains.

“Well, if my hooters were as ample as yours, I’d have those babies jiggling about everywhere.” I laugh, and Eden joins me, shaking her head.

“You have more than enough to jiggle. You don’t need any more.”

“Do I even want to know what you are talking about?” Betsy asks as she comes up behind me.

“We are talking about jiggling our tits,” I say with a straight face.

Betsy pushes her glasses up her nose and rolls her eyes, like she’s not surprised by our conversation.

“Come on, let’s go meet Miss Sparks and hear what she has to say,” I sigh.

“Nathaniel is driving us. He’s waiting out in the van,” Eden states. I let out a groan. Eden pauses and looks at me. “What?” she asks.

“He got a little clingy back in my room. I was going to try and keep my distance from him,” I briefly explain.

“Well, he’s just driving us. You don’t need to fuck him,” Eden says sharply. I blanche a little at her sharp tone, and she shakes her head. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s just driving, so you don’t even need to talk to him,” she adds. “And I hope he gets over it because it would be a shame to lose him,” Eden states.

I smirk. “He’s good with his mouth, isn’t he?”

“Sweet lord, that man deserves awards for what he can do with his tongue,” Eden agrees.

“Can we talk about something that isn’t sex?” Betsy complains.

“How about dicks? Can we talk about dicks?” I ask mockingly. Betsy gives me a look that says she’s about to kick me in the cooter. “Love you.” I grin. She rolls her eyes and climbs into the back of the van. I climb in, feeling Daniel’s eyes on my behind. “Eyes to yourself, Daniel,” I chastise.

“It’s Nathaniel,” Eden whispers in my ear.

“I mean, er, Nathaniel,” I correct myself.

“You know, if you were a man, you’d be a sexist pig,” Betsy states.

I look at her. “If I were a man, I wouldn’t ever have to explain myself,” I counter.

Eden clips her seat belt in. “She’s got a point there.” She nods, agreeing with me.

“You know, maybe you should try enjoying a lap dog. Daniel will happily lie still while you just nestle down on his face. You don’t even have to see his dick,” I say quietly so he doesn’t hear.

“It’s fucking Nathaniel, you twat,” Eden sighs.

“Sorry, I really don’t mean to, but they do sound the same.” I wince in apology.

“It doesn’t matter who he is or how good he is with his tongue. I don’t want any man,” Betsy cuts in.

I look to Eden, and we lean in. “Would you rather a woman? Because there are some bars we could go to and find you someone that appeals to you,” I offer.

Betsy groans and bangs her head against the side of the van. “If someone could just crash into the van now, that would be great,” she mutters to herself.

“Oh honey, it’s okay to be gay. We won’t see you any differently. Be you, be happy,” I coo.

“I’m not gay!” Betsy snaps. “I just don’t want a man in any way. Okay?”

I hold up my hands, palms up in surrender. “Okay, okay. We just love you and want you happy.”

Betsy sighs. “I know, I know.

“How about a good vibrator instead?” Eden suggests.

I click my fingers. “Yes! Who needs a man or woman when you have batteries?” I grin.

Betsy laughs and shakes her head. “Sure, but whatever you buy, I’ve probably already got it.”

“Oooh, our girl is kinky!” I tease.

“Er, I don’t mean to interrupt, but we are ten minutes from our location,” Nathaniel states over his shoulder.

“Okay, thanks, Nathaniel.” I nod.

“There you go! Finally, you got it right,” Eden praises.

CHAPTER FOUR

MORRIGAN

We arrive at the bar, and when I see the line of bikes outside, it has me pining for my own. “She will be here in five minutes,” Eden states from behind me.

We walk in, and the loud music and deep rumbling of bikers talking invades our ears.

“Hey, look what the cat dragged in!” Raven greets us as she spots us. She walks around from behind the bar and pulls me into her arms. “Just as beautiful as your mom.” She grins.

“How are you? How’s the family?” I ask.

“Oh, we are all good. You know how club life can be.” She shrugs. “Go and take a seat out the back. Who am I sending to you?” she asks. Eden quickly loads a picture of Isabella on her phone and shows it to Raven. She nods. “Got it. I will bring your drinks over,” she adds.

“Tequilas all around, please, Raven!” Eden hollers over her shoulder.

“You got it!” Raven laughs.

As we walk through the bar, I spot a few familiar faces as we weave through the tables. My eyes lock on a pair of cold blue eyes, and my lips twitch up at the corners. He stands, waiting for me to approach.

I stop just in front of him and look up. “Fancy seeing you here,” I state mockingly.

He grins. “Good to see you, darlin’,” he drawls.

I cross my arms over my chest. “How’s your wife?” I ask.

His grin deepens. “Ask her yourself.” He gestures to the jukebox on the other side of the bar. He places two fingers in his mouth and whistles to get her attention. Her head snaps up, and she looks over in his direction, but as her eyes land on mine, she squeals excitedly and runs over.

“Morrigan!” she greets me before pulling me into a tight hug. “Fuck, it’s been a long time.”

“Good to see you, Rose,” I reply fondly as he pulls her into his side, holding her possessively close, like I’m going to steal her away. “Seriously, I’m not about to steal her from you. Calm down.” I tut.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Rip here is worse than a fucking dog marking his territory.”

“Just reminding everyone who you belong to,” he growls.

“You know everyone in the bar. I am wearing a cut with it stamped on it that I’m yours, and I have a ring on my finger,” Rose counters, folding her arms across her chest.

Rip smirks, firmly grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her flush against him. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, making her eyes glint with excitement before leaning back, still keeping her close to him.

“Who are you meeting?” he asks, completely changing the subject. I exhale a little cough and clear my throat.

“Not giving you a name,” I state firmly.

He lifts his chin slightly in a nod. “If you need anything, you know where to find us,” he adds.

I give him a nod back. “Appreciated, thanks.”

“Don’t leave it so long next time. I like to hang out with badass women. It keeps him on his toes,” Rose says with a smirk.

“I don’t think you need any help from me keeping him on his toes,” I point out.

Rose grins proudly at that. “You may have a point,” she adds.

I laugh, giving her shoulder a squeeze before walking to the table at the back where Eden and Betsy are sitting, waiting for me.

I take a seat next to Betsy, noting the way she is fidgeting awkwardly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. I nudge her with my shoulder. “Relax. You couldn’t be in a safer place,” I remind her.

“I know. Well, I know you wouldn’t bring me to a place that wouldn’t be safe, and I know that, as we have been here before. It’s just...” She pauses, looking at me. “People,” she states, arching her brow.

My lips tip up into a smile. “People,” I echo back.

She gives me a brief nod. “Lots of people,” she adds, bouncing her leg up and down anxiously.

“As soon as the meeting is over, we will be heading straight back to the sanctuary,” Eden adds, trying her best to reassure Betsy.

I nod in agreement, but as I look across the bar, someone catches my eye. A woman with her hood pulled up, trying to conceal her face. “Ladies, the bogey has landed,” I mutter.

Eden and Betsy follow my line of sight. “Yeah, that’s her,” Eden confirms.

We watch as Raven points her over to our table. She looks across the bar, and when she sees us, she nods her thanks, then makes her way across to us, stopping at the edge of our table. We don’t get up. I’m not about to make her feel comfortable and welcome because, as far as I’m concerned, she has to convince me that she’s worthy of our help.

“Er, hi. Do you mind if I sit?” she asks, her voice delicate and articulate, making it obvious she comes from a privileged life.

Eden gestures to the chair in front of her, and she gives us a soft smile before sitting down. She then pushes her hood back, revealing her golden blonde hair and pale skin, and her lips are pale pink. She looks like a perfect angel, the perfect daughter. She swallows anxiously while clutching the crucifix on her necklace.

I arch a brow. “I’m not sure what he can do right now,” I state firmly. Her round blue eyes land on mine, and her cheeks heat a little as she gives me a small smile.

Raven approaches the table with a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “Here you go, ladies. This should keep you refreshed.” She winks, smiling.

Eden grabs the bottle and starts pouring. “Thanks, Raven, you’re the best,” she yells after her.

Isabelle shifts awkwardly and releases her hold on her necklace, placing her hand in her lap. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that I’ve always found comfort in thinking he’s there.” She shrugs.

I lean back in my chair, my eyes assessing her as I tap my fingers on the table. “You expect me, us, to believe that Isabella Sparks, the daughter of the billionaire and all-round fucking cunt, Henry Sparks, is a church-going, God-loving Christian?” I scoff. I shake my head. “Nah, that may be the image you and your father want to portray to the press and to the world, but behind closed doors, when the cameras aren’t flashing, I bet you are just as dark and fucked up as your father,” I accuse.

Her eyes go wide as she shakes her head back and forth. “No, no. This is me. My entire life I was brought up to attend church. I went to an all-girls Christian boarding school. You have to believe this is me,” she states, her voice breaking and her eyes pleading with me to believe her.

Eden nudges me with her elbow. “She’s telling the truth,” she mutters, holding up her phone to show me the background check she had done on her. “Here, drink this. It will help,” Eden adds as she hands her a shot of tequila.

My gaze flickers back to Isabella. “Start talking about why you reached out. Why do you want our help?” I ask firmly.

She nods, not touching the drink as she wipes away the few tears she had allowed to fall. She clears her throat. “Last month, I returned early from my volunteer work overseas.” She pauses. “The war was getting worse, and it was getting too dangerous for me to be over there.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a modern-day Mother Teresa, aren’t ya?” I quip.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile. “I just do what I can,” she adds. “When I returned home there were cars everywhere. I assumed Father was throwing one of his charity balls. I didn’t want to disturb him.” She pauses. “I entered the house through the servants’ quarters.” I snort out a huff at that statement. Her eyes snap to mine. Ignoring me, she continues. “Anyway, I made my way through the kitchen, expecting there to be food ready for whatever event my father was throwing, but it was empty. Not a single chef or member of staff was there. It was extremely odd. I made my way through the house, about to take myself upstairs to bed, when I heard an auctioneer calling out numbers. Curious as to what charity the event was in aid of, I decided to have a peek through the gap in the doors.” She pauses, looking down at her hands, but when she looks back up, her eyes are full of horror and fear. “There were women and girls up on the stage. They looked pale, thin, and unwell. Like they were drugged. They had a large cuff around their necks with a chain hanging off them. They had nothing on. Completely naked,” she chokes, her voice breaking. “The room was full of men—men that are my father’s friends and business associates. My father was sitting at a table at the front, laughing and drinking like it was a normal party.” She sniffs. “One girl didn’t look more than sixteen,” she adds.

“What did you do? Did you confront him?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and locked myself in there until the next day. When I saw my father in the morning, he asked me what time I came home and if I saw the auction.” She swallows. “The way he asked me, it wasn’t in his normal tone. I knew if I had told him what I really saw, then he would… Well, I don’t know what he would do. All I know is he scared me. He still scares me. I know he has had his men follow me. I think he’s tapped my phone. It’s like I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m going out of my mind that I am always being watched.”

“If you are being watched, then how in the fuck did you manage to meet us here?” I cut in. My eyes quickly dart around the bar to make sure there isn’t anyone I don’t recognise.

“I drove to the mall, went to my favourite clothes shop, and changed my outfit in the changing room to this before jumping in a taxi here,” she states.

Eden nods. “Smart move.”

“It’s smart for all of thirty minutes. Now it’s late, the mall is closed, and according to your dad’s security, you are still in that damn dressing room. So, what will you say when you go back?” I point out.

She looks awkwardly at each of us. “Well, I thought I’d stay with you. I don’t want to go back,” she says with a pleading look.

I turn my glare to Eden.

“Er, we didn’t discuss this. You asked for a meeting. Offering to help us with what we need, and in return we would help you,” Eden confirms.

“Right. I need somewhere to stay, and in return I will tell you everything you need to know to stop my father,” Isabella affirms.

I arch my brow at Eden. “I think maybe you should have been a little clearer on what our help would be,” I say through gritted teeth. Having Isabella stay with us opens us up to attacks. It means trusting her and effectively allowing a stranger into our home. I turn my attention back to Isabella. “Here’s the thing: we help women that need our help. We help relocate them to safety, generally from an abusive home.” I pause. “They come to us desperate. They need our services.” I pause. “Letting the likes of you into our sanctuary is dangerous, not only for us, but for everyone else we help.”

“The likes of me?” she retorts, raising her eyebrow.

“Yes, the likes of you. Someone with money, with power at her fingertips. Someone who is a fucking liability,” I snap.

“Hey, easy,” Eden cuts in before leaning closer to her. “Isabella, you did not state you were on the run to us, and for us to hide you, you can understand our concerns. We’ve known about your father for a long time now. He has heard of us and what we do, but he doesn’t know who we are or where we are based, and we want to keep it that way. You have given us no reason for us to trust what you are saying,” Eden states firmly.

“You give us something, anything to go on to prove to us that you mean what you say,” I add.

Isabella looks at each of us. “You want money? I can get you money,” she states frantically.

I snort out a laugh and shake my head. “We don’t want your dirty money.”

She opens and closes her mouth as if to argue before she nibbles on her bottom lip, clearing her throat. “There is a meeting later tonight. I don’t know what it’s for. I just saw it written in my father’s organiser. He had it left open on the kitchen island,” she states.

“We are going to need more than that. Your dad is a businessman. I’m sure he has many meetings every day. Why would this one be of interest to us?” Eden asks.

“Because this meeting is at midnight, and it’s down at the docks,” she points out.

I give Eden a side glance. We know why he would be having a meeting down at the docks. We’ve tried many times to catch him with one of his shipments down there, but every time he either isn’t there, or we have the wrong day or time.

Betsy taps away on her tablet. “There is a freight ship scheduled to depart at one am. Whatever your father’s meeting is, he’s shipping something out,” Betsy says, turning her tablet around for us to see.

I look down at my watch. “We only have three hours. That isn’t enough time to plan or prepare for anything,” I point out.

“So, let’s make it an observation mission, then?” Eden states. “We’ve got intel, and it also proves whether Isabella is telling the truth.”

I mull it over for a while before nodding in agreement. “Fine. We got a hood?” I ask.

“One in the van,” Betsy nods.

“A hood?” Isabella asks.

I nod. “We do this; it doesn’t mean I trust you. You are to wear a black hood so you can’t see where we are going. Only once we are inside will I remove it.”

“But,” Isabella tries to protest.

I hold up my palm, halting her. “You are to stay at the sanctuary until we decide when you can be trusted. You are not to leave, and if you do, you will be made to wear the hood. Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere you are not permitted,” I state, laying out the ground rules. “Understand? Because if you don’t, we will part ways right now.”

Isabella nods in agreement. “I will do whatever you need me to do. Just please don’t let me go back there. I can’t live that life after seeing what I saw,” she states, shaking her head back and forth.

Something tells me she’s holding something back. Her eyes are too haunted to have only seen an auction. Unless I’m wrong and she’s just lived in a privileged bubble her entire life. However, I find that hard to believe if she’s gone volunteering around the world in war-torn countries. Maybe she will tell us in time, because clearly it isn’t just me with trust issues.

CHAPTER FIVE

MORRIGAN

I walk into the main bar area of the sanctuary and see Isabella sitting in the corner talking to Bernie. I don’t bother going over. Instead, I walk over to grab my helmet. “Do you need any assistance tonight?” a deep voice asks softly from behind me.

I turn around and see Nathaniel standing there, his gaze sweeping over my body. I’m dressed head to toe in leather, wearing my skintight black leather pants with my black cropped leather biker jacket. My outfit hugs every curve.

“Lap dogs don’t assist,” I counter.

His jaw tenses. “I’m more than that,” he grits out.

“We’ve had this discussion. If it’s more you want, then you’re looking in the wrong direction,” I remind him.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help out with stuff around here,” he states.

I fold my arms across my chest. “If we require more help, we will ask for it, but I don’t know if you have noticed that we aren’t really big on men meddling in our stuff,” I point out.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Fuck. You know, not every guy is out to fucking control you or take over your precious club and life.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I suggest you pack up your shit and leave,” I seethe.

He smirks. “There you go, pushing me away.” He leans in, his breath dancing across my lips as his eyes flicker back and forth between my eyes and mouth. “You don’t want anything serious; you just want to fuck, then that’s fine by me. Just because I want to help doesn’t mean I want more from you. It means I want to help more fucking people,” he breathes.

Alarm bells ring in my head, warning me it’s more for him, that this could get very messy, but having him this close, riling me up and getting under my skin is messing with any rational thought I may have been having. I grab his shirt and yank him towards me, crashing our mouths together. He lets out a groan as I slide my tongue against his. He presses his body against mine until he has me pinned against a wall as he deepens the kiss, his tongue duelling with mine.

“Ah-hem!” Eden fake coughs, breaking the kiss. Our mouths break apart, both of us breathing heavily with a smile playing upon his lips.

My senses quickly return, and my mental iron shutters that I work so hard at keeping in place slam back down. His hand cups my jaw affectionately. I take hold of his wrist firmly in mine and pull it away, looking at him dead in the eye.

“We fuck and nothing more. Keep emotions out of it,” I state as much to myself as to him. His jaw tightens, but he gives me a brief nod in acceptance. I step aside and walk around him to Eden and Betsy, who are both wearing similar outfits to me. I grin. “Ready to ride?”

“Clearly you were close to riding something else,” Eden quips.

I snort as I grab my helmet off the side and walk towards the door. “Maybe later.” I shrug.

“Let’s just go and get this over with,” Betsy whines, swinging her backpack onto her back, which is full of night vision cameras and lord knows what other gadgets she’s packed.

We all mount our bikes, and I pause long enough to place my helmet on. “You know, maybe you should give Nathaniel a chance?” I hear Eden say through the speaker on my helmet.

I give her a look through my visor. “Can we drop it, please?” I reply.

“I agree with Morrigan. Let’s drop it,” Betsy interjects.

When we first got the three-way speakers and mics in our helmets, we were excited that we could talk to each other, and now… Well, now we seem to tell each other to shut up the majority of the time.

“Let’s just ride and get this shit over with,” I sigh.

“Roger that, over and out,” Eden mocks.

We ride for forty minutes until we are close to the docks, and as we pull in behind a large shipping container, we kill our engines and lights and remove our helmets. “How long do we have?” I ask.

“Fifteen minutes.”

I frown. “He’s leaving it late to load the ship if it’s due to depart in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s how he sneaks his shipments in. All the staff are paid off, and all crates that are registered are already on the ship. For any last-minute packages,” she says, doing quotation marks with her fingers as she says ‘packages’. “Leaves no paper trail,” Betsy explains.

“Okay, let’s move,” I state. They both nod, and we jog in between all the containers to get closer to the ship that Henry Sparks is supposed to be arriving at. Once we’re close enough, we crouch down behind some wooden crates. Betsy places her bag on the ground and begins to pull out the technical shit. “What the hell is all that?” I ask.

“Three sets of night vision goggles, a special night vision camera, because I figured if we see something really incriminating, I can get a clear shot, and we can send it off to the press. They would eat this shit up,” she says excitedly. I can’t help but smile along with her. Her joy is infectious. “And this little mini satellite thing is so we can hear what is being said,” she says, her grin deepening.

“Well, you may want to set that shit up pretty fucking quick, as there are car lights up ahead.” Eden nods to the right.

Sure enough, a convoy of car lights are heading this way. Betsy hands us each an earpiece and sets up the camera on the box and hits record, just as two cars and a van comes to a stop. Two men get out of the car, and both of them are carrying machine guns.

“Jesus, I feel like I’m in a nineties action film. Give it a minute and Jean Claude Van Damme or Mel Gibson will appear,” I joke.

“I vote for Keanu Reeves,” Eden adds.

“Oh, yes,” I agree.

“Shh!” Betsy hisses, twiddling buttons and knobs while aiming the satellite at the cars. The back passenger door opens, and out steps Henry Sparks.

“There’s the fucker,” I whisper.

We watch as a guy from a small cabin office walks out and greets Henry. They shake hands. “Good evening, Mr. Sparks,” the guy greets.

“Oooh, so cool that we can hear them,” I whisper.

“Shhh!” Betsy hisses at me again.

I roll my eyes and continue to listen. “Good evening, William. I take it everything is in order?” Henry asks.

“Yes, sir,” William responds.

“Good, this shipment is worth a lot of money to me, as well as a gift to a business friend of mine,” Henry states. He clicks his fingers, and men jump out of the van and around to the back, opening it up. There before us, we watch as around twenty young girls are escorted off, all with chains linked to their necks. They stumble, seeming to be drunk or drugged.

“Some of those girls can’t be more than sixteen,” Eden whispers.

“Mother fucker,” I seethe, pushing to my feet, ready to kill him and get those girls out of there.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Eden and Betsy hiss, yanking me back down before I’m seen.

“We have to help them before they’re shipped off to god knows where,” I argue.

“We can’t,” Eden says with regret heavy in her tone. “If we go running in, the likelihood is we will end up dead. They will still be sent off, and this will continue. We die; there won’t be anyone to stop him in the future.” Eden gives my arm a squeeze. I look into her saddened eyes and see the same torment I am feeling.

I exhale a breath. “It doesn’t feel right sacrificing them.”

“It’s not a sacrifice,” Betsy interjects.

I open my eyes and look at her.

“It’s a promise. A promise that we will hunt them down and find them. It’s a promise that we will put a stop to it,” Betsy states with determination.

“And what if we can’t get to them in time?” I counter.

“We will,” she says firmly.

I shake my head. “You don’t know that,” I sigh.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I have to believe it. I have to believe that we are letting those poor girls to be sold like cattle, being sent off to wherever to do whatever.” She pauses, shaking her head. “I can’t even let my mind imagine what they will have to endure, but I need to feel and believe that we will get them out of there. I will keep searching for every girl that has passed through these docks at his hands,” she asserts.

I grab her hand in mine and give it a firm squeeze. “You’re right. Besides, with you tracking them down, we are sure to find them,” I say with certainty.

“Er, guys. This is all very moving, but look.” Eden nudges us, breaking the moment.

We turn to see Henry grab one of the girls firmly by the arm. Even in her current state she looks pretty with long dark hair. Betsy aims the satellite at them as we try to listen to what he whispers in her ear. He grins and leans back, clicking his fingers. One of the men walks over and unlocks her chain, freeing her. He then turns her towards Henry’s car and roughly shoves her in the back seat.

“Just say she didn’t make it,” Henry scoffs dismissively. “I do deserve my own reward, after all.”

“No problem, sir, and what if they dispute the price?” the guy asks.

Henry’s face turns furious. “You tell them that it is the risk they take. Any problems, tell them to contact me directly,” he seethes before he looks down at his watch. “Now, you are due to set sail in five minutes. Make sure you leave on time. I don’t want anyone questioning why you were late,” Henry orders before turning and walking towards his car. One of his men opens the door for him and he gets in.

A few seconds later, the cars and van leave, and the sound of the ship’s horn surrounds us. We watch as the ship sets sail, and as we get to our feet, our hearts are aching as we watch it leave with those women on board.

“Come on, let’s head back,” I state.

Betsy puts everything back into her backpack. “Well, it looks like Isabella was telling the truth,” she mutters.

“Yeah, but I still don’t fully trust her,” I add as we make our way back to our bikes.

I stretch out and yawn, blinking my eyes open when I feel Nathaniel’s warm body wrapped around mine. I turn around and face him. He really is cute-looking, a great lay, and a nice guy. Guilt swirls at the pit of my stomach. I’ve treated him like shit.

His eyes flutter open and his gaze lands on mine, a smile taking over his face. “Have you been watching me while I sleep?” he asks me playfully, his voice gruff.

I give him a small smile. “I owe you an apology,” I state.

He blinks a few more times, frowning in confusion. “What, what do you mean?” he asks.

“I’ve been a real bitch, I know that. Last night, the way I spoke to you. In the past, the way I’ve spoken to you,” I ramble.

He sits up, a smile still playing across his lips. “Hold up, let me record this shit, because I can’t be awake. I must be fucking dreaming if you are apologising,” he teases.

I thump him hard in the arm. “Shut the fuck up. I still mean what I said about how this can never be anything more than a casual hook-up. You are a lap dog. Not just to me, but to the others as well,” I state, repeating my words from the other day.

“I know this.” He nods.

I search his face, checking he’s okay with it. I sigh when I see no signs of him being hurt by it. “See, if this was the other way around, and I was a man,” I state.

“Mor, if you were a man, I wouldn’t be lying in your bed right now,” he points out.

“You know what I mean. Being a woman means that even though I know I’m a hard bitch… Well, harder than most. I still care about your feelings, because I’m a woman.” I huff.

He scoffs out a laugh before wrapping his arm around me and yanking me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest while his fingers relaxingly stroke through my hair.

“It’s got nothing to do with you being a woman. It’s got everything to do with who you are as a person,” he states softly.

I let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I think you may be the only man that thinks I’m even the tiniest bit nice.”

“That’s only because they don’t know the real you,” he adds. “Now shhh, and get some more sleep. You kept me awake fucking most of the night. I need my beauty sleep.” He yawns.

I jab him playfully in the ribs, making him laugh. “Making it out like I forced you, but fine. I could do with the sleep, too,” I relent as a yawn escapes me.

Just as I’m drifting off, a knock at the door has me groaning. “What?” I yell.

The door opens. “Get up. There are things to do and discuss,” Eden demands.

I sit up and frown at her, giving her my best death glare, but she just glares right back at me with her hands on her hips.

“You can crawl back into bed after, but we need you now,” she orders firmly.

I huff and get out of bed as Nathanial rolls over, drifting back off to sleep. “It’s funny. I thought I was the President of this club, and yet here you are bossing me around, giving me orders,” I grumble as I grab my robe, keeping my back to Eden whilst I put it on and cover my naked body. I turn and face her, arching my brow. “Well?” I prompt, gesturing for her to lead the way.

She rolls her eyes and storms out of my room. I follow, closing the door behind me.

“So, are you guys an item?” she asks.

“No. God, no way,” I dismiss quickly. “We have cleared the air. The lines are firmly in place. No lines will be crossed,” I state.

Eden gives me a side glance. “Sure,” she mutters.

“They won’t be. I’m not interested in him that way, nor anyone else. He knows that, you know that, the entire fucking world knows that, so there cannot be any lines crossed,” I snap.

“I didn’t say it would be you crossing the lines. I’m just saying within what, twenty-four hours, he has admitted to wanting to be with you more than what he currently is and that he likes you more than that. Who knows? He may even love you. You shut him down, he flutters his eyelashes at you and manages to break through that impenetrable force field you have, and taa-daa, he’s back in your bed,” she rants, only pausing briefly before starting back up again. “Whether you like to admit it or not, you have a soft spot for him. And no, I know you don’t like him like that, but any affection you show him, any interest you show, he’s going to see and think there is more to it. Maybe it’s a good thing this has come up. It could give you some distance.” She sighs as she pushes the door open to Betsy’s room.

“What thing?” I ask with confusion.

Betsy turns around and smiles. Isabella is sitting on the couch, and she greets me with a shy grin. I frown, wondering why Betsy allowed her in here.

“So, Isabella has given us more information and a perfect way in,” Betsy states, her eyes sparking with excitement.

“I’m guessing it was involving something technical, or you wouldn’t be so excited right now,” I point out.

Her grin widens. “You know me so well.”

“Henry holds an annual charity retreat,” Eden states.

“Yes, we know, but we never know where it will be, as he constantly changes location due to the press, and you need one of those special invites,” I point out. Betsy practically bounces in her seat. I smirk. “Come on, then. Tell me what genius thing you’ve managed to do.”

She claps her hands excitedly. “Well, with the help of Isabella with the location details, times and travel arrangements, I have been able to get into the system and add you to the list of invites.”

“Wait. You didn’t use my real name, did you?” I ask worriedly.

Betsy scoffs. “Do I look like an amateur to you?”

I laugh, loving seeing her so excited. “You’re right. I’m sorry, do continue.” I nod.

“As I was saying, I’ve set you up with a fake name and a fake life. They check backgrounds of all those in attendance,” she states. Turning back to her computer, she types for a moment before she leans back and points to the screen.

“Annie Rection. Seriously? Ann-ie-rection. An erection?!” I protest. “You can’t give me that.”

Eden, Betsy, and even Isabella can’t help but laugh. “Okay, I will change your surname to Rector,” Betsy snorts.

“Annie Rector. An erector. Seriously. Come on,” I moan.

“Okay, fine. I will change it one last time, but I can’t do it again, or they will notice all the name changes.” Betsy gives in and quickly types away. “There, Valentina Fox. You are a self-made millionaire in women’s sex toys,” Betsy states.

My jaw drops. “You can’t be serious?”

She nods, smiling. “Absolutely. I discussed it with Isabella. If you were a daughter of some rich king, ruler, or businessman, Henry would know you. If you were in porn, he would know your name. However, there is one thing he doesn’t know, and that is apparently women’s pleasure. It’s a market designed for women by women. Only men that actually have an interest in their partners pleasure bother to know anything about these things, and even then, apart from buying lube or a toy, they are not going to know who owns the companies,” Betsy points out.

I rub my face. “What if there are other high-powered women there? They may know and realise I am not who I say I am,” I argue.

“There are only three other women there, aside from the wives, of course. All three are wealthy, thanks to daddies or dead husbands’ money. They won’t be interested in business or even know who you are,” Eden interjects.

“My father doesn’t believe women can run a successful business, so to see someone like you on the list will spark his interest. He will feel threatened by you but also intrigued. He will want to belittle you and put you in your place in front of his friends,” Isabella warns.

That has my jaw set tight. “Maybe it would be better if I go in. I can’t see you keeping your cool,” Eden suggests.

“Sorry, no can do. Her image is uploaded. I can’t change that. It was hard enough to get into their system as it was,” Betsy explains. She pulls open a draw and hands me a cell phone. “Now, this is your phone. You will get a text with coordinates tonight. You will be picked up from the location. You are allowed one case, and that case will be scanned. You are to bring personal items only. Your phone will be confiscated, and you will have no contact with the outside world,” Betsy explains.

“How many days is it?” I ask.

“It’s from the Friday to the Monday. You will be made to sign an NDA when you are collected,” Isabella adds.

“Why is it so secretive?” I ask.

“Because the press like to capture the rich relaxed. People slip up after a few drinks and say what they really think, and they can be themselves without the public watching and waiting for them to screw up. The press loves to get that scoop,” Isabella divulges.

“What if they sense something? What if they figure out who I am and why I am there?” I ask, pausing. “In fact, why am I there?”

Eden smiles. “We know Henry doesn’t keep his trafficking information at his home address. He has other properties all over registered to him, but Isabella has informed us where this year’s event is being held. It is actually at one of his properties, not registered in his name. It’s registered in his uncle’s name, so then anything found at the property he can say it was his and plead ignorance. This place is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woodland and a huge lake. The nearest town is over an hour away.”

“Again, that doesn’t prove that any proof is there. Which means I’ll be stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no way out and no contact with you,” I point out.

“My father has an underground office there, only accessible by an elevator. I, myself, have only ever seen it once when I was just ten years old. It’s surrounded in concrete, and the door is a thick iron door that only opens with his fingerprint. I should also mention that there is a guard on the elevator twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” Isabella informs us.

I throw my arms up and flop down on the couch. “So, I just have to cut off your father’s finger and somehow beat up or kill the guard without causing a scene. Easy,” I say mockingly.

Betsy hands me a small black wallet. “Inside there is a small, very thin silicone strip, along with some special powder for transferring the fingerprint. What you need to do is carefully take his glass, open the powder, and just lightly blow it onto the glass. It will highlight his fingerprint just enough for you to then place the thin strip to lift the print. Wear gloves and use that as your fingerprint to access the office,” she states smugly, like she’s solved the whole situation.

“Firstly, you said they check all luggage. How am I supposed to explain this?” I ask, holding up the wallet. “And secondly, there is still the matter of the guard, and you know not being seen by the hundred guests in attendance or the many staff members that will be working,” I remind her.

Betsy smiles and turns around, handing me a small bottle of perfume. “This is highly concentrated laxative. All you have to do is pour some in their drink, and they will be clutching their ass so tight that they won’t have time to call for a replacement. By the time they’ve emptied their guts and called for cover, you will be out of there and back at the party with no one knowing.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to roofie the guard’s laxatives?” I ask, arching my brow.

“There is a small table just to the side with a jug of water and glasses for them. Pour it into the jug and then wait,” Isabella suggests.

“Right, fine. Anything else?” Betsy winces and holds up what looks like a piercing gun. “What the fuck is that?” I ask.

“I’m going to plant a microchip in your arm. It’s just a tracking device. So, if anything should go wrong, we will know where you are, and we can come and get you.” Betsy grins.

“Hold up. You’re going to AI me?” I screech.

“We are not AI-ing you.” Eden snorts, rolling her eyes. “Well, with that in me, you are making me feel like a robot. Or a dog. We chip dogs, and I am not a dog,” I argue.

“Look, this isn’t about what you are. It’s about your safety. What if Henry decided to sell you? Or he finds out who you are and ships you off to Tim-buk-fucking-tu! Then what?” Eden rants.

“Okay, fair point. But you promise to get it out when I get back?” I ask.

Betsy winces. “Well, that might be painful. It could end up shifting inside your arm, and you may need to have it surgically removed.”

I look at the gun contraction in her hand and back up to her face. “This better fucking pay off,” I huff, holding my arm out for her.

CHAPTER SIX

MORRIGAN

“Do I really need all these outfits? It’s only for four days?” I state in protest.

“Yes, you do. Doesn’t she, Isabella?” Eden asks, looking to Isabella for confirmation.

Isabella nods while giving me an ‘I’m sorry’ look. Considering we were supposed to be keeping an eye on her and keeping her at arm’s length, she is now currently sitting on my bed next to the suitcase, while Eden shoves brand new outfits at me to try on. Standing in a black silk backless dress that I apparently have to wear for the black tie dinner, I cringe at all the skin I’m showing.

“I can’t wear underwear with this,” I sigh in protest.

“You don’t need underwear. Your boobs are still full and pert.” Eden shrugs.

“What if I eat too much cheese? You know what happened to me the last time I ate too much Brie,” I argue.

Eden snorts a laugh. “Yeah, you shat your pants in the middle of the grocery store.”

Isabella coughs, fighting back her own laughter. I glare at her, daring her to laugh. She looks down, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I think you look beautiful,” Betsy compliments.

“Thanks. I just don’t feel like me,” I state, fidgeting.

“That is the fucking point. You are not supposed to be you. Now stop bitching and act like you’ve got money,” Eden orders.

I roll my eyes and place my hand on my hip as I saunter across my room, swaying my hips. “What is this place? It isn’t fit for peasants. Get me my drink. Don’t touch me with your common hands. Carry my bags,” I say in my best posh voice.

Eden, Betsy, and Isabella all stare at me. “I said act like you’ve got money. Not act like a bitch,” Eden quips.

I flip her off. “How am I supposed to act with money?” I ask, confused. “The only people I’ve met that have money have been bitches,” I point out before looking at Isabella. “No offence, I don’t mean you,” I state.

“None taken.” Isabella smiles.

“Okay, well, Isabella is the only one with money and the only one that would have met other wealthy assholes,” Eden states. She looks at Isabella. “I also mean no offence,” she affirms.

“Again, none taken,” Isabella repeats before she gets to her feet and looks to me. “It’s not your accent or being a bitch that screams you have money. It’s the entitlement you portray. You don’t blink when someone brings you a drink. It’s their job to serve you. You do not wait around for them to get your luggage. When you arrive, you get out of the car and make your way into the house. They will do it all for you. You behave as if money is nothing and everything at the same time,” she instructs me.

“How am I supposed to act like money is nothing and everything?” I ask.

“So, money is nothing, as in you don’t think twice about purchasing or about bidding in an auction, but money is everything when you discuss how much you made that year. How much you own, how many staff you have working for you, or how many houses you own. Understand?” Isabella explains.

I nod in understanding. “Anything else?” I ask.

“Just be you. Your hard and confident exterior will keep people at bay. They get even the slightest whiff of weakness, and they will circle you like sharks,” Isabella adds.

I arch my brow at her. “I’m not sure if you’ve just insulted or complimented me.”

“It’s a compliment.” She smiles.

I don’t get nervous, but right now sitting here, sipping a glass of wine outside a small bistro, waiting to be collected for this charity retreat, I feel tense. I thought the pick-up location would be somewhere private, somewhere where there could be no witnesses.

I shift uncomfortably in my fitted formal cream dress. I never wear shit like this, but as Eden and Betsy had said, I needed to look as though I have money. I don’t care that this dress is designer, especially as it’s fucking comfortable. The dress stops at my knees, and the square neckline hints at just enough cleavage that it’s sexy but not slutty. Eden called it business-formal sexy; I called it ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass and I’m a snob’ sexy. They even made me wear gold jewellery with real diamonds, and it’s all blingy shit. Some of it is pretty, but none of it was me. I had a formal cropped jacket resting lightly on my shoulders; you know, how the pretentious women do. I just want to rip these clothes off and put on my jeans and go for a ride on my bike. My case is designer; my underwear, skincare product, perfume… Everything is designer.

Eden reminded me they scan our cases. Apparently, smuggling in cookie monster pyjamas and thongs from the discount store weren’t allowed. I look at my watch—my large gold and diamond encrusted watch—checking the time. I scowl at the heavy, gaudy looking thing. It is so over the top. I may as well scream ‘come and mug me’ as I sit here. Five minutes until my ride arrives, and as I jig my leg anxiously, I’m not worried about getting hurt and I’m not worried about facing that giant cock sucker. My biggest fear right now is failing. There is a lot riding in this. If I find the right information to take him down, then it could save a lot of girls.

I spot a blacked-out SUV approach, and as it pulls up slowly in front of me, I push my shoulders back and keep my face neutral. I lift my glass slowly to my lips, watching as the driver’s door opens and an old guy with short grey hair wearing a black suit and a crisp white shirt steps out. He stands perfectly still by the side of the car, his hands clasped together in front of him.

Staring straight ahead, I try not to shift uncomfortably. Surely he would call my name or take my bag. Just as I’m about to place my glass down and stand, the front passenger door opens and a woman who is also dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt steps out. She walks round the front of the SUV towards me. Her blonde hair is slicked back into a tight bun. She comes to a stop just in front of me.

“Miss Fox,” she greets me, nodding her head slightly. For a minute, I thought she was going to bow.

I place my wine glass down and slowly stand, giving her a tight smile. “Good evening.”

She takes my luggage to the back of the car. I follow her, watching as she waves a large wand-looking thing over it. When satisfied, she turns and holds out a briefcase, pausing to open it.

“Please place your phone and any other electrical devices in here. This will be locked and stored in Mr. Sparks’ safe until the event is over,” she states. I reach into my purse and pull out the phone that Betsy had given me and place it into the case. I hold out my purse for her to see I don’t have anything else. Satisfied, she gives me a brief nod and closes the briefcase, clicking the lock shut before placing it in the back of the SUV. After closing the trunk, she walks to the back passenger door and opens it for me.

I give her another tight smile and nod before sliding into the seat. She closes the door, and it’s then that I notice it’s been modified. Just like in a limo, there is a screen dividing the front, but this one has a screen on it. I look out the window, but it’s completely blacked out. I can’t see anything outside. I hear both the man and the woman get into the front.

“Miss Fox,” the woman’s voice echoes around me, making me jump slightly.

“Now that formalities are over, I would like to introduce myself. I am Penny, and I will be your personal assistant for this event. Should you require anything, please do not hesitate to ask. You will notice that you have a complete blackout. This is to ensure the location remains unknown. You have a screen that you can watch movies on, listen to music, anything you wish. To your left is a fully stocked fridge with champagne, caviar, and other refreshments. We will arrive at our destination in approximately two hours. Should you need anything, please press the green button on your armrest, and I will do my utmost to assist you,” she states before going quiet.

I look down at the armrest and see a small remote there. I pull it out and press the button, and the screen before me comes to life and a welcome message fills the screen, followed by a photo of Henry Sparks. I fight the urge to scowl. A selection of movies comes up on the menu; movies that I’ve seen trailers for that aren’t even out in the cinemas yet. I click on one and reach for the fridge. After grabbing one of the bottles of champagne and a glass, I pop it open, being mindful to only pour half a glass. The last thing I need to be right now is tipsy. I need a clear head for what I’m about to face this weekend. I just hope it isn’t a massive orgy for the world’s richest assholes. The thought of that makes my stomach turn.

I then decide to try the caviar. I peel it open, spreading a small amount on a cracker before popping it all in my mouth in one. I frown, finding the texture weird in my mouth. At first it tastes like the ocean. Fresh, salty. I don’t hate the taste, but I don’t love it, either. At least I know I can eat it without having to spit it out. I sit back, my eyes roaming around, and that’s when I spot the small camera in the top right corner. I wonder if Henry Sparks himself is watching each of us. The thought makes me shift uncomfortably. What if he has cameras in our rooms?

The journey seems to drag on, and as much as I am trying to watch the movie to distract myself, I can’t fight the anxiousness that is building inside me to get there. I want to get into my room and breathe without feeling like I’m being watched. Although there is every chance I will be watched then, too.

As the movie comes to an end, I feel the SUV slows to a stop. I look around, even though I can’t see anything. I shift nervously as the doors open and close up front, waiting for my own door to open.

Calm, expressionless. Do not give anything away, I mentally repeat to myself before my door is opened. A huge stone mansion that looks a lot like a castle fills my view; large fire torches line the red-carpeted steps up to the huge, opened doors, and as I step out, I do my best to look around and take in my surroundings, but as darkness has set in, I can’t see much.

Penny stands and gestures for me to make my way up the steps. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. I’m half expecting a fairy godmother to appear at any moment. Penny walks at my side as we make our way to the top of the extravagant entrance. A waiter is stood there holding a tray filled with glasses of champagne, and as I take one, I subtly nod my thanks. I know Isabella said to act like I’m owed all this because of how rich I’m supposed to be, but I can’t bring myself to be a dick.

As we step into the huge, marbled entrance hall, I see plenty of people already here stood in groups talking, and not so subtly looking over in my direction.

“Miss Valentina Fox,” a man loudly announces as I enter.

I look around, feeling pretty sure that my eyes are wide like a deer caught in the headlights. The few that weren’t looking my way now certainly are. I hold myself together, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably under everyone’s scrutiny. I don’t make it far before the man himself strides towards me, a smile playing on his face. He holds his hands out to pull me into his embrace like we are old friends, and I can’t help but stiffen at his touch. At least I remember to do the kiss on each cheek thing. His hands squeeze my shoulder slightly. Man, I would love nothing more than to knee him in the nuts right now.

He steps back. “Miss Fox, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you agreed to attend this weekend.” Henry grins.

I force a smile onto my face. “Oh, Mr. Sparks, please. There was no way I was going to miss it,” I reply, knowing full well he had no idea who I was, or should I say, supposed to be until his people told him as I entered.

“Miss Fox, please. It’s Henry,” he states.

“Well, then, please call me Valentina,” I say in return. His eyes spark with some unknown emotion before shamelessly roaming over my body. I clear my throat and look around. “I must say this building is spectacular,” I state in an effort to distract him. I do not want his attention.

He lets out a soft laugh. “Yes, you will get to see it in all its splendour tomorrow, but for tonight, it’s just a casual meet. Let you all unwind and get to know one another. Food will be served in approximately thirty minutes. Then you can all return to your rooms for a well-rested night before the fun really begins,” he states proudly.

I nod. He’s not an ugly man. He clearly keeps fit, and if it wasn’t for the fact I know exactly how fucking evil he really is, I would find him slightly attractive.

“I am looking forward to it,” I say forcing a warm smile to my lips. I look to the side and see Penny stood with her back to the wall, along with the other personal assistants. They are all just stood there, looking straight ahead, waiting to be summoned.

“Come. Let me introduce you to some of my business associates,” he says, moving to my side. He places his hand on my lower back and leads me to a small group of men. They all part when they hear him clear his throat, turning their attention on us. I grin at each of them. They all look to be over fifty. “Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to Miss Valentina Fox. She has taken the toy industry by storm,” Henry states with a wink at me.

I let a light chuckle escape me and playfully roll my eyes, while I’m mentally ramming my fist in his face.

“Toys, eh? Always did say playing with dolls were the only thing women were good at.” A balding man with an overhanging belly snorts. “No, really. I admire it when a woman likes to play boss.” He winks. I don’t hide my distaste for his comment.

“Gerald,” Henry scolds in a mocking tone, as he fights his own amusement at Gerald’s comments. Fucking prick.

“Oh, come on, Henry. I’m just playing,” he scoffs. “You know, just a little joke, sweetheart.” He chuckles and his patronising tone is slicing through my last nerve.

“Of course.” I grin. “I know you mean no harm. I mean, you’re right. I am a woman. What do I know about business?” I mock with a sarcastic tone. I take a sip of my drink as they all chuckle. “However, there is one thing I know, that clearly all of you don’t.” I pause. “I know how to get your wives off,” I state sharply.

“I beg your pardon,” Gerald splutters angrily, while the others all practically gasp in horror at my crude comeback.

I let out a playful chuckle. “Vibrators, Gerald. Your wife’s pleasure is my business,” I add, enjoying his face turning beet red.

Henry throws his head back and lets out a roaring laugh. “Excellent. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lost for words, Gerald.” The other men laugh but shift uncomfortably. “Smart cookie, this one. You better watch it.” Henry laughs.

Gerald shifts on his feet. “If you will excuse me, I need a refreshment,” he says quietly before walking away.

The other men all make their excuses and walk away, leaving me and Henry alone. “Not the best first impression,” I state honestly.

“Ignore them. They’re a little sensitive to those sorts of things.” He winks, his eyes lazily drinking me in. “I, on the other hand, embrace a woman that knows what she wants,” he says sleazily. I have to fight the urge to gag and stab him in the throat. Thankfully, another name is announced. “If you will excuse me,” he states before walking over to the person that has just arrived.

I move around the room, nodding in greeting to others as I pass. “Now I must meet the woman that got Gerald’s Y-fronts in a twist,” a woman’s voice states from behind me. I turn around to see an older lady in her late sixties stood there, smiling up at me. Her sharp eyes assess me.

I smile. “Valentina Fox,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Oh, I know who you are. Within five minutes of you being here, you are already the hot gossip; the woman that sells sex toys.” She grins.

“Ah. Well, they’re not wrong,” I confirm.

“I’m Lady Davenport, but you can call me Edna.” She grins. “You, my dear, are different. I can tell that already.”

My spine straightens. “I’m not different. Just the same as everyone else here,” I say, shaking my head.

“Oh, you are. You are not like these pompous assholes.” She tuts. I cough, choking on my champagne. She gives me a side glance, smirking. “Let me tell you something I tell everyone else here. My dear Ernest earned every single penny working hard and treating people right. He didn’t steal it, and he didn’t sell out his workers. He treated every single one of them right. God rest his soul, he was a good man.” She sighs.

“I’m sorry for your loss. He sounds like he was a wonderful man,” I say softly.

She snorts. “He was. Not too bad in the sack, either.” She winks. I can’t help it as my laughter erupts loudly, causing everyone to turn and look at me.

“You might want to warn a girl when you are going to say something like that,” I warn her.

She shrugs, a devilish grin playing on her lips. “That would be nowhere near as fun as watching people’s reactions.”

I arch my brow at her. “Edna, I think you are trouble.”

She links her arm through mine. “Oh, sweet girl, you have no idea.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

MORRIGAN

I have never been more grateful than to be practically kidnapped by an older woman. Edna has given me all the gossip on most, if not all of everyone here, warning me who to stay clear of. As we make our way to dinner, Edna finds her place card and hands it to her assistant.

“Paul, sit me next to my new best friend,” she orders. He nods and scurries off. We make it to my table, and someone called Edward pulls out the chair next to me. Edna quickly slides herself right into his seat.

“Edna, you’re in my seat,” the tall skinny man states.

She gives him her best sweet old lady look. “Oh, Eddie, you aren’t going to move an old lady, are you? You have my seat, dear. It’s next to that Dick Warren,” she says, patting his hand.

“You mean Richard Warren,” he corrects.

“Oh, yes, silly me.” She tuts and turns her back to him, ending the conversation. I watch as he shakes his head and walks away.

“Lesson number one, take no shit from any of these yahoos.” She winks, holding out her glass for me to clink.

I clink her glass. “I look forward to learning more lessons from you, Edna,” I state.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Nyx O’Conner,” is announced as people take their seats.

I frown. “I thought everyone was already announced?” I whisper to Edna.

She shrugs. “Maybe they got lost on their way here?” I shrug in response. “So, my dear, what made you want to come to this boring event?” she asks.

“Can’t be that boring if you’re here,” I quip.

“Touché.” She nods.

“Purely for networking. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but all of the men here don’t take women seriously,” I state.

“Not all of the men. I, for one, take women very seriously,” a deep voice states.

I turn my head, and my gaze immediately lands on a man stood at our table. He’s dressed in a sharp fitted black suit, a crisp white shirt, with the top few buttons casually undone, exposing the slightest hint of his broad chest. My eyes continue to wander up along his neck to his sharp stubbled jaw, over his soft mouth that twitches into a smug smile, revealing a deep dimple on his right cheek. Then my eyes land on his rich blue eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.

“And just who might you be?” Edna asks, breaking me out of my lust-filled gaze.

He arrogantly pulls out his chair next to Edna and sits down. “I’m Nyx O’Conner.” He holds out his hand to Edna, and she blushes as she places her hand in his. He places a soft kiss on the back of her hand, making her giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Another newcomer,” Edna states.

I eye him sceptically. Surely Betsy or Edna would have vetted who was on the list, and surely they would have warned me about this guy. Or maybe they didn’t so I wouldn’t react. Who knows? Either way, he has caught me off guard. He doesn’t look like he belongs here; he’s too young, and far too good looking.

I sit back in my chair and sip my champagne. “So, tell me, Mr O’Conner, what business are you in?” I ask curtly.

His gaze flickers to mine as he clicks his fingers, and his assistant arrives at his side within a millisecond. “Scotch on the rocks,” he orders. No please or thank you. My opinion of him instantly changes. He goes from hot to jackass in a split second. He turns his attention back to me. “Well, Mrs?” He pauses, waiting for me to answer.

“It’s Miss Fox. Valentina Fox,” I state coldly.

“Well, Valentina…” he starts.

“Miss Fox,” I correct him sharply.

His brow arches at my correction. Cleary he’s not used to being corrected. “Miss Fox,” he states. “My apologies. I am in no business. I am of old money.” I don’t respond. Now I think he’s an entitled asshole. “So, Miss Fox, you will have to enlighten me. What is your business?” he counters.

“She’s made millions selling dildos,” Edna blurts out. I want to glare at her, but instead I remain my blasé self, as if I didn’t hear or care what she said.

A surprised chuckle escapes him before his eyes roam over me. “Interesting business to be in,” he states.

Why is it when men hear you sell sex toys, they think they can eye fuck you? Like it gives them a right. Sure, I may have had an appreciative glance when he entered, but it wasn’t sleazy. Well, okay, maybe it was a little sleazy. In fact, I’d say it was delicately sleazy.

He, on the other hand, is clearly just another arrogant rich prick. I am here to do one thing, and one thing only, and that is to get the information needed to help those girls. For all I know Mr. Come-to-bed-with-me eyes-and-sit-on-my-face-lips is a part of it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if all the men here are a part of it.

I straighten my back and fix my cold gaze. “What Edna has failed to say is I have a specialist business,” I state.

He leans on his elbow, running the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip. His assistant silently approaches and places his drink on the table beside him before skulking away. Again, he doesn’t say thank you. He just simply picks up his glass and takes a sip. Prick.

“So, Mr. O’Conner, please tell me what brings you to this year’s event?” Edna asks.

He turns his attention to her. “Boredom.” He shrugs. “I had some free time, so I figured why not.”

I roll my eyes. The poor man has too much time and money. Such a hard life he must lead. I ignore him and turn to Edna. “So, what are we to expect this weekend? The invite was very vague,” I ask.

“Usually, we have a variation of games or most, which usually include a little gambling. I like it when I can have a little flutter, but I don’t think he has a full racetrack here.” She sighs.

“He had a full racetrack?” I blurt out before I can hide my shock.

“Yes, only a basic one. So don’t get too excited.” She waves me off, misreading my shocked expression.

“Just a basic one. Pfft. What a loser,” I state sarcastically while rolling my eyes.

Edna throws her head back and laughs, elbowing me with her bony elbow. “Such sass! I like it.” I clink my glass with hers, but as I go to take a sip, I notice it’s empty.

I turn and look around for a server with more champagne, but sadly don’t spot one. Before I can call Penny over, Nyx obnoxiously clicks his fingers and his assistant comes running. “More champagne for Miss Fox,” he demands.

I frown. “I am quite capable of asking for my own drink.”

“Didn’t look like it,” he quips.

I would love nothing more than to slap him upside the head. Fucking smartass. I keep my gaze fixed on his and raise my hand slightly, clicking my fingers. As if it’s the national call for assistants, Penny scurries over. Huh, clearly it is.

“Penny, please can you inform Mr. O’Connors assistant that I no longer require champagne, and could you please bring me two fingers of whiskey on ice,” I order. “Thank you.”

“Right away, Miss Fox,” Penny states before disappearing.

Mr. O’Connor picks up his glass and takes a sip, his eyes fixed on mine. Both of us are stubborn as the other refuses to look away. “I wouldn’t have you down as a whiskey drinker,” he comments.

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Mr. O’Connor,” I retort.

His lips twitch with a faint smile and his lips part as if to say something, but the high-pitch squeal of a mic interrupts him. We all look over to see Henry Sparks stood in front of a microphone, tapping it with his finger.

“Testing, one, two,” he jokes. “Friends, colleagues, and newcomers,” he says, looking to me when he says newcomers. I force a smile at him and raise my empty glass, hating the attention he is throwing my way. I never did ask what happened to Henry’s wife. Surely Isabella wasn’t spawned in a lab. “I am grateful to all of you for coming out here and joining me. There are some fun things planned that will raise a lot of money for my charity. Your money will help those in the poorest communities, offering private tuition to their children.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. That’s how he’s taking so many. He’s hitting the desperate, offering them a life, money, and opportunities. Is that what he’s telling the families? That he’s sending the girls to a private school? Is that why there aren’t a hundred of missing persons reports? Shit, I feel sick to my stomach.

“Now, I won’t ramble on, but I will say I expect you all to dig deep, give generously, and after all, it’s a tax break.” He chuckles. People laugh and cheer, raising their glasses in a toast to that. “Now, let’s eat, drink, and relax,” Henry cheers, and with that the doors open and a swarm of staff enter, carrying plates of food. They all stand around our tables, pausing until they are all in their correct spot before placing the plates down for everyone at exactly the same time with military precision.

“Jesus, is there a countdown where we all start at the same time, too?” I mutter under my breath.

“I don’t think its mandatory,” Mr. O’Connor quips.

I look at him and he smirks as he takes a bite of his scallop. I clear my throat. “So, Mr. O’Connor, what do you like to do with all your free time?” I ask, trying to deflect.

He wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin before leaning back in his chair, taking a long sip of his drink. “It’s Nyx, and I do whatever I feel like doing. I often like to go on rides,” he states.

“Horse rides? My husband and I loved to go riding in the countryside.” Edna smiles.

“No, Edna, not horses. Bikes,” he states.

That has my attention. “Bikes?” I press.

“Yes, I ride motorbikes. There is nothing quite like the open road.” He sighs.

“No, there isn’t,” I blurt out. Cringing, I sit up straight, feeling stupid for opening my mouth. “Er, I mean, so I’ve heard,” I say, quickly scrambling to cover my mistake. Jesus, the first night and I’m already fucking this up.

“Well, hello, Edna. How are you?” a woman—probably in her fifties—approaches. It’s not hard to tell that she’s had a lot of cosmetic surgery. While for the most part she looks fabulous, but she probably should have stopped when her eyebrows were getting too close to her hairline. She has a permanent shocked expression about her.

“Oh, shit. Watch out, she’s a viper,” Edna mutters behind her napkin, pretending to wipe her mouth.

“Sherry! How wonderful to see you,” Edna falsely beams.

The woman smiles, or at least tries to, but she has so much Botox and lip filler, her face is staying mainly emotionless. Her eyes flicker to me. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” she asks with the flick of her hand in my direction. I notice a huge diamond ring on her finger. It’s so big, I’m surprised it’s not weighing her hand down.

“This is Miss Valentina Fox.” Edna gestures to me. “And Valentina, this is Sherry. Her husband is the rather large man loudly blowing his nose. His name is Lord Mulberry.” She points.

I watch as Sherry huffs in annoyance at Edna. “So, your husband is British?” I ask, trying to take Sherry’s attention away from Edna.

Her grey eyes shift to me. “Yes, he is the third cousin to the King,” she boasts.

“Oh, I see.” I nod, not sure what else to say to that. Well done? Whoopie for you? Clearly not satisfied with my response, she turns her attention to Nyx. “And who might you be?” she asks, her voice turning sultry as she leans across the table, pushing her cleavage together, which wouldn’t normally be a problem, but they’re practically in my face. I blanch, leaning back.

“Nyx O’Connor,” he states curtly.

Sherry looks him over. “How have I not come across you before?” she practically drawls.

“Well, I’m sure we have crossed your path before,” he states, smiling up at her.

My eyes flicker back and forth between their interaction. Something in her expression makes me think she knows him, or in the least recognises him, but while she is playing dumb, Nyx is acting like he wished he didn’t know her.

I frown, confused. “So, do you attend many other events then, if you recognise Sherry?” I ask.

“Some, but not many,” he answers.

I nod. “Do you have favourite one?” I ask, pressing further. Something isn’t sitting right.

“Sure, this one.” He shrugs.

“But this is your first time here. So how do you know it’s your favourite?” I ask.

He gives me an irritated look, not appreciating me pressing the issue. He puts on a smile. “Quite the detective, aren’t you, Miss Fox? Well, if you must know, I’ve heard so much about these events. What I meant to say is, I’m sure this one will be my favourite,” he states firmly before he stands. “If you ladies will excuse me, I require the little boys room.” He pushes to his feet, giving us a brief nod before he walks through the room and out the double doors. I frown, watching him.

“Well, I suppose I best get back to my seat. Good to see you, Edna, and you, Miss Fox,” Sherry mutters under her breath as she walks back to her seat.

An unsettled feeling swirls around my gut. I’m not sure what it is, but something doesn’t feel right. Maybe it was just the scallops, but something about Nyx O’Connor isn’t all as it seems.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MORRIGAN

Once the meal was over, I excused myself up to my room. Penny was there ready to show me where it was. It was extravagant, just like the rest of this place; a huge claw tub was in the bathroom, and it even had a separate shower big enough for two people. The four-poster bed was huge; four people could fit in it. I removed my make-up and changed into the silk nightgown Eden had insisted I wore to sleep in. It was full length, had thin barely there spaghetti straps, and it was backless. The material skimmed over my body, highlighting my curves. I pull my hair to one side and twist, looking at my reflection.

“This is ridiculous. Who wears something that covers so much, yet is also sexy to bed?” I mumble. If I wasn’t worried about cameras, I would just sleep naked, but I couldn’t risk them seeing my tattoo. It would give everything away. Damn, I wish could have just brought cookie monster pyjamas with me. Surely some rich folk wear comfy pyjamas.

I climb into bed and sink down under to the covers, sighing at how unbelievably comfortable it is. Flicking the lamp off, the room plummets into darkness. I close my eyes and the usual haunting images flicker through my mind. Blood, Mom’s eyes, her pale face...

I blink my eyes open and switch the light back on, laying there on my back looking up. This is why I fuck myself into exhaustion every night, so I don’t have to think or see those memories. I’m not sure how long I lay there fighting with my own thoughts before I finally drift off to sleep, but I am woken up by a loud, high-pitched alarm. I startle awake and jump out of bed, stumbling half asleep as I make my way to the door. I swing it open, and Penny is there, her hand raised and poised, ready to knock.

“Miss Fox, that is the fire alarm. We need you to make your way out of the building and to the front drive until we can determine the cause,” she orders. I nod as I slip my feet into the complimentary slippers and make my way along the hall, along with everyone else as Penny stays behind, knocking on doors. As I make it down to the ground floor, there is a commotion as everyone is stood crowded around one of the staff who is stood there, pleading for them to evacuate.

“I’m not walking out there. Do you know how much this nightgown cost? It’s raining and it will be ruined!” I hear a woman that I’m pretty certain is Sherry protests.

“This is outrageous. Expecting us to stand out there in the middle of the night in our undergarments!” a man huffs.

I roll my eyes and look around for another way out. If there is a fire, they can all stand here and burn to hell. I’m not going to hang around. I spot what looks like a side door that’s slightly open. I make my way to it, pushing it open, but I quickly come to an abrupt halt when I see Nyx stood there in front of an open filing cabinet, his hands holding sheets of paper. He freezes, his jaw set tight, his eyes searing through mine.

I arch my brow in question before slowly and quietly shutting the door behind me. I step further into the room, that I now know is an office come library. With each step I take, he doesn’t move. He just watches me, waiting to see what I will do next. I come to a stop in front of him, my eyes still fixed on his until I look down at the papers in his hands.

Just receipts and order forms. Nothing of any use to me. I look back up into his eyes. “You better start talking, Lord O’Connor,” I demand in a low warning, making sure to keep my voice down so not to draw any attention to us.

“There is nothing to discuss. Henry owes me money. I was merely looking for—” He pauses.

My brow raises and I give him poignant look before I snatch the papers from his hand and hold them up. “Looking for what? A receipt for him paying you back?” I scoff shaking my head. “Tell me what you are looking for,” I demand, leaning in closer. He looks down at me, his jaw tight, clearly pissed that I’ve caught him out.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” he grounds out.

“Oh, I think you do. One scream from me and you’ll be up shit’s creek,” I state.

He lets out a huff of a laugh before leaning in closer, his breath dancing across my cheek. “Careful, little girl. You have no idea what you are messing with,” he threatens.

I smirk, moving quickly, so quickly he doesn’t see it coming. Using my body, I crouch low, sweeping my leg out and knocking him off his feet, He crashes to the floor with a thud. I move, swiping the envelope blade off the desk before straddling him, holding the blade against his neck. His eyes are wide with surprise and a smugness takes over me.

“You are the one that needs to be careful,” I retort.

He smiles before pushing himself up into a sitting position. I keep the blade pressed against his neck as I’m still straddling his lap. “I knew there was something more to you,” he whispers.

The creek of the door opening startles us. I think quickly and throw the blade across the room before threading my fingers through Nyx’s black hair.

“You owe me,” I whisper before crashing my mouth to his.

“What the fu—” he starts to protest, but as soon as my lips move against his, the words stop coming. He kisses me back, his hands gliding up over the silk gown on my thighs as his tongue swipes against mine, playing, coaxing. I can’t help the whimper that escapes me as his hands glide to my behind.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out.

“What’s taking so long? Move!” Henry’s voice booms. I break the kiss, giving Nyx a wink. “What the hell?!” Henry bellows.

And queue my Oscar worthy acting. “Oh my gosh!” I gasp, clasping my chest as I get to my feet. I pretend to blush, looking away. “I am so very sorry, Henry. We got carried away; too much champagne,” I rush out, walking to him. I place my hand gently on his arm. “I completely understand if you wish for us to leave. I am so ashamed of my actions,” I babble, giving him my best sorrowful, doe-eyed look. Just as I knew he would, the prick’s eyes wander over my body. Fucking slimeball.

He places his hand over mine and pats it. “No need to apologise. I understand when the moment can take you by surprise.” He winks.

Ugghh, kill me now, I think to myself.

“I didn’t realise you two were an item?” Henry states.

“Oh, we are—” I pause, trying to find the right words.

“Yes,” Nyx states dominantly as he comes up behind me, placing the palm of his hand low on my bare back. “It’s early days, and neither of us knew we were coming here. So, it was quiet the surprise.” He smiles. I subtly jab my elbow into his ribs.

Henry’s assessing gaze flickers between us. “William, have Miss Fox’s belongings moved into Lord O’Connor’s.”

“Oh, you don’t need to—” I start to protest.

“Nonsense, I’m sure you will enjoy being together a lot more. And it means you won’t be sneaking off into the private areas of my house to spend time together,” he says with a wink.

Nyx flexes his hand on my back, his fingertips slowly stroking back and forth. I fight the urge to shove him off.

“That’s settled then,” he beams.

“Oh, has the fire been put out?” I ask, only just realising the alarm had stopped.

“Yes, it was just an error by a member of staff,” he sneers, glaring at William. “Now, let’s get back to bed.” He gestures for us to leave before him, so we do.

Nyx still keeps his hand firmly on my back, and as the other guests make their way back upstairs to their rooms, a few of them don’t miss the way Nyx is touching me. Great. I’m sure they will be all gossiping about that in the morning. I spot Edna and she grins, giving me the thumbs-up. I can’t help but laugh and shake my head.

“This way,” Nyx whispers in my ear, turning us in the opposite direction of my room. He comes to a stop four doors along and opens it, gesturing for me to enter.

I walk in, noticing his room is even more luxurious than mine. He has an entire lounge area with a sofa, and I notice that my things are already placed in the room. Jesus, they work fast here. I whirl around to snap at Nyx.

“Okay, what in the hell—” I start, but my words are cut off as he crashes his mouth to mine. I try pushing him off, but he remains firm. My body starts to relax against him until my lips are kissing him back.

“Cameras,” he whispers across my lips. “Shower with me,” he demands. I’m about to tell him where he can shove his shower, but he grabs my hand and drags me into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he lets go of my hand and switches on the shower. I stand there, my arms folded against my chest.

Once he’s satisfied, he steps towards me. “Tell me who the fuck you really are,” he demands on a low growl.

I tilt my head. “Wow, the posh boy accent has certainly been dropped fast,” I mutter.

“Keep your voice down. Now start fucking talking,” he presses.

I place my hands on my hips. “Back the fuck up, buddy. I am not the type of girl you can just bark orders at, and I am not about to tell you everything and risk myself and why I am here. You tell me who the fuck you are,” I seethe.

He grounds his jaw, the muscle twitching in frustration, but he doesn’t know who he is up against. I will stand toe to fucking toe with him and never back down.

“Fuck,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “I have a job to do. I won’t and can’t risk telling you,” he admits.

I squint my eyes, assessing him. “Well then, it appears we have come to a stalemate, with neither of us willing to divulge why we are both here,” I state firmly.

His crystal blue eyes pin me in place. “So, what do we do now?” he asks.

I shrug. “How about you stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours?” I suggest.

“It’s going to be a little hard when you are sharing my fucking bed,” he snaps.

“Who said anything about sharing a bed? You can sleep on the couch,” I argue.

“Cameras, remember? Henry thinks we are an item. Therefore, you will have to act and play the role of my girlfriend,” he reminds me.

I grind my teeth together, fuming at the thought of having to share a bed with him. Every part of me is screaming at me not to trust him. Whatever his reasons are for being here, I know he would step over me to get what he needs, and I would do the same.

Taking a step closer into his personal space, I hold out my hand. “An agreement.” I pause, looking into his deep blue eyes. “You don’t like me, and I sure as shit don’t like you, yet we are both here to do what we’ve got to do.”

“Who said I didn’t like you?” he quips, smiling, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

I arch my brow. “Let me be really fucking clear with you. If you think that because we are both here for reasons we cannot state, that it automictically makes us allies, that we are going to stay up late swapping stories and braiding each other’s hair, then you are wrong. We may have an understanding, but you are still my enemy. I am still your enemy, and if the moment arises that I have to crush you to get the job done, I will,” I grit out.

“Oh, believe me, Sparky. There is no misunderstanding on what this is,” he sneers.

I lift my chin. “Good, then we agree. Out there, you agree to give your best fucking performance as the dutiful boyfriend. In here, we stay the fuck away from each other,” I add, stating the terms.

He places his firm large hand in mine. I notice the feel of his rough skin against mine, not the usual soft pampered skin of wealthy lord. Interesting.

“Agreed. I wish you luck in your...” He pauses, thinking. “Mission,” he adds.

I smile, removing my hand from his. “Thanks, but I don’t need luck,” I retort before turning and walking towards the bathroom door.

“Wait,” he orders.

I stop and turn around to face him. “What?” I ask.

“Take your clothes off,” he states.

I place my hands on my hips and give him a death glare. “We may have kissed, but that was all for show and nothing more. My clothes are staying firmly on,” I snap back. I’m not shy about being naked in front of, well anyone, but on my own terms. I learned pretty young that my body can be used as a weapon. I’ve never really seen myself as anything other than that.

He grabs a towel and strides the few steps towards me, holding it out. “Cameras, remember? It will look odd if you walk out exactly the same,” he points out while holding out the unfolded towel.

“Fine. Look away,” I relent, gesturing with my hand to turn around.

He turns his head to the left and squeezes his eyes shut while still holding the towel out for me as a curtain. I turn my back to him and slide the thin straps down my arms, letting the silk gown to glide down my body and pool at my feet. I turn my head slightly to grab the towel, my gaze catching and locking with his.

“Hey!” I snap, snatching the towel from him and wrapping it around myself. “Eyes to yourself, you fucking pervert.”

“Savage Sisters MC,” me murmurs. My body stills, knowing he’s just seen the small tattoo of our patch on my hip. I didn’t want to divulge any of that information to him. No matter what, I won’t risk the club, my friends, my only family, nor all the women who rely on us.

I turn to face him, ignoring his words. “I’m going to bed,” I say before walking out of the bathroom, leaving him stood there.

CHAPTER NINE

MORRIGAN

I awake to a light tapping sound, groaning and stretching my muscles out. “Yeah?” I call out, my eyes still closed.

“Miss Fox, Mr O’Connor, breakfast will be served in one hour down in the orangery,” a woman’s soft voice states.

“Hhm, okay,” I mumble, half-asleep as I snuggle deeper into my pillow. I hear the door click closed as I fight to stay awake, wanting nothing more than to fall back to sleep.

“You talk in your sleep,” a deep voice mutters behind me. My body freezes and my eyes spring open as I feel a warm body press against mine and a heavy arm drape over me.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, remembering that he mentioned the cameras.

“Sleeping in the same bed as my woman,” he mumbles.

“You think that maybe I should have consented to this at some point?” I ask, whispering as quietly as I can while trying to keep my calm.

“We are in a relationship. I’m just doing what people do in a relationship.” He yawns.

I shift to get up, feeling something hard poking me in the ass. “Oh, my fucking god, are you hard right now?!” I screech, jumping out of bed.

He smirks, leaning up on his elbow. “Morning wood.” He shrugs. “Although, I wasn’t expecting a show first thing in the morning,” he sighs, his eyes trailing slowly over my body. I look down, realising I am stood there completely naked. The towel I had wrapped around myself before bed must have come off in the night.

“Shit!” I hiss, trying to cover myself. Nyx just chuckles as he pulls the towel out from under the quilt, dangling it off his index finger. I snatch it. “Fucking jackass,” I mutter, wrapping it around myself and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

I quickly use the toilet before starting up the shower. Dropping the towel, I step under the hot spray.

“Oh god,” I moan as the hot water pummels my body. This might be the most amazing shower I’ve ever had. I don’t think I ever want to leave.

I hear the door open and close, then the sound of running water. I peer around the steamed up glass panel that separates the shower from the rest of the bathroom to see Nyx stood there taking a piss.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” I hiss.

He casually looks over his shoulder while still pissing. “I needed to go. I couldn’t hold it any longer. You know, if this is going to work, we are going to need better communication,” he points out.

My fists clench at my sides. “Have you ever heard of fucking knocking?!” I growl.

He flushes the toilet, and suddenly the shower goes from beautifully warm to freezing cold, to scolding hot. I screech, jumping out of the shower. “Son of a bitch!” I scream.

“Oh, if you’re done, I will jump in there now,” he states, dropping his grey sweats to the floor. He strides towards the shower completely naked, without a care in the world.

I fight the urge to look down at his dick. “I’m not fucking done,” I snap, jumping back under the spray.

He shrugs. “There is enough room for two.”

My jaw drops, stunned at the sheer audacity of it as he starts shampooing his hair. “You are a man, and I’m a woman,” I start.

“10 out of 10 for your observation, sparky.” He snorts.

I will not stab him, I will not stab him, I repeat in my mind, trying to contain my rage.

“You know what? Fine. But if I catch you looking at my body, or if you even attempt to touch me, I will rip your balls off and make you choke on them,” I threaten.

He gives me a playful wink as he washes his hair. “You going to finish showering or continue to flirt with me?” he asks.

A feral growl rumbles in my chest. I whirl around, turning my back to him and begin furiously washing my own hair. “Mother fucking moron, pervert, jackass,” I mutter under my breath.

“If we are going to give each other pet names, then I think I should get a say in what you call me,” he says from behind me.

I finish rinsing the shampoo before whirling around on him. “I swear, I will crush your dick if you continue to piss me off,” I threaten. His lips twitch, fighting a smile as his eyes start to lower down my body. “Have you forgotten what I said already? Look any lower and you’ll be choking on your own balls,” I warn him.

His eyes flicker back to mine. “Sorry. I’m a man, it’s a natural reaction.” He shrugs.

“Pfft. Of course, you’re just a red-blooded man, right? You just can’t help yourself,” I say, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Funny, rapists and sex offenders say the same fucking thing.”

Something flickers in his eyes, and he lunges forwards, his hand wrapping around my throat. He spins me around before I can react, pinning me against the cold tiled wall before he leans closer.

“Don’t ever compare me to one of those cunts,” he seethes, his vibrant blue eyes now dark and threatening as the water cascades over us.

“Pinning a woman by her throat while she’s naked. What is it they say? If it talks like an abuser, threatens like an abuser, and grabs like a fucking abuser, then guess what it is. Probably a fucking abuser,” I sneer. He blinks slowly. “Release your hold of me right fucking now,” I spit, feeling anger coursing through my veins.

“I would never hurt you or any woman,” he states fervently. “I just don’t take kindly to being referred to as a fucking rapist.”

“Never had you down for being the sensitive type,” I quip.

His jaw sets tight, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine before he sighs and steps back, removing his hand. He turns his back to me and continues showering, not saying a word, acting as if nothing happened.

I shake my head before quickly finishing rinsing my hair. I step out, leaving him to shower. I wrap a towel around myself and my hair, walk over to the toilet and flush it.

“Mother fucker!” he roars.

I smirk as I walk past, flipping him off as I walk out the door. “Take that as your warning!” I yell as I slam the door behind me.

Once dressed in another overpriced outfit, another dress. This one is plain black with long sleeves and a slash neck. It hugs every curve of my body, stopping at my knees. I grab a pair of black stiletto heels that have bright red soles. I dried my hair, leaving it down in natural waves, and kept my make-up simple, apart from the blood-red lipstick. I stare at my reflection, quite liking this outfit. It’s me, if I was a powerful businesswoman. I take a slow steady breath in. A full day of acting that I am someone that I’m not. I can do this.

I turn and grab my purse, and as I do I spot Nyx putting on his crisp white shirt. I allow my eyes to briefly appreciate the hard lines of his tattooed body as he slowly does up each button. How did I not notice those tattoos earlier? Clearly, I was clouded by anger to not take in the details of his naked form earlier. Man, I hate how good his body is.

He clears his throat, catching me eying him up. “You want to work out some of that anger on me, by all means,” he goads.

I roll my eyes and flip him off. “I’m fed up waiting for you, so I will see you down there,” I state, opening the door and walking out, not bothering to wait for his response.

I make my way down each step, holding my head high and going over the plans in my head, which was difficult considering I had no idea what to expect. I just need to keep the act up and play the long game until the night of the ball.

Keep calm, don’t falter, get the information, I repeat like a mantra inside my mind.

As I reach the bottom step, Penny is there to greet me. “Is Lord O’Connor not joining you for breakfast?” she asks.

I give her a side glance. “I am not his keeper. He will be down to get his own breakfast when he is ready,” I state sharply. I inhale deeply. I need to bury my dislike for Nyx. “He will be down shortly, I’m sure. He decided to have a little workout this morning.” I grin.

Penny nods without a slither of emotion on her face. I wonder if they are given special training, to shut down any emotional responses to a situation. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know it’s impossible, I’d think they were robots.

I enter the orangery, noting the beautiful green plants lining the wall to wall windowed room. The beautiful natural sunlight warms and lights up the stunning room. Penny leads me to a table overlooking the expansive grounds. I stand there for a moment, just staring out at the rolling green fields and the wildflowers, giving the view a pop of vibrant colours.

“It has always been one of my favourite views,” a deep voice states close behind me.

I jump slightly and whirl to see who it is, wobbling on my heels. Henry. He reaches out, placing his hands on my waist to steady me. I fight every fiber in me to not shove him off me, and instead, I force a smile to my face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he states with a hint of amusement in his eyes, his hands still firmly on my waist.

I clear my throat and try to shift out of his hold, but he doesn’t take the queue and keeps his hands on me. “No, it’s my fault. I was captured by your beautiful land,” I compliment as I again try to step out of his hold.

His hands tighten, his fingers digging in firmly as he leans in. “I must say, Miss Fox, I find you very intriguing,” he whispers near my ear. My skin prickles in warning and my body stiffens. My fists clench at my sides, so tight my nails dig deep into the palm of my hands. “Well, I can assure you that nothing is intriguing about me. I’m known for being rather boring,” I quip, as I try again to subtly pull away from his hold. If we were anywhere else, I would have had him on the floor with a broken nose by now. I can feel my resolve wearing thin.

“Henry, get your hands off my woman,” I hear Nyx demand behind us. He grabs my hand, giving me a swift yank to him. I tumble into his chest, his arms coming around my waist.

Henry smirks, shrugging. “You can’t blame an old man for trying. Leaving her unattended around here is dangerous. Anyone could snatch her.” Henry smiles, but his tone is laced with a threatening promise that has me feeling sick to my stomach.

Nyx chuckles. “I am a lucky son of a bitch. I will make sure to take better of my things.”

MY THINGS?! MY THINGS?! The blatant fucking sexism. I try to break away from Nyx’s hold, but his grip tightens.

“Miss Fox, until next time.” Henry grins as he retreats back to his table. “That’s a promise, Nyx,” Henry adds.

“Motherf—” I begin to mutter through gritted teeth, but Nyx jabs his fingers in my side to shut me up.

“Trust me, I won’t be making the same mistake again.” Nyx laughs as he turns our backs on Henry and pulls out my chair for me.

I sit down, facing him like a sulking child. Nyx sits down opposite me, and after he pulls out his napkin, he flicks it with his wrist before placing it on his lap. He clicks his fingers and servers come rushing over like it’s life or death, and start placing platters of fruits and pastries down, while another fills my mug with fresh coffee. I fight the urge to pick it up and sniff the beautiful liquid, and instead I keep my glare firmly fixed on Nyx. He continues to load his plate with a croissant and some fresh berries. I wait for the servers to disappear, giving one of them a tight grin as they leave, then lean forward.

“I had it under control,” I say through gritted teeth.

Nyx picks up his coffee and takes a long sip before placing it back down. “What you had was a situation you couldn’t get out of. Tell me, what is it you would have done? Punched him? Tackled him to the ground?” he asks, arching his brow.

I grab hold of the butter knife tightly in my fist and contemplate how easy it would be just to end him right now. Then I could end fucking Henry, and all would be right in the world.

“I have other ways of disarming a man without it becoming physical,” I snap.

“Really? I guess I was just lucky, then?” he quips. His eyes flicker to my hand gripping the butter knife, so tight I’m surprised it doesn’t snap. “And what do you plan to do with that?” He smirks.

I calmly place the knife down and reach over, holding his hand. To anyone else it just looks like I’m being affectionate. When in reality, I have hold of his middle finger in such a way, one quick move and I would break it. Nyx’s jaw tenses. I smile lovingly.

“Just remember we share a room, and you really don’t want to start pissing me off before I’ve had coffee,” I warn.

“This is a funny thank you for saving you back there,” he retorts, taking a bite of his croissant.

“You did not save me!” I hiss. “I don’t need saving, and I will never need saving, but even if the tiniest chance came along that I would need saving, you would be the last person I would ask for help. Know this, Nyx O’Connor. Not now, nor will I ever need a man to save me,” I state firmly.

“Fuck, you’re stubborn,” he mutters, surprising me. He is speaking so crass down here. I quickly look around to make sure no one heard him.

“You say stubborn, I say strong and independent,” I counter as I release my hold on his hand and grab a strawberry, taking a large bite out of it while smirking at him.

“No matter what you may think of me, or what I think of you, I will never stand back while a man mistreats a woman,” he says with honesty in his voice.

“How very chivalrous of you.” I snort, knowing I sound incredibly bitchy. I pause, placing two sugars in my coffee. “I apologise. I suppose it’s good to know there are some men out there that don’t treat women like an object,” I add.

“Careful, Miss Fox, or I will take that as a compliment,” Nyx teases. I subtly reach for the cream while flipping him the middle finger, for only him to see. A chuckle escapes him, and I can’t help but smile in return.

Enemies with a mutual respect. I’m not sure that is possible, but it is what this feels like.

CHAPTER TEN

MORRIGAN

This is insane. I know Edna said about the horse racing, but I wasn’t expecting this, and by the look on her face, she wasn’t, either. “Well, he kept this hidden,” Edna mutters as we watch ten horses and jockeys get ready to race.

“This is nearly as big as the Kentucky Derby!” I blurt out.

“Not quite, dear. They have nineteen horses. This is merely a personal version for our entertainment,” one of the men states, smirking at me like I’m stupid.

“I have an Olympic sized pool and a diving board. We often host gala events and water polo,” Sherry boasts.

“Interesting. I shall have to keep an out for my invite to your next event,” Nyx says cockily.

Sherry merely gives him a flirty look. “I shall make sure you are at the top of the list, Lord O’Connor,” she purrs.

I roll my eyes. Does she want to just start humping his leg? She couldn’t be more obvious.

“Do you have any space or sport facility, Miss Fox?” a man called William asks.

I can’t help it. The smart ass just rises to the service and I’m unable to hold back. “I have the world’s largest sex club,” I state blankly. Edna chokes on her champagne next to me and I pat her back. “Of course, it holds the world’s largest dildo and butt plug, too,” I add casually. “If you would ever like an invite to one of our events, I would be more than happy to make sure you get one,” I say with a smile.

“Well, that is just uncouth.” Sherry tuts.

“Now, come on, Sherry. I think you’d rather enjoy it. Lord knows you already walk around with something firmly shoved up your rear,” I snipe.

Her mouth drops open. “How dare you!” she gasps.

Meanwhile, Edna is howling with laughter beside me, and a few of the men let out a chuckle; her husband included.

“You cannot talk to me like that,” she huffs.

“Relax, Sherry. I’m just teasing. Isn’t that right, gentlemen? It’s just harmless business banter.” I smirk, sipping my champagne. The men laugh and she slinks away, probably to soothe her ego.

“I knew the moment I saw you that you would make this weekend unforgettable,” Edna beams.

“Come on, Edna. Let’s place some bets.” I smile, linking my arm through hers and lead her towards the bookkeeper stationed to the right of us. I catch Henry talking in the far corner with a man I haven’t really paid that much attention to. He’s kept himself to himself for the most part. Their conversation looks heated, if Henry’s sour face is anything to go by. “Edna, who is Henry talking to?” I ask.

Edna’s gaze follows mine. “That is Lance Walker. He deals a lot in shipping and exports.”

My heart jitters. He has to be the one organising the shipping of the girls. Damn it, why can’t I have some cool tech that I could take photos with, or listen in with a tiny earpiece? “Maybe I should meet with Lance. He could do me a deal on shipping my products further,” I state.

“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t. There are rumours about him, and if they’re true, I wouldn’t want anything to do with him,” Edna mutters quietly.

My gaze snaps to hers. “Like what?” I press.

She shakes her head. “I can’t discuss it here. Just trust an old lady,” she says, patting my arm.

I don’t push her any further. I’m learning that Edna, albeit older, is a strong and stern woman. I’m pretty sure you could never make her do something she didn’t want to do.

After placing our bets, we walk back to the stands where our assistants are waiting for us, standing behind our chairs with their arms at their backs, staring straight ahead. We take our seats and immediately they are filling our glasses with fresh, ice cold water. I almost wanted to order something ridiculous, just to see if they could supply. I take a sip of my water, actually enjoying the break from champagne.

“Oh my god, what is in this water?’ I gasp.

Penny is in front of me, frantic. “I will get it immediately changed. I am so sorry,” she apologises.

“No, no. It’s incredible,” I correct her.

I notice her take a small exhale of breath. “It’s from the springs of the Himalayas, just last week.”

I look at her like she’s lost the plot. “You’re telling me that this water was flowing through the Himalayas just seven days ago, and now it’s in my glass?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Penny nods. “It’s what makes it taste so incredibly fresh.” She nods. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asks.

“A rainbow unicorn with glitter on its ass that shits gold nuggets?” I blurt out. I quickly clamp my mouth shut, realising I yet again let the sarcastic me surface.

Penny blinks at me stunned. Edna, meanwhile, roars with uncontrollable laughter next to me.

“I was joking. That will be all,” I add, inserting a little snobbery into my tone. Penny nods and returns back to standing behind me.

“You grew up in a normal home, didn’t you?” Edna asks, wiping the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.

“Well, I wouldn’t say normal,” I answer truthfully.

She nods. “That’s why I knew I liked you. You have made yourself a success, unlike all these leeches.” She leans in. “I’m sorry to say that even your man Nyx...” She shakes her head. “He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. You can tell by the way he acts all entitled.” She nods, her eyes on Nyx chatting to a group of men; the same group of men who belittled me yesterday.

“He is. I think he’s only with me to try a bit of common.” I snort.

Edna smirks. “You are good for him. I can see it. You keep him on his toes.” She nods.

What I wanted to say was stamp on his toes more like. The man was infuriating, and he was an entitled, arrogant pig. I wish I was able to contact Betsy. She would be able to run a full check on him, then I would know exactly who he is and why he is here. Then I could eradicate him and do what I have to do without feeling like I’m having to watch my back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the race is about to start,” a voice announces over the speaker.

I grab hold of the gold binoculars that we are all provided with and brace ourselves, ready for the race to begin. All those stood around chatting move to their seats, and Nyx comes and takes his seat next to mine. I breathe in the scent of his cologne. Damn, I hate that he smells so good.

“I caught you looking at Lance Walker,” he whispers in my ear.

I shift and face him. “And?” I ask, arching a brow.

He leans on his elbow, his thumb and forefinger stroking his bottom lip. “It’s interesting to me that you appear to be interested in him,” he states coyly.

Leaning over, I brush my cheek against his rough stubble. “Jealous?” I whisper, my lips ever so lightly grazing his lobe. “Who I am interested in is none of your business. Now, be a good little boy and let me enjoy the race,” I add before shifting back into my seat.

A gun echoes, signifying the start of the race. I forget to use my binoculars and watch with my own eyes, looking for my horse; lucky number three. The men all start cheering and yelling at their horses, and the excitement and adrenaline radiates around us.

I watch as my horse takes the lead, and I jump to my feet. “Come on, Master Bates! Come on!” I yell, jumping up and down. Of course, I chose the horse with a rude innuendo. It just seemed fitting with what I was supposed to be to everyone. “Come first, Master Bates. Faster! Ride him harder!” I yell as he falls back into second place. The finish line is fast approaching. “Hard and fast, that’s what you need. Come on, baby!” I clap excitedly, completely lost in the moment. “Yes, yes. Just like that!” Master Bates pushes through and wins it by a nose. “Yes! Master Bates came first!” I cheer.

It's then that I notice that everyone is quiet and looking at me. I look around, wondering why I have become so interesting to watch all of a sudden. I feel a firm hand glide around my waist, and the scent of Nyx lets me know it’s him.

“Interesting little show, Sparky,” he whispers in my ear, his voice full of amusement. A shiver rolls over me, and I mentally chastise myself for it. He lets go of my waist and takes my hand in his. “Let’s go get your winnings,” he states leading me down the steps.

I look at Edna, who looks like she’s been crying. I pause, forcing Nyx to stop. “Edna, is everything alright?” I ask.

She wipes her eyes one last time before she grins. “Oh, my dear, you should be a comedian.” She chuckles.

I frown, wondering what the fuck she is on about. Nyx leads me to the bookkeeper to collect my winnings. “Congratulations, madam. Your winnings.” He hands me a black velvet bag, and when I open it, I see it’s full of gold!

Holy fuck! I scream internally while keeping my mask firmly in its place.

“Thank you,” I say with a subtle nod.

“Walk with me,” Nyx demands, his hand firmly on my elbow as he leads me over to the far side. I stop at the railing and look out at the horses being led back to the stables. He places a hand on my lower back, his thumb moving in slow, soft strokes. I want to flinch away, liking the feel of it all too much, so instead I keep everything locked up and endure it. After all, we are supposed to be dating.

“So, what do you want? Some of my gold. If it would make you fuck off, I will happily give you the entire bag,” I state.

He arches his brow. “You would give me one hundred thousand dollars worth of gold just to make me leave?” he asks.

My eyes go wide. “Woah, I thought it was like ten thousand,” I mutter, lifting up the bag and feeling the weight of it.

“I need to know what your plan is,” he states quietly.

I stare at him with an expression that simply says fuck off, while wondering why he is even asking me this. “Why would I tell you anything? We have both made it very clear that we are enemies with an understanding. You stay out of my way, I will stay out of yours,” I state, repeating our agreement.

“I saw the way you looked at Lance. He’s a part of your plan, isn’t he?” he presses.

I frown and step back out of his touch. “Maybe I just want to fuck him,” I quip.

His jaw tightens. “This isn’t the time for fucking games, Valentina.”

“I wasn’t playing,” I retort. “Look, I have something I need to do. Leave me alone to do it. You interfere, and I will blow your cover to Henry,” I warn, turning away.

He grabs my arm and yanks me back to him, my body colliding with his. “I don’t respond well to threats.”

I look down at his hold on my arm. “And I don’t respond well to being forcibly grabbed,” I snap back. We glare at each other a moment longer, a battle of wills on who will back down first before he finally releases his hold.

I begin to walk back over to Edna. “Valentina,” he calls. I stop and turn back around to face him.

“There are games for the rest of today and tomorrow,” he states, his expression unreadable.

“What games, and how do you know that?” I ask, frowning.

“I just do.” He swallows, as if internally battling something. He runs his fingers through his hair. “How about a wager?” he suggests.

I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m listening.” I nod.

“I win, you step aside. Let me do what I came to do,” he proposes.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping you,” I cut in.

He shakes his head. “Something tells me if we both continue what we are doing, it’s going to fuck up one of our plans, and I would rather that not be mine.” He pauses, running his fingers through his short dark hair again. I’m starting to realise he does this when he’s restless. “Now, the same goes for you. If you win, I will step back,” he adds, his vibrant eyes searing through mine. No hint of a lie to be seen.

“That doesn’t leave me or you a lot of time,” I point out.

“It’s enough. The final day is Monday, when everyone leaves. We stop after the final games on Sunday afternoon, meaning the ball Sunday night is off limits.”

“We already made a deal, and then less than twenty four hours you’re already backtracking and changing. What is to say you won’t do it again? I don’t have time to waste, as I’m sure you don’t, either,” I argue.

“This is exactly why I’m changing the terms of our agreement. Neither of us will get anywhere. I’m not about to let you win, and I know you aren’t, either. You’re too scrappy to back down from a challenge.” He smirks.

I shrug. “Okay, fine. As I don’t have a lot of other options, I guess I’m in. So, what are the games?” I ask.

He gives me a tight grin. “First one is about to be announced, but first, we need to seal the deal,” he states, stepping closer into my personal space.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I whisper hiss at him, ignoring how good he smells or feels pressed against me.

“We are being watched, and we have gone from the couple caught fucking in Henry’s library, to barely touching. So, you’re going to have to kiss me,” he says softly, leaning in, his breath dancing across my lips.

“Absolutely not,” I refuse.

“Just one kiss, to keep the ruse believable,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine. My breaths turn shallow. I run my tongue along his bottom lip, the tip just slightly grazing his bottom lip. His fingertips slowly glide up my arm, dancing along my collarbone and up my neck, where he cups my cheek, his thumb caressing my cheek. “One kiss,” he rasps.

I don’t answer. I close the final distance, pressing my mouth to his, caving in. His lips meet mine slowly, cautiously, as if he’s waiting for me to strike him at any moment. I nip his bottom lip between my teeth before releasing it. I break the kiss, looking into his eyes, silently challenging him. He lets out a low growl as his fingers move and thread through the hair at the nape of my neck, gripping tightly. He yanks my head back and crashes his mouth to mine. The tenderness is gone, and now it’s a battle. Our mouths and tongue duel, fighting, demanding. It’s infuriating and exhilarating, igniting a fire within me. He suddenly breaks the kiss, resting his temple on mine as both of us try to catch our breath.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

Fuck, indeed. My senses slowly begin to restore, and I force myself to take a step back. His hand falls away, releasing my hair. I look around to see people looking on and gossiping. His gaze is molten, pinning me in place. I clear my throat and push my shoulders back, shutting out the way he’s looking at me. That kiss sparked something inside me I’ve never felt before.

“Game on, Lord O’Connor,” I state cooly.

He smirks. “Oh Sparky, after we’ve kissed like that, you can call me Nyx.” He winks.

I roll my eyes and walk away, flipping him off with my middle finger, not giving a rat’s ass what those stuck-up assholes think.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MORRIGAN

“Now ladies, you may find the kick back a little too much, and no one will think bad of your for tapping out. We don’t want you bruising and ruining your body for those lovely ballgowns on Sunday night,” Henry says. It’s late in the afternoon and this is the first of the many games that Henry has set up.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Henry. My father took me shooting every weekend in the summer when I was a child,” Sherry says, waving him off. For once, I’m liking Sherry.

We all step up to our table where protective headphones are placed, along with a choice of guns. We are out in the open and there are no targets to hit, so I’m wondering what exactly it is we are shooting.

“Okay, now the moving targets will come out of that barn over there. Your bullets each have an individual marker on them, so we will know who has won.”

“What are our targets?” I ask as I pick up the Glock 18 pistol.

Henry grins. “Now that would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it?” he asks as he moves out of the way. Edna had gone for a lie down, saying she felt a little dizzy. I feel Henry’s gaze on me, and I try not to shift uncomfortably. I look to Nyx, whose eyes are on Henry. “Okay, ready?” Henry bellows as he moves further to the side, waving a hand.

A loud klaxon irrupts and the barn doors open. I train my gun on the door and wait for the tiniest of movement, I wonder if there has been an error. Then suddenly, people start piling out. My mouth drops open, stunned. Others start firing at them and the sound makes me jump. What the fuck is going on? They look like homeless addicts.

“Now, now, Miss Fox. No need to have a conscience. They would all be dead within six months. You are doing them a favour.” Henry laughs.

The others around me chuckle as they continue to fire. Someone hits a poor man in the leg, and he cries out and falls to the floor. They keep firing, and even though their aims are terrible, they still hit them on random body parts. Not killing them but merely injuring them. The cries and screams coming from them will haunt my dreams. I blink and look at Henry. He’s watching; it’s a test. He’s testing me. I grit my jaw and take aim at a guy holding his bleeding arm, panicked and running.

Sherry laughs. “It’s fun to watch them squirm.”

I swallow the bile that threatens to rise up my throat. My heart is beating so hard and fast in my chest, and I’m finding it hard to regulate my breathing. I have to kill innocent people, because if I don’t, what then? What will Henry do? I bite down hard on my bottom lip, take my aim, exhale a loose breath, and pull the trigger, watching as my bullet hits him directly between the eyes. He drops to the ground, dead. I exhale a breath, feeling tears sting the back of my eyes.

I blink rapidly, keeping the tears, the weakness locked down. I can break later. This isn’t my first time taking a life, but it’s the first time I’ve ever killed an innocent person.

Nyx fires and kills an older guy, while the others fire freely, toying with them, making their final moment horrific and agonising.

Locking down my inner turmoil, I fire my gun again and again in quick succession, taking out each and every one of them until there is nothing but silence. I stand there completely rigid, the gun gripped so tight in my hand I can’t put it down. I can’t move. I’ve just shot and killed innocent people; people that were already struggling through their lives. They came here for what? What did Henry promise them? A way out? Drugs? I feel sick to my stomach.

“Valentina,” I hear murmured. I just stand there, unblinking. “Valentina,” is repeated again. I frown and turn my head slightly, seeing Nyx. He steps forward and cups my face. “Come with me,” he instructs, carefully uncurling my fingers from the gun.

“Oh dear, too much for Miss Fox, was it?” Henry jokes.

“Not now, Henry,” Nyx sighs, irritated.

“Wait, don’t forget your trophy,” Sherry says, laughing.

Ignoring her, Nyx leads me back to the house and upstairs to our room. Closing the door behind us, he leads me into the bathroom and closes the door behind us. He begins running the huge, clawed bathtub while I stand there in the middle of the room, completely emotionless. The horror of what I’ve just done repeats over and over in my head. I’m as bad as them. Just as evil and as cruel as them.

“Let’s get you in the tub,” Nyx states.

I allow him to undress me, not caring at being naked in front of him. Right now it is completely insignificant. He leads me to the bath and helps me in, and as I lower myself into the hot soapy water, Nyx pulls an extravagant chair from the corner of the room over and sits next to me. I lay back and just stare straight ahead, staring at the slow but steady drip of the tap.

“I should have warned you about this. I’m sorry,” he sighs.

I slowly turn to look at him. “You knew and you didn’t warn me?” I ask. His jaw is set tight, but he gives me a sharp nod. “I killed people; innocent people. I will forever have that on my conscious. I will forever replay the image of their lifeless bodies dropping to the floor like they are nothing but garbage,” I croak out. My voice breaks with the raw emotion clawing its way through my body. He looks down at his hands, and my teeth grinds with pure fury and hatred, and not just for him, but myself, too. “You didn’t think I would do it,” I state, reading the expression on his face. “You didn’t think I would go through with it and that would be a point to you. You cared more about gaining a fucking point than those poor innocent people’s lives.” I choke back a sob. I will not cry in front of him. He does not deserve to see my pain, and he does not deserve to witness my personal torment. “Get out,” I fume.

His head snaps up and his usually vibrant blue eyes are full of regret. Too late for that. I know the lengths he’s willing to go, and now so am I. I was clearly too weak before, but not anymore. I will take Henry down, and Nyx, too. He thought we were enemies before, but he hasn’t seen nothing yet.

“I...” He pauses, as if wanting to say more, but something is restraining him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

It’s not an apology. I’ve heard more heartfelt apologies from murderers about to be sent to prison. “I said get out. Get out of the room. Get out!” I seethe.

“I can’t change the room, or us.” He pauses, gesturing between the both of us. “That is your cover, just as much as it’s mine,” he protests.

“I have known you for all of twenty-four hours, and in that time you have insulted me, grabbed me, unwillingly kissed me, and set me up to kill innocent people. If you think I am climbing in that bed next to you, then you have another thing coming,” I state before I stand. The soapy bubbled water runs down my naked body as I climb out of the tub and grab a bath robe, wrapping it around my body. “Before it was a game, a challenge, to get what either of us wanted. Now? Now it’s fucking war,” I fume through gritted teeth.

Storming out of the bathroom, I stride to the wardrobe and pull out one of the elegant evening gowns; a long black mermaid style dress. It hugs my body and flares out at the hem, creating a graceful and dramatic effect. Its high halter neck bares my shoulders with a split running from the base of my neck, down to just above my naval, revealing the hint of cleavage. It also has a high thigh split, revealing ample amount of leg. As much as I hated wearing dresses, and I hated the designer stuff, I loved this dress. It was sexy, elegant, and it made me feel powerful.

“What are you doing?” Nyx asks behind me. I walk over to the dressing table and begin to apply my make-up.

“I’m getting ready for tonight’s dinner,” I answer coldly.

“So, you’re just okay now? That moment of practically being a traumatised zombie was nothing?” he states sarcastically.

“Yep,” I answer, not paying him any attention. Even though I still feel that guilt deep in my gut, I’m forcing that guilt into rage, into pure fury, to make sure Henry fucking Sparks pays for all the pain he’s caused.

I put my hair up into a low bun, pinning it with a pear and crystal pin, leaving a few tendrils of hair framing my face. I finish with some perfume and apply my blood-red lipstick. As I stare at my reflection, my face is cold and hard of stone. No more joking around. I stand and walk over to the closet and grab my pair of red strappy stiletto heels off the rack.

As I am about to put them on, Nyx takes them from me and kneels down on one leg. He gently lifts my leg, resting my foot on his thigh. His hand holds out the shoe and I lift my foot slightly for him to put it on, before placing my now heeled foot back on his thigh. His fingertips graze the skin around my ankle as he fastens the clasp. I stare down at him, my face a perfect mask of indifference. He does the same with the other shoe before standing before me.

“You look dangerously beautiful,” he compliments. I look him up and down, noting he had changed too while I was getting ready. His fitted black suit and black shirt is unbuttoned to revel a hint of his muscled chest. I turn and grab my red clutch bag, and with only a couple of bits of make-up in it, the bag is actually pointless, but somehow, it completes the outfit.

I don’t wait for Nyx to open the door. I open it myself and storm ahead of him, making sure that with each stride I put an extra swing in my hips and keep my head held high. I walk with confidence, my expression warning people to stay the fuck away. I catch people glancing my way, the murmurs of what happened this afternoon the topic of their gossip. I feel Nyx close beside me, still playing the part of dutiful boyfriend. I spot Edna at the far end of the ridiculously long table with two empty seats beside her. I take my seat and Nyx sits beside me.

Edna looks at me, her mature and wise eyes assessing me. “My dear girl, what on earth happened?” she asks quietly.

“Nothing in particular,” I state.

She bristles. “Lies. After dinner, you are to come to my room for a night cap. There you will tell me, away from the prying ears of these nitwits,” she mutters with utter distaste. I can’t fight the urge to smile at her blatant disregard for those around us.

“Edna, can I ask you a question?” I ask.

She takes a sip of her champagne, her enormous diamond clinking with her glass. “Ask me anything.” She nods.

“If you hate these people so much, then why do you bother coming to these events?” I ask.

She gives me a tight smile. “Because I am old, and I am lonely. A rich old lady doesn’t exactly get a lot of company. So even company I dislike is still company,” she answers honestly.

I nod in understanding. “For what it’s worth Edna, I am grateful you came, because I got to meet you. Although, in future, don’t waste your money or your time on this vile event.” My words are dripping with malice. Edna arches her brow, noticing my change in tone. “In future, we will make arrangements to meet regularly. I will introduce you to some decent people,” I tell her truthfully, and I will. Once this is over and Henry is rotting six feet under, then I will make sure she isn’t lonely anymore. Edna smiles warmly and pats my hand.

“I would like that very much,” she beams. A chime of someone clinking their glass silences everyone’s chatter. Henry stands at the foot of the table, and his gloating smile feels like a red hot poker under my skin.

“My wonderful guests, I would like to start to say how pleased I am that Miss Fox has recovered from her funny turn this afternoon and is able to grace us with her utterly stunning presence,” he says, his eyes lingering on me for a moment too long.

I think I shall remove his eyes first, then chop off his hands, while I get one of the girls to slowly slide a knitting needle through the end of his penis. I grin, imagining that scenario.

“What has you smiling like that?” Nyx whispers in my ear as Henry continues his speech.

I look at Nyx square in the eye. “The promise of death,” I state with a smile. He blinks and I turn my attention back to Henry.

“I won’t keep you from your food a moment longer, but eat up and enjoy. Tomorrow’s games will be magnificent.” He claps. “Oh, one last thing, for those looking to join our masked event later tonight. That will be held in the blue room. Just ask your assistant to guide you,” he states, looking at me.

“What’s the masked event?” I mutter with confusion.

“An orgy,” Nyx answers.

I snap my gaze to his. “You’re not serious?” I ask in disbelief.

He nods. “I am, and clearly Henry wants you there.”

I shudder and fight the urge to gag. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with Henry. One, it would be sickening, and two, I don’t think I could withhold the urge not to crush his dick in my hands.

We eat dinner and I chat with Edna, mainly ignoring Nyx. I hear him chatting with the man on his left about stocks and shares in something or other. All of it is rather boring. Once the dinner is over, a few go to the billiard room to continue their night, while I go with Edna up to her room.

I slip away without Nyx knowing where I’ve gone, not that he would care.

Walking into Edna’s room, I notice she has an entire small bar set up. I’m guessing at her request. She instructs her assistant to make us both the cocktail; an old-fashioned, and I can’t help but grin as it’s one of my favourite drinks. Once it’s made, Edna hands him a large wedge of money and whispers something before he disappears out of the room.

I lift my glass and smell the aroma of whiskey and the citrus in the drink. “What did you tell him?” I ask, taking a sip of my drink and fighting the urge to moan at how delicious it is. I wonder if the Savage Sisters could hire him, or if he would be interested in being a lap dog. Wouldn’t need him for sex, but if he makes cocktails like this, then I will happily give him anything he wanted.

Edna doesn’t answer right away. Suddenly, there is a random pattern of knocking on the door. I look at Edna, then back at the door, wondering why she isn’t answering it.

She sighs and turns her attention to me. “Now we can really talk. Without being watched or listened to,” she states.

“You know they are watching?” I ask in disbelief.

She nods. “I know everything Henry does. I’m old, dear, not stupid. I know what you did just this afternoon,” she adds.

That gnawing guilt resurfaces, bubbling away in my stomach. I place my glass down and rest my head in my hands. “I, I, I...” I stutter, not sure what to say. I’m sorry doesn’t quite cut it.

“Enough of that.” she chastises. I look at her. “We have all been made to do things in our lifetime that we are not proud of, things that will live with us until the day we take our very last breath. Henry knew exactly what he was doing today. He was testing you. Seeing if you would partake. Be one of them,” she states.

“I should have refused. I just...” I pause. What can I say? I couldn’t let him think I was anything other than who I am pretending to be. I couldn’t give the game away.

“If you had refused, you would be dead,” she cuts in.

My eyes go wide, looking at her. “I, what, why?” I stutter in confusion.

She sighs, taking a sip of her drink. “These people aren’t just wealthy, they are dangerous. All of them. By inviting you here, they are seeing if you are worthy of being part of their organisation,” she states.

Shit, Betsy and Eden didn’t know. The invite list isn’t just organised by his people. It’s personally selected for this organisation. Then that would mean he either knows I’m not who I say I am, or he at least knows I rigged the invite. But if that was the case, then why still send a car for me? Why still invite me here to witness everything? I frown. Then that would also mean the same for Nyx? Unless he is who he says he is, and they did invite him? I hold my head in my hands again. This is all just one big mess. Fuck. It’s then that it hits. Did Isabella set us up? Did she know this? Did she do this on purpose? Damn it, I wish I could contact Eden and ask her. Warn her.

“Ah, I see wangling your way onto the guest list has backfired.” Edna snorts.

I look at her. “I don’t know.” I pause, trying to process what exactly is happening.

“Please, I knew you weren’t one of us the moment you walked through those doors. Everyone else on the other end aren’t as smart as this old cookie. Well, I can’t speak about Henry, because he will know you fixed the invite for yourself.” She shrugs.

I grab my drink and knock it back. “Those people this afternoon, was that real?” I ask, wondering now if everything has just been one big set-up.

Edna sadly nods. “But there is something you should know. Those people were already dying. He selects people that either don’t have long to live, or they are so lost to the drugs, their body has no way of recovering. He offers them a deal, sends their family money, promises to take care of their loved ones if they have any. For those that don’t… Well, he just offers them the best drugs that will give them their best and last ever high,” she says sadly.

I get up, unable to sit and process everything she’s just told me. I pace back and forth as my mind works overtime, rubbing at my temples. None of this makes any sense. If Henry knows I’m a fake, or even if he thinks I’m some businesswoman just trying to further my career by coming here, then he would have known Nyx and I aren’t really a thing, right? Then he must know Nyx isn’t Nyx, or Nyx is Nyx, and there is something else entirely going on that I just can’t figure out.

“Girl, will you sit down and stop wearing down the antique carpet?” Edna tuts.

I look at her, wondering if I tell her why I’m here, who I am, but I can’t risk it. For all that, Edna seems like a friend, a nice person, she’s still part of all this.

I sit back in the chair and knock back the rest of my drink, feeling the whiskey in it burning my throat. “What does Henry know?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, dear, but what I have heard through the assistants gossiping is that if you last the weekend, he’s going to enrol you.” She nods.

Okay, that’s good, right? That means he doesn’t know who I really am. Only that I forged my way onto this retreat.

Breathe, I’ve still got this. I am a rich and powerful businesswoman here to further my career and money.

Something suddenly occurs to me. “You said you’ve never seen Nyx at one of these events before,” I state. “Is that true?” I ask. The thought of him knowing about the various games that will be set too loud to ignore. Edna purses her lips. “Edna,” I press.

She sighs. “It’s the first time he’s attended, but not the first time he’s been to one.”

I frown, wondering what she means, when it clicks. “He was one of the staff,” I blurt out.

Edna nods. “He was Henry’s assistant at every single one of these events,” she divulges.

“How did he come into money to be one of you?” I ask.

“He hasn’t,” she answers simply.

“He’s still working for Henry,” I state, and Edna nods. “He’s there to spy on me?” I press. Edna nods again.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” she adds.

The hatred I had for Nyx now grows tenfold. I turn to Edna. “One more question, then I promise I won’t ask anymore,” I state. “Why are you telling me all this?” I ask.

She smiles. “Because I like you, and whatever your reasons you have for being here, I hope you succeed and wipe that smug smile off of Henry’s face.” She grins.

My lips tip up slightly before I exhale a long breath. “Edna, fancy getting shitfaced to forget the day’s events?” I ask, desperately wanting to drown myself in a bottle of whiskey and shut my mind off.

“My girl, I thought you would never ask.” She laughs, pressing a button on the table, and her door suddenly opens and in walks her assistant. “Be a dear and make us another round. Doubles this time,” she orders.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods with a small smile.

A few hours later, we are well into the early hours of the morning, and Edna and I are so drunk. She’s fallen out of her chair twice, and I am wearing one of her diamond encrusted tiaras.

“Oh, how do you do? I am Princess Bitch Face.” I snort.

“You would make a spectacular princess.” Edna laughs on a yawn. “Oh god, I need to go to bed. I’m an old lady.” She sighs.

I laugh as I remove her tiara and place it back in her huge jewellery box. “Well, it’s been fun. Thank you, Edna,” I say, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek, but I stumble and fall past her lap and land on the floor with a thud. “Oh, shit!” I laugh.

Edna cackles, laughing with me. She clicks her fingers for her assistant to help me up. “Take her back to her room, and make sure she’s gets there safely. I don’t trust any of those old perverts,” Edna states firmly.

Her assistant helps me to my feet and walks me to the door. “Until tomorrow!” I yell over my shoulder as we leave.

Paul, her assistant, walks me back to my room. I stumble a couple of times, but thankfully, he manages to stop me from face-planting the floor.

“Tell me, Paul, do you know Nyx?” I ask him. He awkwardly looks away. I snort. “Fuck, you all think I’m the laughingstock.” We reach the room and before I can open it, the door is fiercely swung open by an angry, bare chested Nyx.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he snaps.

I frown. “Out. I should have known, with all those tattoos.” I look down and spot a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Oh, drink!” I say, happily reaching forward and snatching it from his hand and knocking it back. “Oooooh, that burns!” I wheeze. I push past Nyx and stumble into the room, ignoring whatever whispered words are being exchanged by Nyx and Paul and flop down face first on the bed. “It’s rude to whisper,” I mumble into the covers. I hear the door close and then I’m being hauled up to my feet. “Hey!” I protest.

“Shut up. I’m just putting you into bed properly,” he chastises.

My head flops against his chest. “I hate you, Nyx O’Connor,” I mumble.

“Thanks,” he answers, his deep voice vibrating under my ear. He lays me down and I roll onto my side, my eyes remaining closed.

“Asshole,” I sigh. Then darkness covers me as I black out.

CHAPTER TWELVE

NYX

I sat in the chair all night, waiting for her to return. The woman infuriates me. She manages to piss me off in everything she does, and now she lays there fast asleep, lightly snoring. I look up at the camera in the corner of the room and flip it off before taking another long swig of my whiskey. I rub my face. Shit, it’s all just become a fucking mess. If she had only not fucking caught me in the library. I lean my head against the back of the chair, looking up at the ceiling. I need to stay focused. There isn’t room for errors, and yet there has been so many already.

I finish my drink and then remove my pants before sliding into bed beside her. Laying there watching her sleep, with her dark hair splayed along her pillow is fucking with my head. I lean over and place a kiss on her lips.

“Hmm, asshole,” she mumbles in protest, still fast asleep. I smirk. Even in her sleep the woman has her walls up fighting. I close my eyes, pull her to me, and fall asleep.

I’m woken by a crying, panicked voice. I blink a few times, just to make sure I’m not dreaming.

“No, no. Stop.” I turn and see Valentina thrashing around in her sleep, her body covered in sweat with tears streaming down her cheeks. I reach for her, trying to gently stroke and pat her cheek, but it does nothing.

“Shit,” I mutter. Getting up, I walk around to her side of the bed, and as I bend down, I scoop her up my arms. She is still crying, pleading. I sit on the chair, holding her, cradling her to my chest, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her. Slowly, her crying stops and her body relaxes into mine. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, Sparky.” I assure her. I put my feet up on the footstool and reach for the blanket, draping it over us both before drifting back off to sleep.

“What the fuck?” I hear her breathe out.

Keeping my eyes closed, she shifts on my lap, causing me to groan. “Sit fucking still,” I mumble.

“Why am I on your lap? Oh, my god, did we? Oh shit, did we have sex last night?” she asks.

I open my eyes to see her looking mortified. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to fuck with her and tell her we did. “No, we didn’t. If we fucked, you would remember it the next morning,” I say, stretching my arms above my head. “You were having a nightmare,” I tell her.

Her face falls. “Oh.” She pauses. “Was it bad?” she asks.

“It wasn’t great,” I say honestly.

She nods. “Sorry.” She climbs off my lap, still in her black dress, her hair a mess. “Oh god.” She winces, holding her head.

“In the fridge there’s water, and in the cupboard there are some painkillers.” I smirk as I get to my feet. My back screams in protest from sleeping on that chair for half the night.

“Yeah, I’m blaming Edna,” she states. Pausing with the bottle mid-way to her lips, she blinks.

“What is it?” Her eyes come to me, and that’s when I see it. Her shutters come crashing down as she looks from me to the camera.

She takes a sip of the water. “It’s nothing. I’m having a shower.” She walks past me and straight into the bathroom. Well, it was fucking something.

I leave her to shower in peace, too tired for a battle this early in the day. A knock comes from the door, alerting me. “Yeah?” I call out. The door opens and Penny, Valentina’s assistant, walks in, pushing a trolly full of breakfast, fresh coffee, and some orange juice. “We were coming down for breakfast soon,” I tell her.

“Nyx, it’s after eleven.” She points to the clock on the wall.

I look over and sigh. “Shit. She was drinking late with Edna,” I explain.

“Anyway, here is your food,” Penny says with a sharp tone.

“Hey,” I protest, grabbing her arm. “What’s with the attitude?” I ask. We used to be friends working here together, along with Paul.

She yanks her arm from my grasp. “Quick to turn on the only people that were there for you. Shit Nyx, I don’t even blame you being offered this chance, but you know as well as I do that as soon as this weekend is over, he will have you back running around after him like the good little boy you are,” she whisper-hisses, knowing full well the cameras are watching.

“He won’t,” I state. “I...” I pause. “Just trust me,” I plead.

She searches my face for a moment before she sighs, giving me a brief nod. “Fine, but from where I’m standing it looks a lot like you’re buddying up with one of the enemies and getting distracted,” she hisses, her eyes looking to the bathroom.

“I’m just playing the fucking role I’ve been dealt. She fucking caught me in the library. Henry fucking caught us. What the fuck was I supposed to do?” I whisper back.

She grinds her teeth. “I don’t know. Just get what we need and get out, or we will all be dead.” She turns and leaves.

I run my hands through my hair. Fuck, this is all going to shit. I can’t lose focus, not now. They are relying on me. I need to find out what Valentina knows. Did Edna say something to her? Fuck, if she knows who I really am, then it could blow everything. Henry would dismiss me. Permanently.

The bathroom door opens, and she walks out in a robe, her hair wrapped up in a towel. She looks at me, then at the cart of food and drink. She strides past me and pours herself a coffee, moaning as she takes her first sip. Her eyes close and her tongue trails over her bottom lip, savouring every drop.

I’m caught from admiring her when she opens her eyes and scowls at me. “So, what are today’s games? Bowling down the elderly? Or maybe its baby basketball. No wait, my mistake. Maybe its puppy fucking polo,” she snaps, her voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. “Oh no, wait, silly me. Maybe its hunting down activists. You know, those annoying people that get in the way of all the rich drilling for oil,” she adds.

“What is it that you know?” I ask her directly. There is no point dancing around the issue. I need to know. To protect myself, if nothing less.

She stares at me over her coffee cup before looking up at the camera, then back to me. “I don’t know what you are talking about, dear.” She says dear like it’s a bitter taste in her mouth. “Edna merely gave me gossip about Sherry. Did you know she’s been sleeping with their pool boy?” she asks, clearly trying to deflect from the truth. “No wait, not the pool boy. She likes to fuck the assistants on these events.” She grins. I stand rigid. I’ve never been with Sherry, not for her want of trying. Thankfully, Henry has demanded I am at his beck and call, and that’s the only thing I will ever thank him for.

She goes to walk past me, but I reach out, grabbing the belt of her robe and shove her against the wall. She drops her coffee, the sound of the mug smashing across the floor.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she growls through gritted teeth.

“Stop playing fucking games. What did Edna tell you?” I whisper, quietly enough so the camera won’t pick it up.

She smirks. “Unless you’re going to hit me or fuck me, move now,” she growls.

It’s then that I notice her robe has fallen open, revealing the centre of her body. The robe is barely covering her full breasts. Fuck, there is no denying I’m attracted to her. She’s fucking stunning. My dick stirs to life at the thought of fucking her, of shoving my dick inside her mouth, making her gag, fucking her pussy until she’s raw and begging me to stop.

She looks down between us, a smile playing on her lips. “Looks like your dick has made the decision for you.”

I grit my teeth, fighting between taking the chance and fucking her, and finding a way to make her tell me what she knows. I decide to play her at her own game. I wrap my hand around her throat, giving her a gentle squeeze. Her lips part, and her eyes darken with desire.

“I know you’re hiding something. I can see it in your eyes. Edna told you something,” I whisper in her ear, my teeth nipping her lobe. To the camera it looks like we are just having an erotic moment together. I squeeze her neck tighter, restricting her air flow.

She lets out a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you are squeezing my throat to scare me, then you have the wrong girl. You’re just making me wet,” she whispers.

I close my eyes. Fuck, this woman.

“You’d fuck a man you hate?” I ask, leaning back slightly and looking at her in the eye.

She grins. “I hate all men. You are not the exception.”

My eyes flicker from her mouth to her eyes, the temptation becoming harder to resist. I release my hold of her neck and slowly glide my fingertips down the centre of her body where her robe has come apart, down along her chest between her breasts, to her stomach over her naval. As I trail my hand lower, I look at her, watching her reaction. Her lips are parted, and her eyes are full of want, and yet still challenging me. I stop just above her pussy.

She runs her tongue along her bottom lip. Everything in me is demanding I touch her, to feel her wetness, to taste it, but I step back.

Her gaze narrows, clearly not expecting that. “Eat breakfast and get dressed. The games start in one hour,” I state before turning toward the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I run my hand over my face. Jesus, she’s like a god damn siren when I get near her. I switch on the shower, determined to beat her at today’s games. I can’t let her win. I have the upper hand, and knowing what’s coming, I plan on using that to my advantage.

“My beautiful guests, today’s game is one of my favourites. One that I know you all enjoy too. For our newcomers, I know they will love it just as much.” Henry grins, his eyes sparking with excitement as he takes in Valentina.

My eyes roam over her. Today’s outfit is a playsuit; the top a black halter neck with plunging neckline, which is tied up with an extravagant bow at the back of her neck and one at her waist, and the shorts are white, stopping at the top of her thighs. Add in the strappy heels with it, showcasing her long stunning legs, I know every man’s eyes here are trailing up her legs.

“Today’s game is chess. With a twist, of course.” Henry grins, gesturing to the life size chess board. “A tournament to the end,” he adds. I pull Valentina close, my fingers dancing along her bare back.

“Did you choose this outfit as a distraction?” I whisper in her ear.

She gives me a side glace, a smirk on the edge of her lips. “I don’t know what you are implying,” she answers cooly.

“First up, Miss Fox and Gerald,” Henry calls out.

“Excuse me,” she states before walking with confidence to the chessboard. She takes her place, as does Gerald. Henry gives the signal, and thirty-two men are marched out, all with masks covering their faces and cuffs around their hands and ankles. With around twenty prison officers walking alongside them, rifles in their hands ready to shoot, if needed.

I look at Valentina and her face is set to stone, showing zero emotion. Sixteen of the men are in white and the other sixteen in black, each of them with an image of their chess piece on their backs. They stand in their starting squares, each with a collar around their neck, a small square piece flashing.

“Okay, you may begin,” Henry yells.

“Gerald was number one at college. He will destroy her,” Sherry beams.

I cross my arms and watch as the game starts, each of them taking their time, assessing each other. Gerald strikes first, taking one of Valentina’s pawns. A loud beeping noise sounds, followed by an explosion as Valentina’s pawn explodes, chunks of his flesh flying all over the other inmates. I hear Valentina gasp and as I look to her, her eyes are wide.

She’s stunned. She swallows and quickly regains her composure, focusing on winning and taking out Gerald. Each time an opponent is taken out, the little device on their neck beeps, and then they explode.

“Bravo, Miss Fox!” Henry claps excitedly. “Only one more move and its Checkmate!” he cheers.

She does it, and the final guy of Gerald’s explodes. The final five men of her pieces all sigh with relief. I see the concern in her eyes as Henry walks over to her and takes her hand in his, raising it.

“Round one champion!” he cheers.

She gives him a tight smile before walking towards me. “Right, now for Edna and Sherry!” Henry calls.

Edna walks over and stands, glaring at Henry with pure hatred.

I instinctively grab Valentina’s hand in mine. I don’t know why I do it. For show, for my own comfort? Her body moves closer into me, and I release her hand and wrap my arm around her waist, holding her close. She rests her forearms on my shoulder, threading her fingers through my short hair at the back of my neck, scraping her nails on my skin. I look down at her, moving my hands to her back so I can feel her exposed soft skin. The move feels natural.

She looks down to the ground. “Who are they?” she asks on a whisper, so only I can hear.

“There is a maximum security prison about an hour away from here. The governor made a deal with Henry, so when the capacity is getting too much and there is overcrowding, it solves his problem, keeps his costs down, and Henry gets the entertainment he wants,” I tell her.

She gives a gentle nod. “Rapists, sex offenders, and murderers?” she asks.

I nod. “So we are told,” I state.

“Still doesn’t feel right,” she adds. “We don’t know their story. They could be wrongfully convicted,” she says in a sad tone.

“Believe what we are told. They are, and don’t let your mind wander down that route, or it will haunt you,” I tell her in reassurance.

I reach out and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. The action is far too familiar and personal. She freezes and takes a step back. I shove my hands in my pockets, questioning why I did that in the first place. She hates me and I hate her. This act we are having to put on is clearly messing with my fucking mind.

“Are you prepared to have your ass handed to you?” I ask, going back to our familiar territory. Immediately, the tension eases from her.

She crosses her arms and raises her brow. “I’ve never lost a game at chess. You are going down, O’Connor,” she threatens, fighting a smile.

As the afternoon draws to an end, it’s the final, and it’s me versus Valentina. She eyes me from her side of the board as the new prisoners are brought out. The shock of the event has clearly worn off.

“Well, well, well. The two lovers must now duel! Who will conquer?!” Henry cheers excitedly.

She starts first, playing it safe, her eyes always looking for the perfect execution. “E2 to E4,” she calls out, a smile playing on her lips. I mimic her move, both our pawns facing one another. “B1 to C3,” she calls out.

“D8 to F6,” I call out, both of our pieces diagonally squaring off to one another.

We continue to make our moves, but then she grins a devilish grin. “C4 takes E6.” Her pawn moves and mine explodes, the sound of blood and flesh scattering the other prisoners and floor. “Your move, O’Connor,” she goads.

“F7 takes E6.” I grin back as my pawn takes hers that she just moved. Another beep sounds, followed by an explosion as her pawn is annihilated. “Your turn, Sparky.” I wink.

She grins, biting down on her plump bottom lip, her face in concentration. “C1 to G5.”

“H7,” I call out, moving my pawn one space.

She paces back and forth watching, then her eyes alight. “G5 takes F6,” she says with a grin, and my knight explodes. I watch her through the shower of blood as it rains down on the board, her gaze pinned on mine.

“F6,” I call out, taking hers right out. Another explosion. We keep playing fast, toe to toe. I take out one of hers, then she takes out one of mine. That’s when I see it. She has me. Check fucking mate. I’ve lost, and yet I cannot stop fucking smiling.

“And we have a champion! Miss Valentina Fox!” Henry calls out. She doesn’t acknowledge him as her gaze is firmly fixed on mine, and if I’m not wrong, there is heat in her eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s retreat to our rooms and prepare for tonight’s final night. Our ball.” Henry grins. “Miss Fox, if you will come and collect your prize.” I move towards her to follow, but Henry holds up his hand. “No need, Nyx. She is in safe hands,” he states, his eyes glaring at me in warning.

I give him a nod and head back towards the house. Looking over my shoulder, I see Valentina walking with Henry in the other direction towards the summer house.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MORRIGAN

Henry places his hand on my bare lower back as he guides me towards his summer house. A million thoughts are whirling through my mind as different scenarios play out; ways I can get out of a situation should it arise, without hurting him or making it obvious who I am.

We reach the house, and he opens the door, gesturing for me to enter. He calls it a summer house, yet it’s bigger than most normal homes. I step inside, my heels clicking on the hard wood floors as I enter. The house is decorated as though it is spring, with beautiful flowers in various vases dotted around.

“This is beautiful,” I compliment.

“Thank you. My daughter used to love it here,” he states.

“Used to? Does she not stay here often?” I ask, trying to act innocently.

“No. I’m afraid we are estranged, at present,” he states, gesturing to the stairs. I don’t move as I look from him to the stairs. He grins. “Miss Fox, I promise. I am nothing but a gentleman. Please.” He gestures again and I reluctantly move and start walking up the stairs. I can feel his eyes practically burning into my ass as I take each step. “To the left at the end of the hall,” he instructs.

I do as he says and walk into a very large master bedroom. I whirl around quickly, just as he is shutting the door and locking it behind him, pocketing the key.

“Henry, I will warn you,” I say, taking a step back. “I know self-defence, and should you try anything, I will be forced to use it,” I state in warning.

He lets out a chuckle. “I don’t doubt you do. I wanted to get you alone to talk to you privately, away from your little boyfriend. You see, there are some things that you don’t know, and some of that is because of me, and I owe you an apology for that. You have proved your worth. I have never seen a woman as beautiful and as strong as you. You really have surpassed all my expectations.” He grins.

I try to subtly look around the room, planning where I could make my escape. “Please get to the point, Henry. I don’t have much time to get ready for this evening’s ball,” I state.

He nods. “Well, there is something you should know,” he says as he walks towards me.

Instinctively, I take a step back until my back collides with the wall. He finally stops just in front of me, his body caging mine in. My heart is in overdrive while I try to remain calm.

“You see, Nyx isn’t who he says he is,” he states.

I frown, pretending not to know what he’s talking about, while also trying to understand why he’s telling me this now. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Henry reaches out and curls a lock of my hair around his finger. “He works for me. He isn’t a lord; he is my assistant. I told him to watch you, to spy on you, because my dear, I know you manipulated my system to get your name on my invite list,” he says with a sly grin.

I swallow, wondering where this is going as his breath dances along my cheek. “I, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. As for Nyx, I’m thankful it’s nothing serious,” I state, my voice wavering slightly.

“I nearly had you killed on the spot, but then I thought anyone with those kinds of balls, someone who is not afraid to go for what they want, to prove they are worthy of such an invite, that is what you have done. You have astounded me,” he breathes.

“Thank you,” I respond quietly, not really sure how to respond to that.

“You still broke the rules, and for that I deserve more than an ‘I’m sorry’,” he states, pressing his body against mine. I can feel his erection against my hip. My nails dig into the wall as I contemplate what to do. “You are a special woman, Miss Fox. Think of what we could achieve together,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing down the side of my breast.

I grit my teeth. “Nyx,” I blurt out.

Henry laughs. “He was just using you for your body. I can’t say I blame him. He was doing what I asked him to do while making sure he got his needs met. Smart man. I should give him a raise.” He smirks as his fingers gliding down to my bare thigh, where they start trailing up the inside of my shorts.

“Henry, stop—” Before I can finish the sentence, a loud crashing sound followed by a thump as something flies through the bedroom window. I let out a little scream in surprise as a large rock tumbles across the flow.

Henry steps back and as he grabs the rock, his face is furious. He storms to the window, looking out.

“That scared me,” I breathe, playing the damsel in distress a little thick.

“I will find whoever fucking did that,” he fumes, storming towards the door. “An assistant will be here in two minutes to pick you up and take you back to the main house.” He storms off down the stairs and I take a moment to catch my breath.

I was a split second from putting him on the ground. I straighten my shoulders and leave the bedroom, walking down the stairs and out of the house. Sure enough, there is an assistant waiting for me in a golf cart. I give him a nod and climb in the back.

Once back at the house, I walk up the stairs to our room and find Nyx sat in the chair on the far side, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his tattooed torso. His rich blue eyes land on me as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

“You’ve started early,” I state, walking into the room. He watches my every move, not saying a word as I unbuckle my heels and chuck them to the floor. “What’s the matter? The fact that I’ve won got you sulking?” I ask.

“He touch you?” he asks in a low growl.

I stop what I’m doing and turn to him. “Not really,” I state.

He tilts his head. “Not really?” he asks, repeating my words in question. He gets to his feet and slams his glass down on the table before he stalks his way over to me.

I don’t back up. I stand my ground as he comes to a stop. Looking down on me, his eyes search mine.

“He told you,” he states.

“I already knew,” I counter.

“Fucking knew it,” he growls.

“So, you’re Henrys bitch,” I spit.

His eyes darken and his jaw locks tight. “Don’t,” he growls.

“Don’t what? You work for Henry, you are ordered to spy on me, which works out well for whatever it is you have planned, then I catch you making out to Henry that you gained my trust, as you were covering for me. When in fact, it was the other way around,” I point out. “Don’t play me for a fucking fool, Nyx,” I seethe.

He smirks. “Let me tell you something. I know you are not who you say you are,” he counters.

My heart rate picks up at that accusation. How much does he know? “Then please, tell me, who am I?” I snap. It’s then that realisation hits that the cameras are gone. “The cameras.”

“I ripped them out,” he bites out, nodding his head to the table. I look over and sure enough, there are the cameras and wires. “There is no way anyone with money would act the way you act, or speak the way you speak, and I know that fucking tattoo means something,” he adds.

“So, what you are saying is, you actually know fuck all,” I quip. “And you’re basing what you know on stereotypical assumptions,” I snap back, knowing that you can’t just Google us. We are only known to those that need to know.

He smirks. “I know more than you think.” He takes a step closer. “I know that every time I touch you, you are wet for me,” he rasps, wrapping his hand around my throat and leaning in close. “I know that you get off on fighting me,” he whispers across my lips. “I know today, with the carnage, the blood and the adrenaline of it got you aroused. I could have fucked you right then and there and have had you screaming my fucking name,” he says as he trails his lips up along my neck to my lobe.

“I think you’re full of shit and trying to play me,” I breathe.

“What if I am?” he states as his teeth graze my neck. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely aroused. There is an undeniable chemistry between us, that no matter how much either of us try to fight, it somehow claws its way back to the surface. However, I can’t let go of the fact he works for Henry. He is part of the very thing I am fighting, and I can’t give in to my desires now. I push at his shoulders, shoving him off me. His tattooed chest is heaving, and his rich blue eyes are dark with lust.

I shake my head no. “This isn’t happening. Not now,” I state firmly, or as firmly as I can, while trying to gain some self-control.

He grins, shaking his head. “What’s stopping you?” he asks.

The fact that you work with a man that traffics innocent girls, a rapist, is what I want to say.

He works for Henry, he knows what he is and what he does, and the fact he is still here working for him, spying on me, says it all.

“I don’t take too kindly to being lied to and spied on,” I say instead, when in reality, I couldn’t care. I knew something wasn’t right from the moment I met him. He, just like me, doesn’t fit in. “And as for my tattoo, it was a silly club I was in as a young girl. I may act differently than everyone here, but that is because I earned my money,” I add, hoping he believes the lie. I don’t know how close him and Henry are, and I only need to get through tonight, then I am gone. I need tonight to happen. I need to get that information.

He eyes me. “Well, now that you know everything, enjoy the ball tonight,” he says before walking over to the chair and grabbing his shirt, shrugging it on over his shoulders before he walks past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask before he leaves.

“You won. It’s time to go back to my reality,” is all he says before shutting the door behind him.

It’s fine. I was doing this mission alone. Nothing has changed. If anything, with him gone, it makes it all the easier for me.

I get ready, and after applying my make-up with my hair in loose waves pinned to one side, I put on the dress. It’s black with a delicate embroidered opaque bodice, with thin spaghetti straps, and a flowing tulle skirt that has a sultry leg split. It even has a small train. I pair it with nude strappy sandals and a clutch. I place my perfume containing the drug to make the guard want to shit himself in my clutch, along with the fingerprint kit. How I’m going to get his fingerprint without him knowing, I have no idea. For that I will have to improvise.

I make sure to spray my actual perfume before turning to leave for the final event.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NYX

“What are you doing? You were supposed to see it through to tonight,” Penny hisses at me at the back of the kitchen as the chefs and other staff run around, getting the evening meals prepared.

I lean against the wall by the open door smoking my cigarette. I sigh, enjoying as the smoke fills my lungs. “Fuck, I missed this.”

“Nyx, are you even fucking listening? The plan has gone to shit. Everything has gone to fucking shit,” she hisses, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

“Will you calm the fuck down? Nothing has gone to shit. We will get what we need. I will think of something,” I assure her.

“Pfft, all because you couldn’t control your dick,” she scoffs.

“Don’t,” I growl in warning.

She exhales a long frustrated breath, crossing her arms over her chest. “Years we have been waiting for this. Fucking years. We need to do this for them,” she adds.

I give the back of her neck a gentle squeeze. “We will. Tonight,” I promise her.

Penny had to leave me to attend the ball with Valentina. I walk to the edge of the service door and peer through, seeing her. Fuck, she looks breathtaking. I watch as she sits with Edna, laughing as she sips her whiskey on ice. I smirk. Only a woman with her size balls would dare to drink something like that, while all the others drink champagne. I catch how the men look at her, eying her appreciatively. My fists clench tightly at my side, wanting to end every single son of a bitch that sits here tonight. If only she knew who Henry was, and what he does. What all of these do...

Fuck, the games from this weekend only hint at the kind of shit they do. Something catches her eye, and she says something to Edna before getting to her feet. She walks towards a table where Henry was sat, and using the tulle on her dress, she picks it up, keeping it hidden from view. I squint, watching her as she moves through the party towards one of the side doors. I move quickly through the side corridors only staff know about, to where she is. I peer through one of the doors and watch as she places the glass down. She pulls something out of her back and places it over the glass.

“Shit,” I whisper. She’s lifting his prints.

“I wondered where I would find you,” Henry’s voice booms from behind me. I spin around quickly, making sure the door is closed.

“Sir.” I nod. “I figured I would be of no use tonight,” I state.

“That’s obvious,” he huffs. “You seemed quite enthralled with Miss Fox.”

I place my hands in my pockets and shrug. “I’m not blind, sir.”

He smirks. “Yes, she is rather beautiful. I will take her tonight,” he states, like she’s something to own.

“I hadn’t realised you were both there yet, sir,” I state, feeling my blood beginning to boil, knowing exactly what he is going to say next.

“Come on, Nyx. You know I take what I want, when I want. She will be grateful afterwards. They always are. Sometimes, they just need a little coaxing, is all. Just like breaking in a wild mare. They always buck and kick, trying to fight you off, but a firm hand soon keeps them in line.” He grins. “Anyway, I wanted to say good work, and you can have the night off.” He smiles, patting my shoulder before walking away. “Oh, and one more thing, a nice little bonus for you, too. Good work.”

I wait for Henry to disappear before turning back around to peer through the gap in the door to watch her, but when I do, she’s gone.

“Fuck.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

MORRIGAN

I remove my heels and place them hidden behind one of the huge vases, making sure they are slightly visible. I look around, making sure I’m not being followed before I walk past the guard stood by the elevator. I know that as soon as the laxatives start working, I will only have minutes before I’m found. After finding out he even has cameras in his guest room, I know right now I’m being watched.

I walk, pretending to be a little tipsy as I walk back and stumble into the guard. “Whoopsie!” I giggle as I press my body up against him. He grins, his eyes looking right down my dress.

Why is it always the tits? Want to get a man to do what you want? Flash them a tit. Want to defuse an argument with your husband? Flash a tit. There should be more women in world discussions. I reckon a simple boob flash could end wars.

He helps me steady myself before letting me go. “I am so sorry. The champagne has gone straight to my head,” I say, fanning my face with my hand. “Do you mind if I have a drink of your water?” I ask, pointing to his glass.

“Be my guest,” he gestures. I pick it up and take a sip, his eyes on me the whole time.

I look down, then act shocked. “Oh dear, I appear to have lost my shoes!” I gasp, followed by a girlie giggle. “Oh, is that them?” I ask, pointing to the back of my heel that is just sticking out from behind the vase.

I don’t even have to ask. He strides off to retrieve them, and I quickly pull out the laxative and pop it in his water. He returns with a grin, carrying my heels. “Oh, you are a hero,” I praise, handing him his glass of water while I take my shoes from him. I reach up on my toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I say before wandering off back down the hall, making sure I sway a little to keep up the drunken vibe. I walk around the corner and quickly put my heels back on, while trying to casually stand there and not look suspicious. I peek around the corner to see if the guard is close to shitting himself yet.

“What’s the matter? Had enough of the ball?” a deep voice says from behind me. I whirl around and see Nyx stood there. My eyes sweep him from top to bottom. He’s in black jeans, a white T-shirt that stretches over his broad chest, and his tattoos on his arms are on full display. He looks good. Really fucking good.

I blink, kickstarting my brain back into gear before I clear my throat. “I’m just taking a break,” I say, casually trying to peer around the corner again without making it obvious.

Nyx leans around and peers to see what I’m looking at. “This break have anything to do with drugging the guard?” he asks.

I blanch. “I have not drugged the guard. I would never,” I say defensively.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the guard comes running past us at that point. “Out of the way! Oh god, oh god!” he screeches.

Nyx raises a brow at me. I look to him, and then to the elevator. “I didn’t drug him,” I repeat before running off towards the elevator. I pull out Henry’s fingerprint and Nyx is hot on my heels.

“What are you doing?” he hisses. I ignore him and continue, placing Henry’s print over my thumb and placing it on the scanner. The light turns green and the doors open. I jump in, but Nyx just stands there.

“Just give me two minutes, then sound the alarm. It’s all I ask,” I plead, knowing he could report me instantly. The doors ping and begin closing. Nyx’s jaw is set tight before he jumps in with me. I turn to him. “What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss.

“I don’t fucking know, but I know I’m not about to leave to get fucking killed, which is what Henry will do when he finds you down here,” he growls.

I move and stand toe to toe with him. “It won’t be me getting killed, it will be him. Now stay out of my fucking way,” I seethe.

We both stand there, glaring at each other, the tension crackling between us. My heart is thundering in my chest as he steps forward, forcing me to step back until my back hits the cold metal of the elevator. His eyes are full of frustration and anger as his gaze flickers to my mouth. The adrenaline, the anger, and the lust coursing through my body is close to exploding. Suddenly, the doors ping, breaking the moment. Thankful, I push past him and run out of the doors to the huge door Isabella told me about. I do the fingerprint again, and after the door unlocks we walk in. I look around. It’s just a normal office. Well, for a security protected underground bunker office, it’s pretty standard.

I quickly move around, pulling out draws, rummaging through paperwork.

“What is it exactly you are looking for?” Nyx asks. I look up at him before I continue to hunt, not giving him an answer. “Oh, come on. I’m here risking it all to help you,” he argues.

He has a point, but I still continue to look. “Proof,” is all I say.

“Proof on what?” he asks.

“Just proof,” I state. Truthfully, I don’t know. I need shipments, and I need a money trail, locations. He sighs and starts hunting, and that’s when I notice that the wood at the bottom of Henry’s desk is a slightly different shade. Bending down, I run my hand along the base of the leg, feeling a little switch. I press it and a loud click sounds. I look up and see the bookcase opening like a door. “Of course he has a hidden door,” I huff, rolling my eyes. Walking towards it, I peek inside and see it’s a large storage cupboard full boxes of files. I panic. I can’t take all of these, and I don’t have time to go through them all. “Shit,” I mutter. “Why can’t he just have things on a flash drive like a normal person?” I complain.

“Because paper is easier to burn,” Nyx answers, lifting the lid on one of the boxes. “Fuck,” he curses.

“What is it?” I ask, walking over to him, I peer over to see what he’s looking at. He has one of the files open, and on the first page is a picture of a young girl, probably only sixteen, with a number board hanging around her neck. Written below is the buyer’s information. “Why would he keep all this information?” I frown, flicking through the rest of the pages, seeing girl after girl, all with the same image and buyer’s details.

“So they don’t suddenly grow a conscience and rat him out. They do, he’s taking down each and every one with him,” he states.

“I need all of this information,” I whisper, not wanting to leave a single girl behind.

“This is what you came for,” Nyx states, looking at me.

I don’t answer him. I just start pulling down the boxes, not knowing how I am going to get all of this out of here. I have to try. I must find a way.

“I’m sorry,” I hear Nyx mutter.

I don’t look up as I try to take every piece of paper and fold it and shove it down my dress. “Huh?” I ask. I hear the click of a gun and I look up, seeing Nyx stood there, aiming a gun at me. I freeze, looking at him with confusion. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” he says.

I fold my arms across my chest. “I knew you weren’t to be trusted. I could feel it in my gut, but I chose to shut it down, all because of my fucking libido. I will find you and kill you,” I seethe.

His jaw clenches. “You won’t,” he states.

“Oh, I will. Even if I die, there will be others that will come for you,” I threaten. I hear the ping of the elevator and in strides Henry. His eyes take in the scene before him, and his face turns beet red as his anger irrupts. He storms towards me, but I’m ready. I don’t have to hide anymore. This time his ass is mine.

I lift my leg in a high side kick, my stiletto heeled foot connecting with his face. He stumbles back, grabbing his face.

“Fucking bitch!” he groans as blood trickles through his fingers.

I stand, my fists up ready to fight. The sound of several guns being cocked echo around the room. I look around, seeing more of his men stood there, aiming their guns at me. Fuck.

Henry removes his hands from his face, his cheek bleeding as he smiles. “Silly little girls shouldn’t try and play grown up games,” he states before striding towards me. My fist falls at my waist side in surrender. Now it’s about surviving until I can get out of here. He backhands me hard across the face, making my head whip to the side. “Take her to the cells. I will be down once my face has been taken care of,” Henry orders.

I hold my face and look to see Nyx walk towards me. He grabs hold of my wrist firmly in his hand. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I say, spitting in his face. He exhales a slow breath, wiping my spittle from his face, before dragging me through to another door at the side. He presses his thumb to the keypad and it clicks unlocked. I stare up at him. “You’re a part in all of this, aren’t you?” I whisper stunned, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet my gaze.

I knew he was Henry’s assistant, and I thought he may have seen some stuff, but it’s more than that. He is a part it. He drags me through to a cell like room where cuffs are fixed to the wall. He pushes me against the wall, taking each of my wrists and locking them in the cuffs.

“You can’t even look at me. You’re fucking pathetic. The cuffs get you off? Or am I too old for your tastes? Maybe you prefer one of those sixteen-year-olds your boss likes to sell?” I spit angrily. He snaps, wrapping his hand around my neck and cutting the air from my lungs. I laugh. “Hit a nerve?” I wheeze.

He leans in, his face close to mine. “You don’t know shit. I’m doing this for your own fucking safety,” he growls.

I cough out a laugh as his hold on my throat still restricts the flow. “You didn’t pass English, did you? You may want to look up the word ‘safety’ in a dictionary, because chaining women to a wall in a cell in some sex offender’s house isn’t very fucking safe!” I bite back.

“Will you fucking shut up and listen? Just trust me. I will make sure you are okay,” he seethes.

“Pfft, how are you going to do that? Sell me to an old rich man that will only have the energy to rape me once a week?” I ask sarcastically.

Nyx lets go of my neck and slams his fist into the wall next to my head. “Fuck, you infuriate me,” he growls.

I take in deep breaths, while smiling that I’m getting under his skin. Good, that way he is more likely to make a mistake.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Just don’t tell him anything. I will get you out of here,” he breathes before walking out. I believe what he says about as much as I believe in Santa fucking Clause.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MORRIGAN

“I must say, your strong will is almost impressive,” Henry pants as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. My cheek feels like its busted, my right eye is closing, and my back feels like it’s on fire. I almost applaud him for still using a whip to torture people. Very retro.

I hang my head low, unable to support my weight anymore. The metal cuffs on my wrists are holding me up, and I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. I haven’t seen Nyx, which just proves he is full of fucking shit.

Henry walks in front of me and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back and forcing me to look at him. “Now that you’re subdued, I should bend you over and fuck you. It’s something I haven’t stopped thinking about. I think it would be the final thing to make you break. To cave before me, to submit. It could be the only thing that saves you.” He grins.

I grin back a bloody smile before spitting in his face. “I will never submit,” I rasp out defiantly.

Henry wipes the blood and spit from his face and raises his hand to slap me. He halts, just as an alarm starts ringing out. I frown, looking around, wondering what it is. If it’s a fire, I’m fucked.

He storms off. “What is i—” I hear him say, followed by a loud thud.

The door is pushed open and Nyx walks in, his eyes taking me in. “Shit,” he mutters as he comes closer to me. He uncuffs me and I collapse to the ground, having no strength to hold myself up. He grabs me, lifting me in his arms.

“Put me the fuck down,” I protest.

“I’m saving your ass,” he snaps back.

“Like you cuffing me to that wall and leaving me there for...” I pause, not knowing the answer.

“A week,” he says through gritted teeth.

“A fucking week!” I gasp, ignoring the fact that he’s running through the building, carrying me like I’m a sack of potatoes. “From one cunt to another, fuck. Do tell me, what torture do you offer? I want to be sure I’m getting the best deal?” I ask him sarcastically. As people around us are running and screaming, as well as gun fire, I ignore it, glaring at him as he continues to carry me.

He looks down at me briefly. “Do you think you could keep your smart ass remarks to yourself while I try to get us the fuck out of here alive?” he snaps. “Jesus, you’d think a week of being stuck down there would have you…” He pauses, ducking behind the stairwell as someone shoots at us. The statue shatters above our heads, covering us in bits of marble.

“I’d what? Come out a shell of a woman? Cry? Be forever grateful that you have saved me?” I ask him.

He looks down at me. “Fuck, why did I even bother?” he snaps.

“Like fuck if I know.” I shrug.

A whoosh sound shoots past, just missing us. “Shit, we’ve got to move,” he pants, getting to his feet. I hold onto him, knowing if I had to run now, I would die. I’m too weak.

He makes it outside and takes off for the trees. Horses are running free from the barn as he runs across the grounds. We make it into the wooded area, where he stops for a moment to catch his breath. I move to get out of his hold, but his hands tighten.

“No, you’re too weak. We need to keep moving,” he pants, trying to draw in air.

I don’t argue. I know he’s right. He starts moving again through the wood, until the sounds coming from the house fade. Only then does he slow to a walk.

“So, you want to tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

He gives me a brief look. “Not now,” he states.

“You’re right. Why don’t you tell me over coffee and cake when we get home?” I mutter sarcastically.

“You always been a bitch, or is it just recently?” he snaps.

“Most of my life, but somehow, you just bring out the best in me.” I grin, then let out a hiss, forgetting about my cheek. I press my fingers to it gently, claret covering the tips of my fingers.

He walks for what feels like forever, and unable to keep awake, too weak from lack of food, my eyes become heavy as my head rests on his chest.

“Freeze!” I hear shouted. I slowly blink my eyes open. “Carefully place her down,” I hear the voice again. Nyx lowers me to the ground, and I turn to look around.

Shit, I know that voice. “Eden?” I call out.

“I got you, Mor,” she responds. “Just let me deal with him.”

“No!” I protest. “Cuff him and bring him back with us,” I order.

“Sure. Betsy, cuff him,” She instructs.

I hear footsteps approach. “Hands behind your back, and don’t try anything or you’ll be dead,” Betsy threatens.

“Betsy,” I sigh, turning to her and seeing her cuff Nyx. She grins and gives me a little wave.

“Nathaniel, you’ll need to carry Mor.” I look and see Nathaniel approach, and his face is murderous as he looks at Nyx. He bends down and scoops me up, his eyes searching my face.

“I’ve got you now,” he says softly, placing a kiss on my temple. My gaze lands on Nyx’s, and his eyes are as cold as stone as Betsy places a black cotton sack over his head.

“How are you supposed to recover if he is cuffed in your bedroom?” Eden protests.

“I have my bed. I will recover just fine. He is cuffed the other side of the room on the couch. I can’t help that is where the pipes are. We don’t have cells here, not anymore,” I argue. They closed them up ever since I went and killed my mother’s killer. It has now been changed into a combat training room for us. He would have hated it; it’s now one of my favourite rooms.

“Do you think you can stay still while I try and stitch you up?” Clare asks, concentrating. Clare is our resident doctor. I mean, sure she was struck off, but it wasn’t her fault. Her chief got forceful on her. She grabbed the thing nearest to her, which was a scalpel, and stabbed him with it in the eye. It didn’t matter that other doctors came forward to support her. The fact that she stabbed a leading surgeon in the eye and he will never be able to perform operations again was, according to the board, more important. So, we hired her instead. She’s caring, funny, and knows how to fire a gun. All qualities we need here.

“Sorry,” I mumble, trying to not move my cheek when I talk.

“We need to know what happened, and you’re in no fit state to be interrogating him,” Bernie points out.

I widen my eyes, as if to say can we talk about this while my cheek isn’t being stitched up?

“I won’t be long. Only one more stitch and that should be it. I can’t hang around because I have a date tonight.” Clare grins as she ties off the stitch before covering it with a small piece of gauze.

“Who with? Want us to run a background check on him?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “No, I am a grown woman.”

“Fine, just be careful, and call us if you need anything.” She stands, running her fingers through her hot pink and deep purple hair. If you were to pass her in the street, you would never think she was a doctor with her tattoos, her vibrant kick ass hair, and killer heels.

“Where are you going?” Bernie asks.

“He’s taking me to Gino’s Italian,” she says as she grabs her jacket.

“Oh, nice.” Eden nods.

“Yeah, it’s my favourite place, but I’m not telling him that, just in case it’s a bad date. I don’t want him coming back to my favourite restaurant and ruining it for me.”

“Well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I call after her as she leaves.

“So, do anything then,” she yells over her shoulder, laughing.

As soon as she’s gone, they turn on me, caging me in. I look between Bernie, Eden, and Betsy. “What?” I ask.

“You know what. What the hell happened in there?” Betsy snaps.

It occurs to me there is someone missing. “Wait, where’s Isabella?” I press. They exchange a look. “What?” I push.

Eden sighs. “It turns out this life wasn’t for her,” Eden states.

“So, what? She set us up? This entire time?!” I fume.

“God, no!” Bernie tuts. “She’s decided to stay at the Hive for a little while.”

I arch my brow. The Hive is the place we set up for those struggling coming to terms with whatever trauma they’ve gone through. “I knew there was more to it,” I state.

Eden nods. “Her night terrors were bad.”

I inhale a long breath before getting to my feet. I wobble slightly, and Bernie grabs my arm to steady me. “I’m okay. I’m going to bed,” I state, finally feeling comfortable in my cookie monster pyjamas.

“We need to talk, and you need to eat,” Eden protests. I reach over the bar and grab a bottle of whiskey.

“All I need is this and sleep. We will go over everything tomorrow, but right now, I just want to crawl into bed,” I confess as I shuffle towards the door.

“Well, at least let me help you.” Eden tuts as she gets to her feet. She links her arm with mine, helping to support me as we make our way down the hall. “Just answer me one thing.” She pauses. “He didn’t do anything else to you, did he?” she asks, concern pouring from her.

I shake my head. “No, just a good old-fashioned beating.” I scoff a laugh.

As we approach my door, we hear grunting. Eden swings open the door to find Nathanial beating Nyx. “Stop!” I yell, pushing forward as fast as I can. Nathanial stands there, his knuckles busted and his chest heaving as he glares down at Nyx. Eden pushes Nathanial away and I slowly lower myself onto the couch, checking Nyx over. His lip is split, his eye is swelling, and his hand lays on his gut. I lift his shirt, seeing a boot shaped bruise forming on his stomach. “You need to get out,” I growl.

“Fine, I’m sorry. I was just so angry seeing what he did to you,” Nathanial defends.

I glare at him. “He didn’t do anything to me! He carried me out of there. Everything else is to be discussed. Anyway, what happens to me, to the club, is none of your business. You are a lap dog! All of this is club business, do you understand? This is my club, our club,” I say, pointing to Eden. “We have rules: you don’t like them, then there is the door!” I yell.

Nathanial glares at me. “I’m sorry,” he grits through his teeth.

“Go get yourself washed up. We will talk tomorrow,” Eden orders. Nathanial sculks out of the room. “I will bring the alcohol and an ice pack.” She nods, giving me a tight smile.

I nod before sitting back down next to Nyx. I reach for my whiskey that I put down and open it, taking a long glug, feeling Nyx’s gaze on me. I wince as it burns, but then I hold out the bottle to him.

He takes it, taking a long pull. “Your friends sure have a funny welcome, or is this the interrogation I should expect?” he asks.

I take the bottle from him and take a sip. “Nah, I use jumper cables. He was just playing with you,” I joke. He grunts, wincing as he holds his ribs. “I’m sorry,” I state.

Nyx’s eyes, or well, his good eye goes wide. “I didn’t think you knew those words,” he mutters.

I flip him off. “None of what he did was okay, especially while you’re cuffed to the pipes. This isn’t how I run things,” I tell him.

“Run things?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not today. I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, after I’ve had at least a bucket of coffee, then I will give you hell. You will bite back, and enemies can resume. Tonight we are just frenemies.” I smirk.

He nods. “Frenemies. So does that mean I can be uncuffed?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I still don’t trust you and I still don’t know who you are,” I state.

“Same goes for you, Mor,” he says, calling me by my real name.

“It’s Morrigan,” I confess.

“Morrigan. As in the goddess of war and death?” he asks with a smirk.

“The one and only.” I grin.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t lie. My name is Nyx,” he states.

Eden comes back in with the alcohol, cotton, ice pack, and a plate of sandwiches. I give her a look. “Don’t look at me like that. It was Bernie, and we all agree you look shit and need to eat. It is a club decision,” she says assertively.

“Savage Sisters,” Nyx mutters, putting two and two together.

I clear my throat. “Fine, I will eat something,” I relent. “But only because she’s made my favourite sandwich,” I add, looking down at the club sandwich with pickles, mayo, and mustard.

Eden smirks before giving Nyx a death glare. “Hurt her and we will kill you,” she threatens. I cough a laugh at her threat. She’s not the type to do it, and to hear her say it sounds weird and funny.

“Well, I don’t want to be killed, so I had best behave,” Nyx says, smiling.

“I mean it,” she adds.

“I don’t doubt it. I’ve seen your...” He pauses, looking at me to confirm what I am to her.

“Sister,” I clarify. It’s what we are; not by blood, but we are a family.

“Sister...” He nods to me. “… In action, and there have been times she’s terrified me.” He grins, hissing as it pulls on the cut on his lip.

I grab the cotton wool and put some alcohol on it before pressing it to his lip. “Ahhh, fuck!” he hisses.

I just grin. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Eden laughs. “Man, it will be easy to kill you. You’re just a big baby.” She cackles as she walks out of my room.

I continue holding the cotton to his lip, and he reaches out and lightly traces his finger over the gauze covering my stitches.

“If he isn’t dead already, I will kill him,” he growls.

“Get in line,” I retort. After removing the cotton and grabbing the ice pack, I lift up his shirt and place it gently on his stomach. He flinches at the coldness, and I give him a small smile. “Keep that there,” I instruct before turning and grabbing one of the sandwiches and hold it out to him.

He looks at it, then back to me. “How do I know one of your sisters hasn’t poisoned it?” he asks.

I roll my eyes and take a large bite out of it. “There, happy?” I ask with a mouthful of food. He smirks, takes it, and begins to eat it.

He moans. “Damn, that’s a good sandwich,” he mumbles around each bite.

I nod in agreement while eating mine. My stomach is grateful to finally be receiving some food.

Once we’ve finished eating, I stand and hand him a blanket and pillows before climbing into bed.

I reach for the bedside light. “Good night,” I call out.

“Night, Sparky,” he replies.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MORRIGAN

I stretch out, my body aching in protest. Everything hurts. I slowly push myself up to see Nyx still fast asleep on the couch. I get out of bed to use the bathroom, still feeling weak and dizzy. I hold onto my bed for support as I make my way around the room.

Walking into the bathroom, I quietly close the door. I glance a look at myself in the mirror and my reflection looks nothing like me. I decide to have a shower, being careful not to get my stitches wet. The warm water hitting my body is just what I needed. I place my hands on the tiled wall for support as I wash myself. Once done, I carefully step out, wrapping a towel around my body before I quietly walk out into my room. I walk to my wardrobe and grab one of my oversized cropped T-shirts and leggings. I open my draw and pull out my underwear, not bothering with a bra. Today I just want comfort.

I drop my towel and get dressed, and just as I’m about to put my top on, Nyx disturbs the moment. “Do all your friends get this kind of show, or am I just one of the lucky ones?” Nyx mutters.

I look over to him, stood in nothing but my black leggings and no bra. His eyes immediately focus on my tits. I sigh and roll my eyes. “It’s always the boobs,” I tut.

“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you because I’m too distracted by your tits,” he quips.

I quickly pull on my T-shirt and place my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “Seriously?”

“What? I can’t help it. I’m just sat here, and you are the one that got naked in front of me. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. We shared a bed and a shower before today,” he points out.

“Don’t remind me,” I say, scrunching up my face in mock disgust.

“Don’t give me that shit. I saw you checking me out.” He grins.

“I may have peeked, but I did not stare, and I used my restraint to not look at your dick,” I argue.

“Would it make you feel better if you saw it? Would that make us even?” he asks, his hands on his fly.

“Fuck no!” I protest. I walk towards him, wobbling slightly on my feet. Damn, I really need to eat some proper food and regain my strength. The room suddenly feels like its spinning. I stop and try to regain my balance, but it’s too late. I’m falling.

Nyx leaps from the couch to catch me, his arm wrapping around me, holding me close as we land on the floor with a thud. “Fuck!” he hisses.

I blink and look up, seeing his wrist is still cuffed to the pipes and his body is awkwardly hanging off where he lunged to catch me. His other arm is still holding me against him, and as I move off of him, he winces.

“Let me help you,” I say as I try to get to my feet.

“No, just sit your ass on that couch before you fucking hurt yourself again,” he orders.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I snap back.

“Fuck, just get on the damn couch,” he sighs.

I reluctantly do as he says, while giving him my best stare down. He pushes himself back up onto the couch, wincing and grabbing his stomach.

“I didn’t ask you to catch me,” I huff.

He gives me a look. “Fine. Next time I will let you fall and hit your head on the damn table,” he grumbles.

I sit there for a moment. “I just need to eat, then I will be fine. And I guess, thank you for not letting me smash my head on the table,” I mutter.

“Jesus.” He shakes his head back and forth. “You really are a the most fucking stubborn ass woman I’ve ever met.”

I shrug. “There are worse qualities to have.”

“Who said it was a quality?” he retorts.

I narrow my eyes at him and flip him off, before rubbing my temples. “I don’t know why I’m so dizzy,” I mutter.

“What have you eaten in the past ten days?’ he asks.

My head snaps up. “Ten days?!” I ask, shocked.

He nods. “Yeah,” he says softly.

“I didn’t realise it was so long,” I mutter, frowning, trying to think about what I had eaten. “Er, three slices of bread,” I state. “That’s what I remember. I would only eat half and hide the other down my top. I was knocked out or I blacked out some days.” I shrug.

He looks at me, a rage burning in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door stops him.

“Only me. I cooked you breakfast,” Bernie says, walking in with a tray full of food. She places it down on the small table that I nearly knocked myself out on, then drags it closer to the couch for us. “I made you a plate of food, too.” She smiles at Nyx. “I didn’t know what you liked, so you got a bit of everything,” she says, pointing to the plate that is piled high with bacon, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns. She had even included bowls of fruit, orange juice, and two mugs of freshly brewed coffee. I pounce on the coffee before anyone can say anything else and take my first sip.

“Oh, my god,” I moan. “Oh, how I have missed you,” I sigh to the coffee.

Bernie snorts. “I will bring you another cup in a bit, but eat some food. Or no more coffee!” Bernie chastises.

“You can’t do that to me,” I say in horror, hugging my mug to my chest.

“I can and I will.” She winks before turning to Nyx. “You need to eat, too,” she orders before making her way to the door.

“I don’t think we are supposed to feed the kidnapped so well,” I point out.

She stops at the door. “We don’t usually keep the kidnapped in our bedrooms,” she counters, smiling as she closes the door behind her.

“If this is how you treat hostages, then I need to be kidnapped by you more often. I don’t get fed like this back home,” he mumbles in between mouthfuls.

“Where’s home?” I subtly ask, hoping he will spill some information.

He smirks. “You ain’t getting me that easily.”

“Just warming up,” I state before taking a bite of the bacon. “You need to tell me what was going on, because when you got me out of there it was like a warzone,” I state.

He swallows his mouthful of food and looks to me. “Answer me this. Would you give up who you were? Knowing you are not only giving yourself up, but your club, too?” he asks.

I bite my bottom lip. “No, I would do anything to protect them,” I answer honestly. He nods. “But if I thought I could trust them, or I thought they could help, I would tell them,” I add.

He finishes his bite of food. “I will trust you, when you trust me,” he counters.

I frown. “How am I meant to trust you, when you won’t tell me anything? You are here in my room, you’ve met my family, and you know my club’s name. You’ve given me nothing,” I point out.

He sits back and eyes me. “You have a point,” he agrees. “What do you want to know?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. “Everything!” I exclaim, frustrated. He laughs, and my eyes immediately land on his mouth and that damn dimple.

“I don’t just work for Henry,” he states. I blink, regaining my focus as I look at him, my eyebrows raised.

“Well, I kind of guessed that,” I state sarcastically. “I’m going to need more if you are expecting me to trust you. Well, for any of us to trust you.”

“Fine, I was put there to find...” He pauses. “Stuff,” he states.

I frown. “But you’ve worked for Henry for years as his assistant,” I counter.

He smirks and shakes his head. “Fucking Edna,” he tuts. He sighs, running his hand over his face. “Fuck, I could lose my job for this.”

“Spill,” I press.

“I’ve been working undercover for the past three years,” he states, looking at me.

My heart drops. All that he’s seen. Me killing innocent people… All of us would go away for a long fucking time. It would mean the end of the Savage Sisters. I slowly push to my feet and step back.

“You’re a fucking cop?” I ask, my voice a whisper.

“CIA,” he answers.

I press my hand to my stomach, feeling nausea rolling through me. I brought CIA to my fucking club. I shake my head. Fuck, how could I be so fucking stupid?

“Eden!” I call out as I walk to my door. I swing it open and shout her again.

She comes running into my bedroom, panicked. “What is it? Are you okay?” she pants.

“Get Betsy to run a full background check on Nyx O’Connor. CIA,” I state, the word tasting bitter in my mouth.

Eden’s eyes go wide as she looks to Nyx. “He’s CIA?” she breathes.

I nod. “Alert the others. Nothing is to be discussed around him. Nothing!” I state firmly.

“Mor,” Nyx calls.

I hold up my hand. “Don’t!” I snap.

“I’m not about to report you or the club,” he defends.

I turn and look at him. “I don’t know that, and your word means shit,” I snap, rubbing my temple. “Eden, do me a favour. Bring me some painkillers.” I sigh.

Eden nods, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “We will work it out,” she assures me.

I nod and look to Nyx. The only way we can work it out and be assured that our location and who we are doesn’t go any further than him is to kill him. Why does that thought make me feel physically sick?

I perch on the edge of my bed. “I guess we are no longer frenemies,” he states.

“Frenemies?! This is worse. Way, way worse,” I sigh.

“So, what does this mean now? You going to kill me? Now that I’ve seen too much?” he asks with humour in his tone. I look at him, void of any humour. “Shit,” he mutters, realising that it’s a possibility.

“You witnessed me killing innocent people. You were there while we played chess with human fucking lives. I was a part of all that. You watched me break into Henry’s office. You’ve come here and now know about us. No one knows about us!” I fume as anger and fear course through me that I have destroyed everything my mother sacrificed herself for.

“I will not include you. You have my word,” he assures me.

I scoff. “Sure. You worked for Henry for years, got him on side, and you made him believe you were working for him on his side. Do you really think I’m just going to believe you?” I ask.

He sighs, and my bedroom door opens and Bernie walks in. “You’re needed,” she says flatly. I nod and walk towards the door, pausing to look over at Nyx. “I will watch him. Go on,” she insists.

I agree and go to see what Eden and Betsy need.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NYX

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut. I could have just sealed my own death, as well as blow the entire mission. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ve never said or given away my position since working for Henry. I worked fucking hard to gain his trust, then fucking Morrigan walks in and it all goes to shit. I don’t know if they got Henry, and I don’t know if he’s alive, in custody, or dead.

“So, CIA,” Bernie says, perching herself on the bed.

I look at her and nod. “Yeah,” I answer.

“How did you get into that? Family?” she asks.

I frown and shake my head. “No,” I state, not elaborating.

She nods. “You want to know how Morrigan got into this?” she asks.

I look at her, confused as to why she would be willing to divulge this information. “Okay,” I answer sceptically.

“Her mother and me started this back in the 90’s. We were young, married young, and unfortunately married wrong. We were beaten, amongst other things,” she says with a sad smile. “Anyway, we decided enough was enough. Mainly because of Morrigan. Her mother wanted better for her. So we killed our husbands,” she confesses.

My eyes widen and I look at her, stunned that she’s sharing this with me, especially knowing who I work for. “I, fuck.” I pause. “You shouldn’t be telling me this,” I remind her.

She shrugs. “Why? If you are going to arrest Morrigan, then I’m going in with her. I made a promise to her mom that I would always look out for her, and I plan on continuing to do that, even if that means I will be locked up for the rest of my life,” she states firmly.

“I’m not going to report her,” I tell her.

“Ah, that’s good. Tell me about your other operatives that were there. Will they keep quiet too?” she asks, arching her brow.

“How did you know there was more?” I ask.

She smirks, pointing at the lines around her eyes. “See these? These are my creases, my wrinkles; a privilege of growing old. I’ve seen a lot, therefore I know a lot. Like I know when CIA are close to ending their operation, they will make sure there are other agents ready to assist in the sting.”

I go to move my arm, but the metal cuff forces me to stop. The metal clangs against the pipes. “There was only three of us. It was more than a sting to us. It was personal. They won’t be throwing Morrigan under the bus,” I assure her.

Bernie crosses her arms over her chest, her eye assessing me. “Hmmm. Well, we will see. I do think it will be a shame to have to kill the only man Morrigan has ever tolerated,” she adds.

“She tolerates me?” I ask, a chuckle escaping me. “Because I’m pretty sure she hates me,” I add.

Bernie smirks. “Morrigan is fiery, and she doesn’t respond well to water.”

“Water?” I ask, even more confused.

Her grin deepens. “Yes, men that are weak, or wet behind the ears. A man like that is no challenge for her. You, on the other hand, even cuffed to the pipes in her bedroom, challenge her.”

I shake my head. “Look, I can’t deny she’s attractive, but the woman drives me fucking insane.”

She chuckles. “Oh, boy. Listen, I’m going to give you some advice. This club was made to help, to save women and children. We do what we can, however we can. The things we’ve seen, the things Morrigan has witnessed at the hands of a man, is extreme. She has built that barrier around herself so she doesn’t repeat what happened to her mother.” She sighs sadly, as if reliving the memory of it.

“What happened to her mom?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I will leave that for Morrigan to tell you.”

“So, the advice you’re giving me is…?” I smirk.

“Persistence is key. She will break eventually, I’m sure of it.” She nods before she stands.

“So, be persistent, convince her I won’t report her, and she will let me go?” I ask.

She places her hands on her hips and looks to the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she sighs. “For someone in the CIA, you’re not too bright.” She tuts, shaking her head as she walks towards the door.

“Wait! I thought you were supposed to watch me. I need the bathroom,” I yell after her.

“Morrigan will see to it when she gets back,” she yells over her shoulder before she shuts the door behind her.

I sigh and flop back in the seat.

Eventually, Morrigan came back in. She looked at me with those hard shutters down. She walks towards the table and goes to pick up the glass off of the table. She’s just about to take a sip when I stop her.

“Stop!” She pauses. “That’s not apple juice.” I wince.

She scrunches up her nose in disgust and places it back down. “Fuck! That is disgusting,” she complains, grabbing a napkin and wiping her hands.

“What? You left me cuffed. I’ve been here all night and all morning. I had to go,” I protest.

“You could have asked Bernie,” she points out.

“I did, but she just said to wait for you,” I argue.

She rolls her eyes before she walks to the draw on her bedside table and pulls out a key. She walks back towards me, leaning over, her body close, the smell of her invading my senses. She peers down at me through her lashes as she unlocks the cuff. She stands still, keeping hold of the empty cuff, her eyes on me the entire time as my hand gazes the bare skin of her stomach. I’m enraptured by her.

She gives me a playful grin as a clicking sound breaks the moment. I look down and see that she’s cuffed her wrist in the empty cuff.

“We decided in the meeting that you are not to be trusted, and even though we haven’t come to a final decision on what to do with you yet, this seemed like the best option until we do,” she states.

I slowly and painfully push to my feet, standing in front of her. She makes no attempt to step back as our bodies press close together while I look down on her. “So what? I’m to remain cuffed to you for how long?” I ask.

Her grin deepens, enjoying my misery. “Who knows, but we did decide leaving you cuffed to the pipe was cruel. You pissing in the glass is a reason to back it up.” She grins happily.

“What if I need the bathroom?” I ask.

“I will turn my back to give you privacy.” She nods.

“What if I need a crap?” I counter.

“Then I will cuff you to the towel rail,” she answers.

“What if I want to masturbate?” I press, trying to push her buttons.

“Cuffed or not, you try and do that in my room, I will cut it off,” she bites back.

Man, she riles so easily. “And sleeping arrangements, if this is going to take more than a day?” I ask.

“Then you will sleep next to me, like we did at Henry’s.” She shrugs.

“Fine,” I bite.

“Fine.” She grins.

“I could easily pick you up and carry you out of here and make my escape,” I point out.

I suddenly feel something sharp at my abdomen. I look down to see her pressing a blade to my gut. “And I could easily take your life. Try it and you won’t make it two feet,” she threatens.

I clench my jaw in annoyance. “I guess you’ve thought of everything,” I grit out.

She nods. “Now, strip,” she orders.

I blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remove your clothes. I need to make sure you’re not wearing a wire,” she orders, taking a small step back while keeping the blade aimed at me.

“I’m not wearing a wire,” I defend.

“Don’t believe you,” she bites back.

I exhale. “Fuck it, fine,” I relent, removing my T-shirt and leaving it hanging off our cuffed hands. I yank on our joined hands to undo my fly, and her fingertips brush along my bare torso as I undo each button. Her eyes follow the movement as I glide my thumbs under the waistband of my jeans and boxers and yanks them down to mid-thigh. Standing in front of her completely naked, she blinks, her gaze fixed on my dick. She clears her throat before looking away.

“Fine, you can cover yourself now.” She gestures for me to pull my boxers and jeans back up.

I do it quickly, leaving the buttons undone. “Now what?” I ask.

She looks up at me. “We wait.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MORRIGAN

It’s been eight days! Eight long days of being cuffed to Nyx. My patience was wearing thin. Every time I mentioned to Bernie about cuffing him back to the pipes, she gave me a long rant about how we don’t behave how a man would, that we are not cruel, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. I am getting cabin fever. I want to get out and ride. I want to speed down the open road. I miss and crave it. Laying here on my bed with Nyx cuffed beside me reading, I’m done. I haven’t ridden in weeks. I sit up abruptly, making his hand jolt, dropping the book he was reading.

“Hey, I was enjoying that. I was just getting to the part where they were fucking,” he says with a grin.

I roll my eyes. “Stop reading Eden’s books. Get up, we are going for a ride,” I order, tugging him off the bed with me.

“You know how to ride?” he asks with a dubious look.

I glare at him as I storm out of the bedroom, doing straight down the hall and dragging Nyx behind me. Eden, Betsy, and Bernie look up from where they are sat by the bar as I storm past them.

“Wondered how long it would take you!” Eden laughs.

“Go careful!” Bernie yells after me.

I grab my helmet, and a spare for Nyx, holding it out to him. He takes it and puts it on. I would normally make sure I had my leathers on, but this was an emergency, and a hoodie and leggings would have to do. I place my helmet on and make my way over to the shed to my bike. As soon as I open the doors and see her, I feel a wave of happiness wash over me. I glide my free hand over her sighing, forgetting that Nyx is with me. I climb on and he stands there, his deep blue eyes watching me through his helmet.

“How you planning on doing this?” he asks. I lift my hand, his dangling from the other end of the cuff.

I sigh. “Just climb on. We will make it work. But do not try and grab the handle while I ride,” I warn him.

“What, and probably kill us both?” he scoffs. “That ain’t my style, Sparky,” he quips.

“Will you stop calling me that!” I snap. His grin deepens as he swings his leg over the bike behind me, nestling in close, his hand around my waist while his other stays attached to mine. I ignore how it feels to have his body pressed against mine and start the engine.

The rumbling sound of the engine echoes around the metal shed. I pull on the revs a couple of times, listening to the engine roar beneath me.

“Don’t fall off!” I yell before pulling away. As soon as I make it onto the open road, I push it, speeding, feeling the wind and world pass us by as we ride through the winding roads. Nyx’s hold on me tightens, his hard body pressed to my back. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as happiness I haven’t felt in a while washes over me.

About fifteen minutes into the ride, the heavens open and torrential rain pelts us as we ride. I laugh, loving the feel of the cold rain hitting my skin on the warm night. I turn us around, cutting the ride short as we head back into the sanctuary. I ride into the shed and kill the engine, removing my helmet and letting out a small laugh. My chest rises and falls rapidly from the thrill and excitement of being back on my bike. I realise that Nyx still has his hand on my stomach, and as I twist slightly to the side and turn to look up at him, his eyes are burning into mine through his helmet.

The silence stretches between us. I swallow, my mouth becoming dry. Something feels different. Something has shifted, and I can’t fathom what it is. He moves and gets off the bike, forcing me to break eye contact. I clear my throat and look down, avoiding his gaze, mentally chastising myself for getting carried away with the thrill of the ride. It has to be the adrenaline making me feel that way. I feel him remove his helmet as my cuffed hand is lifted with his. I chance a look at him, noting that his dark hair is scruffy from the helmet, his usual stubble is darker and thicker from not shaving, and when my eyes land on his, I find the same burning heat as in mine.

I lick my lower lip. He takes my helmet from my hold and drops it to the floor, before he takes my cuffed hand in his. I get off my bike and just stand there, staring up at him as he holds my hand in his. I want to say something. I want to brush it off, tell him to back off, but I don’t. Instead, I gaze up at him as the rain hammers down on the metal shed.

“We should get inside,” he mutters.

I nod. “We should,” I agree, but neither of us move.

The tension is explosive, but my stubbornness won’t break. I want him, right fucking now. but there too much holding me back. Too much holding him back.

“Fuck it,” he growls, taking a swift step to me. His hands cup my face as he crashes his mouth to mine. His soft full lips caress and command mine, and I moan as his tongue dances along mine.

With my free hand, I glide it under his wet T-shirt, feeling his hot, wet and hard body. He groans as I drag my nails over down to his waistband of his jeans and cup him over his jeans, feeling him hard as I give him a gentle squeeze.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs over my lips between kisses.

“Definitely not,” I pant, trying to unbuckle his jeans with one hand. He moves his hands to the hem of my hoodie and grabs the hem, lifting it up. We pause the kiss, and he looks at me, waiting for me to stop him. Instead, I help him lift it over my head, leaving me in a soaking wet white tank top. His eyes roam over my breasts, which are clearly visible. His hands reach out and cups my breasts, his thumbs teasingly stroking my nipples.

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to touch you? I’ve fucking dreamt about it,” he rasps.

I moan, pressing myself into his touch.

Grabbing the hem of my tank top, forcing him to let go, I lift it over my head, then I glide my thumbs along the waistband of my leggings and thong before shoving them down to my ankles.

“What about tasting me? Have you dreamt about that, too?” I ask, standing there completely bare before him. His eyes are hungry, and his chest is heaving. He looks like a wild animal about to devour his pray and fuck, I want him devouring every inch of me. He drops to his knees before me, looking up at me, his breath dancing over my desperate pussy. I run my free hand through his messy hair as his hands cup my behind. “Answer me,” I demand, tugging sharply on his hair.

He grins. “Something tells me you’ve dreamt of my mouth, of my tongue being buried inside your tight little cunt. My lips sucking your clit as you ride my face, coming so fucking hard your juices run down my chin. Admit it. I can smell how wet you are right now. I am salivating to taste you, but I want you to admit it first,” he demands.

My chest is heaving at his words and my pussy is desperate. I feel like I would come apart from the lightest of touch. He’s pushing me to cave first, dangling that temptation, the reward, the pleasure I’ve been craving.

I bite my lower lip. “I’ve dreamt about it. About you,” I admit.

His grin widens, his dimple deepening. “Good girl,” he growls, before he runs his tongue along my seam, teasing my clit. I pant, tightening my grip on his hair as he does exactly what he said, fucking me with his tongue, swirling his tongue over my clit, sending shocks of pleasure through me.

“Fuck, yes,” I pant. He focuses on my clit, sucking it and flicking it with his tongue. “Don’t stop. I’m going to cum,” I breathe, looking down on him. His hungry blue eyes stare up at me, watching me come apart by his tongue. My core tightens and I feel my orgasm explode. I throw my head back, my hips bucking as he continues to eat my pussy like it’s his last meal on death row, savouring everything. “Nyx,” I cry out when he doesn’t ease up, prolonging my orgasm as long as possible. As my orgasm finally eases, he slows to a stop.

I look down on him, my wet dark hair framing around my face.

“Wow,” I breathe as I swipe my thumb over his chin, wiping up my juices before I slip my thumb into his mouth. He moans, sucking my thumb clean before he stands before me.

“Kick your sneakers off,” he orders. I kick them off and he bends down, yanking my leggings off completely and throws them away before standing. He unbuttons each button slowly, freeing his impressive thick, hard cock. I lick my lips as I look at him, taking him all in. He fists his length up and down, the tip glistening. “Get on your knees and open your mouth,” he orders.

I arch my brow at him. “You’ve got the wrong girl if you think you can dominate me.”

“On. Your. Knees,” he growls.

I grin, biting my bottom lip. “Make me,” I challenge. He yanks swiftly on our cuffed hands, making me stumble forward and fall to the floor. Moving quickly with his other hand, he grabs a fistful of my hair, tilting my head. With the tip of his cock millimetres from my mouth, I look up at him and smile.

“Now suck my cock like a good girl,” he pants.

“Beg me,” I counter, loving pushing him further.

His jaw tenses. “Sparky,” he grits out.

My eyes flick to his painfully hard cock, his tip covered in pre-cum, desperate for release. Luckily for him, I’m desperate for a taste. I open my mouth and run my tongue from the base to the tip, then I suck the tip of his cock into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he hisses, watching me. I look right back up at him as I take him all the way in, until he hits the back of my throat. He groans as I bob my head up and down, taking every inch of him.

I pull back when I feel him holding back. “Don’t hold back. Fuck my mouth,” I breathe before taking him back in my mouth.

He starts moving his hips, fucking my mouth. I gag and my eyes water as he takes what he needs, what his body desires.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum. I want you to swallow every last fucking drop I give you,” he pants through gritted teeth. I moan in response, taking him a little deeper. His fingers tighten their hold in my hair as he chases his release. The saltiness hits my tongue as I feel his cock pulse, exploding his release in my mouth and down my throat. I moan as I swallow every last drop. He groans through his orgasm.

I slow before releasing him from my mouth, and before I stand, I wipe my chin with the back of my hand, my gaze never leaving his. He takes a step towards me, and I take a step back. He tilts his head in question at the smile that is playing across my lips. As he steps forward again, I step back until my back hits the cold metal wall of the shed. I gasp at the feel of it against my naked body, and he grins a devilish grin.

“Where are you trying to run to? We are chained together, remember,” he says, lifting our joined wrists.

“I was merely giving you time to recuperate. No one likes a flaccid cock,” I bite back.

His eyes darken. “Are you purposefully trying to piss me off?” he seethes.

I grin. “What’s the matter? You’ve gone soft? Just because you fucked me with your mouth and I sucked you off, doesn’t mean things have changed. You are still an enemy to my club, and ninety five percent of the time I really don’t fucking like you.”

He arches his brow. “When was the five percent?” he asks playfully.

“Just now, when I was cuming all over your chin,” I retort.

A hint of a smile twitches at his lips. “Glad we know where each other stands,” he says in a low voice, caging me in with his body, his hard cock pressed between us. He moves quickly, reaching down and grabbing my behind and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he presses his body firmly against mine, the head of his cock teasing my entrance.

With my free hand, I thread my fingers through his short dark hair and grip it firmly. I press my mouth to his, kissing him before nipping his bottom lip between my teeth, drawing blood. He hisses, breaking the kiss.

I grin. “What are you waiting for? Fuck me like you hate me,” I goad him.

A deep rumble irrupts from his chest as he slams into me. I gasp, tilting my head back as my body tries to adjust. He doesn’t give me time as he slams into me over and over again. My body slams into the metal wall with each thrust as the loud banging echoes around us.

“Fuck!” I cry out as the stinging pain begins to turn to immense pleasure, building hard and fast. We are savage. My nails dig into him, cutting the skin as he sinks his teeth into my neck, biting hard enough that I know there will be a mark. “Harder,” I beg. Our bodies are already covered in a sheen of sweat as we savagely fuck, slamming into my body over and over.

“Fuck, you need to cum,” he grits through his teeth.

“Then don’t fucking stop!” I yell back. He doesn’t let up. Holding back his own release while making sure I get mine first, the unrelenting pace he’s fucking me with, I know I will feel it tomorrow, but right now I’m feeling pleasure like I’ve never felt before. I feel my walls begin to clamp around him as my orgasm builds.

“Fuck, I can feel you. Milk my fucking cock when you scream my fucking name,” he demands.

As if I’ve been struck by lightning, my orgasm cascades through my body. I arch my back. “Fuck, Nyx!” I scream.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls before slamming into me one final time as he fills me with his seed. He pants, resting his temple on my shoulder, trying to regain his breath.

“That was…” I pant. “That was...” I’m unable to form the words.

“Yeah,” Nyx agrees. I feel him place a soft kiss over the area where he bit me, and I shudder at the affectionate touch. He lifts his face to mine, his eyes searching mine before he presses a soft kiss to my lips. That kiss has me feeling something; something foreign, something that terrifies me. I clear my throat and wiggle of out his hold. He pulls out and my body is already missing the connection.

“Just to be clear, this changes nothing. We could still decide to kill you,” I state coldly.

He smirks and shakes his head. “Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he adds as he pulls up his boxers and jeans.

I nod. “Good.” I turn and bend down to pick up my hoodie.

“Don’t move,” Nyx growls, suddenly moving behind me. I freeze, wondering what the fuck is going on, then I feel his fingers as they glide up my inner thighs to in between the folds of my pussy. I shudder.

“Even if I only have a few days or a week before you decide to kill me… This. Is. Mine,” he growls possessively, spreading his seed all over my pussy.

I stand and twist around to face him. He presses his fingers to my lips. My lips part and I take them in my mouth, tasting us. His eyes darken before he removes his fingers and takes my mouth, kissing me like he owns me. He breaks the kiss, his thumb caressing my cheek.

“Enemies by day, lovers by night,” he says with a smirk across his lips. “What do you say?” he asks.

I smile back. “I say we have seven more hours until daylight.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

NYX

I wake with Morrigan’s naked body wrapped around me, her head on my chest. Her silken dark hair is cascading around her, and as I gently run my fingers through her hair, I love how it feels. It’s been four days since that night in the shed; four fucking days of the best mind blowing sex I’ve ever had. She is insatiable. I want her as mine. The thought of anyone else touching her ignites a rage deep inside me, but that’s far from reality right now.

One being if I even mentioned that she would probably run for the hills never to be seen again. Two, I’m still CIA, and she’s still most likely a wanted woman for the crimes she’s committed protecting women, and while I stand with her, and the club for what they do, I don’t think any fucking judge will see it that way, especially after technically kidnapping me for nearly two weeks. Plus, finally, we still don’t know the status of Henry, and that is something we need to deal with sooner rather than later. As much as I would like to hide here and ignore the real world and just keep my dick buried in her pussy, I can’t.

There’s a knock at the door before it opens and Eden walks in. Her eyes take in the sight before her, and a warm smile plays on her lips. “We need to talk,” she whispers, walking over with a key to the cuffs. Morrigan still doesn’t trust me enough to release me, and if I’m honest, I like having an excuse to be close to her.

“Me?” I ask on a whisper, not wanting to disturb Morrigan.

Eden nods, placing her index finger to her lips, signalling me to be quiet. I carefully roll Morrigan over. She moans and mumbles in her sleep, making me smile. I place a kiss on the top of her head before getting out of bed.

“Oh god,” Eden gasps, catching my naked self. She quickly turns her back while I pull on my jeans.

“All good,” I whisper, laughing at her embarrassment.

She walks quickly ahead of me out of the room, and I follow behind her, closing the door quietly behind me.

She turns at the end of the hall to the open lounge area from the opposite end of the bar. There sits Bernie and Betsy. Bernie’s eyes sweep over my bare chest, and she grins.

“Bernie, stop eye fucking Morrigan’s boyfriend,” Eden tuts, noticing it too.

“I wasn’t. I’m an old lady. I’m just looking on with appreciation.” Bernie grins.

“Not her boyfriend,” I state as I take a seat and pick up a cup of coffee left for me.

“Boyfriend, no. You are hers, and she is yours. When you’ve both pulled your heads out of your asses, you might see that you two are in fact an item. However, until that time, you’re just you and she is just her,” Bernie says, frowning and getting confused over her own words.

“Jesus, can we get back to the matter at hand?” Betsy chastises, pushing her glasses up her nose while avoiding eye contact with me. “I’ve found Henry, and I can confirm your agents that were with you undercover have been captured by Henry.”

That news has me tensing. “How?” I ask.

“I don’t know that much, but as it stands, the CIA think Henry has you, too. So that works in our favour, but the CIA don’t have any idea where Henry has your friends. Nobody knows where Henry is,” she states.

I rub my temples. They will be dead by now. I’m sure of it. Fuck. “If no one knows where Henry is, then how do you know he has them?” I ask.

“I logged into your private computer,” Betsy says, typing away.

“You logged into my private computer?” I fume.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I didn’t look up your internet history,” she says casually.

A snort of laughter escapes Eden.

“Anyway, I found this sent to your private emails. I quickly removed it so the CIA don’t find it,” Betsy says, still typing away.

“How the fuck can you hide shit from the CIA? They have access to all areas,” I state, completely blown away that this innocent looking woman is capable of all this.

“Pfft, please. Your IT people are basic trained in college. They know nothing,” she says, turning her laptop around to face me. She hits play on the space bar and a video starts playing.

Sat on three chairs is Penny, Josh, and Tim. Fuck. Henry walks in front of the camera. “Hello, Nyx. I invited your friends here to spend some quality time with me,” he sneers, holding a gold-plated blade in his hand. “Your friends broke easily. I’m almost disappointed in the CIA. They are clearly letting their standards slip.” He presses the blade next to Tim’s neck, a trickle of blood running down along the gold blade. “I will cut to the chase. For you, I would be willing to make a deal. Your life for these three. Simple.” He grins.

I grit my jaw. Tim has a wife and kids, and Penny’s sister was taken by Henry. This has been her mission, her personal revenge for years.

“You have twenty four hours to respond,” Henry finishes, then disconnects.

“When was that sent?” I ask.

“Twelve hours ago,” Betsy states.

I exhale, my mind working a mile a minute. I can’t leave them to die because of me, but if I die, then Penny, Josh, and Tim can report Morrigan and the club. If they die, then Henry wins, but Morrigan and the club are safe.

“Fuck!” I roar, jumping to my feet, holding my head in my hands.

As I pace, I hear footsteps approaching. “He’s gone. He’s gone!” Morrigan yells, panic and hurt in her eyes as she rounds the corner, wrapped in her bed sheet. Her eyes land on me, and relief floods her expression before she quickly masks it to indifference. I walk towards her, but she backs off, looking past me to Eden. “Maybe leave a note that you’ve released our prisoner,” she snaps before turning on her heel back to her room. I look over to Eden, who is grinning like a loon.

“What’s got you smiling like that?!” I ask, confused.

“She’s got it bad.” Eden’s grin widens.

“So bad,” Betsy adds.

“I called it!” Bernie calls out, raising her hand.

“What do I do?” I ask them.

“In regard to what? Henry or Mor?” Bernie asks.

“Both!” I state.

“As for Henry, that’s on you, but Mor, you need to pounce on that before the festering anger settles in too deep and she shuts you out completely,” Bernie states.

“Like she did to Nathanial.” Eden nods.

“Who the fuck is Nathanial?” I ask.

“Lap dog. He got a bit attached to Mor. He was the one that beat your ass,” Eden explains.

“Right, that’s a point. Where is he now?” I ask, feeling like I could do with kicking someone’s ass to work out this tension.

“Left. Not seen or heard from him since Mor told him to get out,” Bernie states. “That’s a point. We will have to put the word out that we are on the lookout for a new lap dog,” she adds.

I shake my head. “I need to see Mor,” I state before walking off.

“Good luck! You’ll need it!” Eden yells after me.

Pushing the door open, I step inside to an empty room. I frown, looking around. “Mor?” I call out before I check the bathroom. Nothing. I walk back down the hall. “I can’t find her,” I state.

Bernie is about to answer but is silenced when the sound of a speeding bike rings out. “Ah, she’s gone out the back way. She’s gone to Devil’s Drop,” Bernie states.

“Here.” Eden throws me her keys. “Scratch her and I will deliver you to Henry myself,” she threatens.

I nod and run out the shed. I spot a lime green Kawasaki Ninja and jump on it without a helmet and speed out of the shed in pursuit of Morrigan. I spot her up ahead. I push the bike to its maximum, speeding and swerving in and out through traffic. Cars honk their horns as I cut in and out. I am slowly gaining on her, and as she takes a sharp right at the lights. I follow, not bothering to check what cars are coming. I hear screeching tyres behind me, but I don’t look back. My focus, my only goal is her.

She slows and turns into Devil’s Drop. I slow and follow her, and as she rides her bike down the dirt track right until the end, I sigh relived as she stops, killing her engine. I rev the bike, letting her know I’m coming up behind her.

“I want to be alone, Eden,” she sighs, looking out at the view.

“I will be sure to tell, Eden,” I state.

She whirls around, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Came for the view.” I shrug, looking at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You can go. I’m not about to throw myself off the edge,” she states sarcastically.

“I know. You’re too stubborn for that.” I smirk.

She looks at me. “I hate that you know that about me,” she admits.

I frown. “What? That you’re a stubborn pain in the ass?”

She purses her lips in annoyance. “Sure, I hate that you know those kinds of personal things,” she states.

“Why did you storm off?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I just needed to blow off steam.” She shrugs.

I get off the bike and walk to stand in front of her, placing my legs on either side of her front tyre. “You looked pretty freaked out when you woke and I wasn’t there,” I remind her.

“I wasn’t freaked out. I thought you had escaped,” she adds, like it’s no big deal.

“That I had escaped? And where did you think I had gone?” I press.

“Back to the CIA,” she answers.

“You really think I would go to the CIA now and tell them everything? About you and the club?” I frown. She looks down at the helmet on her lap, her fingers gliding back and forth over a tiny scratch. “Mor,” I say, pressing her for an answer.

“I don’t know, okay?” she snaps, her pained eyes colliding with mine.

I take hold of her chin firmly, forcing her to look at me. “I could never betray you or the club,” I tell her. Her eyes flick back and forth between mine, as if searching for a lie. “I like you. Fuck, I like you a lot,” I confess.

“We are enemies,” she starts, but I cut her off. “You are CIA and I'm well, me.”

“We haven’t been fucking enemies since I broke into that cell and rescued you. Probably before that too, but both of us were too stuck up our own ass to realise it. You’re mine, and I don’t plan on ever giving you up.”

She flinches out of my hold. I frown as she gets off the bike and places her helmet on the seat. She looks at me with that cold hard stare I’ve become accustomed to seeing. She’s in defensive mode.

“I’m not yours, and I will never be owned, this isn’t like other MC’s. I am not an ol’ lady. I ride the bike in my club, with my sisters,” she states firmly.

Feeling used to her mood swings by now, I smirk and step towards her. “You’re mine,” I repeat.

“I’m not,” she counters.

“You fucking are,” I say on a laugh.

“No, I’m not, and this isn’t funny,” she argues.

“It kind of is. You are mine and I am yours,” I state firmly.

“If you were mine, that would imply I care about you, when in reality it’s just sex. Nothing more,” she says sharply.

I nod. “Okay, nothing more. Then you won’t care if I take a walk off the edge here,” I state as I walk to the edge of Devil’s Drop, where there is a two hundred and fifty cavernous drop.

“Why would you do that?” she asks.

“Well, let’s think about it. I have twelve hours.” I pause. “Nope, scrap that. I have eleven hours and thirty five minutes to make a decision to either sacrifice my friends or myself. At least this way I can kill myself before making the wrong decision.” I shrug as I shuffle closer to the edge.

“Why would you doubt saving your friends?” she asks.

“Because saving them would put you at risk,” I confess.

Her lips part. “Why?” she asks.

“Well, because they were witnesses to what happened at H—” I start explaining, but she cuts me off.

“No, why would you risk your friends for me?” she asks.

I turn and walk towards her, away from the edge. She stands there, her eyes watching me, like I’m a scientific problem she’s trying to solve. The wind whips her hair in and around her face, and as I reach out and tuck her wayward hair behind her ear, I cup her face in my hands.

“Because you are mine, and I will always protect what’s mine,” I say, repeating those words back to her.

“But we don’t know each other. All we know is lies, death, and how to get each other off,” she counters.

I smirk. “Sounds like the perfect relationship, if you ask me,” I joke.

“Nyx,” she sighs.

“Okay, fine. Some facts. I grew up with my grandparents, both are dead now. My real parents were too interested in their next fix. So, they raised me instead. I joined the academy, and every year, even when I was underqualified, I applied for CIA until I eventually made it in. I live alone, and I’ve never had a serious relationship. Work took over. My favourite movies are the Naked Gun films. My favourite band is Foo Fighters. I don’t have any pets, but I would like a dog. Oh, and I have a black Ducati V4, which is my baby,” I finish. “I also love pizza, but I hate olives,” I add before placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Your turn.”

“Um…” She pauses, closing her eyes. “I watched my mother die when I was young. It was her boyfriend.” She swallows, blinking back her emotions. My chest tightens, witnessing her pain and sadness. She pauses. “I killed him,” she confesses.

I’m not stunned by her confession. It stands to reason that she hunted him down to kill him. “I would have hunted him down, too,” I state, assuring her.

She removes my hand from her face and shakes her head no. “I didn’t hunt him down. There used to be cells below the Sanctuary. They took him down there when they found my mom. After she made me promise her to continue the fight for those that couldn’t, I walked down there, swiped a blade from the table, and slit his throat,” she confesses. “I was fourteen.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, because what else can I say to that, its fucking messed up.

She nods. “Yeah, fuck” She swallows, the inner battle she's having to contain her emotions visible. “I made a vow that day that I would kill any man that hurt, raped, or killed women. I vowed that I would never be like her. I would never be so weak to allow a man to manipulate me, to make feel vulnerable. I would never fall in love, because love is for fools, and fools get themselves killed,” she states firmly, her hands clenched in fists at her side. “I have scars that run deeper than any blade could cut,” she whispers.

Her telling me this explains so much. Why she is so closed off, why she harbours such anger and hatred, and what she was doing at Henry’s. “You went to get Henry’s list to help the girls he’s trafficked,” I state.

She nods. “And to kill him. We have his daughter,” she adds.

“Isabella is at the Sanctuary?” I ask.

She shakes her head no. “She’s at the Hive receiving help,” she answers before swallowing.

Shit. I had my guesses on why Mor was there, but fuck. “You could have been killed,” I point out. “Being at Henry’s, I mean. He wanted you, he wanted to fuck you, and he would have sold you,” I add. The thought of him touching her, hurting her, the images of her chained up, weak and beaten has my blood turning molten.

“I can’t be the reason your friends die,” she declares, snapping me from my thoughts. I look at her face that is now set to stone, her emotions locked down again.

I shake my head. “Don’t fucking do this. Do not shut down now, not when you are just letting me in,” I snap.

She swallows, and that’s the only sign that she’s feeling my words. “I cannot be responsible for more innocent lives.”

I cup her face in my hands and crash my mouth to hers, kissing her with all that I am. Her hands grip my shirt tight into fists as she kisses me back. It’s the only way I know how she truly feels is in this kiss. I swiftly break the kiss.

“You’d rather I gave my life for theirs?” I ask across her lips, both of us panting.

Her breath hitches in her throat as a tear falls down her cheek. “Yes,” she whispers. I swear, my heart fucking breaks in two hearing her say those words. “I, I’m sorry,” she breathes.

“No,” I rasp. “I know you don’t mean that. It’s you thinking of their lives,” I whisper across her lips in between kissing her, tasting her tears and feeling everything she isn’t saying. “I will go and make sure they don’t breathe a word about you or the club. Make them promise to keep you safe,” I assure her. “I swear, nothing will touch you. Nothing will hurt you ever again.

She steps back and walks to her bike. I frown, watching her. “If this is going to be goodbye, then let’s make it a goodbye to remember,” she says with sadness in her eyes, and a sad smile on her lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MORRIGAN

We ride back to the Sanctuary, and my heart feels like it’s being slowly shredded piece by piece. The pain is almost too unbearable. I rub my chest, as if it will relieve the pain. I have fought and fought my feelings, desperately trying to keep them locked away, but somehow, he’s made a crack, and I’m trying to hang on and not let that crack spread and expose my heart.

We park the bikes in the shed and head inside. “Where should I put these?” he asks, holding up Eden’s keys. I take them and place them behind the bar before grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to my bedroom. Once inside, I begin removing my clothes, my eyes fixed on him. He watches me as he closes the door, his eyes taking in every part of my body.

“I know what you’re doing,” he states, watching me.

“Yeah, I’m getting naked so we can fuck,” I state.

He pulls his shirt over his head and chucks it across the room, while taking purposeful steps towards me. “You can’t face your feelings, so you’re distracting yourself and me the only way you know how,” he states, unbuttoning his jeans.

I stand there at the foot of the bed completely naked. “I don’t see you complaining,” I point out as he steps out of his boxers and jeans, naked and hard.

“Oh Sparky, complaining would be a fucking idiot’s mistake. I’m selfish and will take you any way I can get you,” he growls, his hand grabbing me around the neck.

I smile at him. “You’re smarter than you look,” I goad.

He grins, his eyes sparking with desire and amusement as his hand squeezes around my throat in warning. “Fuck that smart mouth of yours,” he rasps.

“What are you waiting for? If you’re waiting for me to beg you, you’ll be waiting a long fucking time,” I breathe, my body on fire, desperate for his touch.

He leans in, brushing his lips across mine. “Oh, you will beg. You will fucking beg,” he growls. A whimper escapes me and he grins. “On the bed, your head this end,” he orders.

I bite down on my bottom lip and climb up on the bed, positioning my head just below where he stands, his hard cock hovering over me. I lick my lips, anxious for a taste. He grabs me under my arms and pulls me closer, until my head is hanging off the edge of the bed. He holds the base in his cock, pressing the tip to my lips.

“Open your lips like a good girl and take my cock,” he orders. I comply and he slowly glides into my mouth. I taste saltiness already and moan. “Fuck, I love your mouth,” he grits out. He rocks his hips back and forth, slowly fucking my mouth.

I swirl my tongue and suck him hard, taking him deeper down my throat. He continues to move slowly, but as he starts to lean over me, I wonder for a moment what he’s doing, but then I feel the swipe of his tongue down my centre, swirling over my clit. I moan deep in the back of my throat, causing him to groan. Determined to make him cum first, I rock my neck back and forth, increasing the speed, feeling him twitch in my mouth. I know he’s fighting it. I reach up and cup his balls, gently squeezing them as I suck him off like my life depends on it.

“Fuck!” he growls, his urgency to cum taking over as his hips move faster, fucking my mouth relentlessly. My eyes stream and I gag as his dick hits the back of my throat. “Fuck, you going to take my cum? You going to swallow it all?” he groans.

I moan in response, feeling his hips buck as he explodes in my mouth.

“Fuck!” he yells. His hot seed spills into my mouth and down my throat. I take everything he gives me. He pulls back, panting, looking like his soul has left his body. “Fuck, you’re dangerous,” he pants. I grin up at him and he smiles back. “It’s a good job I don’t like playing it safe,” he states before reaching over and grabbing my ankle. He spins me around, so my pussy is in front of him, and without another word he drops to his knees, his mouth devouring me.

I gasp as he sucks on my clit, using his expert tongue to massage the perfect pressure and rhythm. I thread my fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly. My thighs clamp around his head as my hips move and buck as I fuck his face. He glides two fingers through my centre, pushing inside me.

“Fuck. Please!” I beg out as he thrusts them in and out while his tongue continues its beautiful assault on my clit. My pleasure irrupts and my back arches as fireworks of pleasure explode all over my body. “Nyx! Fuck!” I scream. I never scream like this. It feels like I’m floating. I see stars. Fucking stars.

I’m still riding out my immense orgasm, so I hadn’t realised Nyx had stopped until he was leaning over me, pressing his mouth to mine, kissing me, his tongue stroking and playing with mine. I blink open my eyes to see his stunning blue eyes gazing down at me intently. He thrusts into me, making me gasp. Leaning on his elbows, his body cages mine as he slowly moves in and out of me.

I close my eyes, finding it all too much, too intimate.

“Give me your eyes,” he orders. I open my eyes seeing everything. Affection, desire, love. I look away, but he grabs my face firmly. “No Sparky, see it. Feel it. Everything,” he grits out, rolling his hips.

I shake my head as tears spring to the surface. “I can’t,” I whisper.

He takes my mouth kissing me. I kiss him back, and my chest feels like it’s about to explode. “Feel everything I feel for you. All for you,” he breathes, increasing his pace.

I look at him, as he glides in and out of me. Each thrust, kiss, and touch are a symbol of his feelings for me. Everything I feel for him, everything I’m too afraid to admit. I feel my orgasm building, but I try to hold it off, not wanting this to end.

“Let it go,” he breathes.

“No,” I pant. “If I let it go, then it’s goodbye. I’m not ready for this to end,” I whisper as tears spill from my eyes.

His jaw is gritted tight. “This isn’t the end, not right now. Cum for me. Let me feel you,” he pants, sweat beading along his temple.

“Kiss me,” I pant. He lowers his lips to mine, increasing his speed as he slams into me. I let go, and as my walls clamp around him so tight, he groans as he kisses me through it. I whimper against his mouth as he swallows my moans of pleasure. With our bodies connected pressed together as we both climax, we are saying what neither of us is willing to actually say.

We showered together, we ate, we talked, laughed, and now we are both laying in my bed watching Naked Gun together. I look down at Nyx’s head on my lap, feeling his breaths evening out and as he softly snores, letting me know he’s asleep. I look at the clock. Three hours.

I shift carefully, letting his head flop down on the bed. I wince. “Sorry,” I whisper. “You left me no choice.” I place a soft kiss on his temple before quickly getting dressed. I grab my pad and pen and write him a quick note.

Nyx,

I know when you read this you’re going to be confused and pissed, but I had to do this. You were going to sacrifice yourself for your friends while trying to protect me and my club. I couldn’t let you do that, because I’ve fallen for you. There. I said it.

I couldn’t save my mom, but I can save you and do what I promised her. Don’t stop fighting, and don’t stop protecting those who need it. Show no weakness. Fight the wars no one else wants to fight. That’s what I’m doing. I won’t stop protecting women, my club, my family, and now you. Henry started this war on women, and I plan on ending that today. I won’t let him take you or anyone else I love away from me.

Forgive me.

Sparky x

P.S. I only gave you a small amount of roofie. You should be awake in around an hour.

I tear the page out of my notebook and place the folded bit of paper on my pillowcase before placing one last kiss on Nyx’s lips. I walk out of my room and make my way down to the storage room, quickly and quietly as not to disturb anyone. I grab two handguns, some ammo, and a couple of grenades, and load them onto my body vest. I bend and check the inside of my boot, sliding out my blade. It’s the same blade I killed my mom’s boyfriend with. I check it before sliding it back in its place and walk out, my heels clicking against the hard floor. I stop at the bar and reach over, grabbing Eden’s bike keys I put there and throw them the opposite side of the room, watching them land somewhere behind the couch. Before I walk out towards the shed, I pause, noticing the van. I pull my blade out and stab the tyre before walking to the shed. I swing my leg over my bike and start her up.

“You better be watching over me, Mom,” I mutter as I pull on the throttle and speed out of there. I speed through the now quiet streets to the Hive, and once there, I park up and quickly enter.

The girl we hire on reception stands. “Er, it’s too late for visitors,” she stutters.

“I know, I make the rules,” I snap as I approach. “It’s important. What room is Isabella in?” I ask.

The woman frowns, confused. “We don’t have anyone of that name.” She shakes her head.

I sigh. “Show me the list,” I demand, holding out my hand.

She places the list in my hand and my eyes scroll the names on the list until I spot the name. The name Eden always uses as her pseudonym in bars: Anita Lay. I roll my eyes. She’s such a dork. I walk up the steps to Isabella’s room, and knock on the door quietly, so not to disturb anyone else. The last thing I want to do is cause any trauma to the women here.

The door opens and Isabella’s eyes go wide. “Morrigan, what are you doing here?” she asks. I push through the door, mindful that I don’t have much time.

“It’s urgent, as in life and death situation,” I state.

She notices my vest. “As in you’ll be the one causing death?” she asks.

“Hopefully.” I shrug. “I need to know, where would your dad go if he was hiding? If the CIA was on to him and he had prisoners,” I press.

Her eyes go wide. “I, erm.” She paces, her hand on her head. “The boat,” she breathes.

“Boat?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes, he has a boat down at docks. His friend owns the docks. He leaves his boat there so it’s free and undetected,” she says with hope in her voice.

“Lance Walker,” I mutter.

“Yes, that him.” She nods.

“Thanks,” I say as I go to leave.

“Wait. I take it the weekend didn’t go as planned?” she asks.

“No, it didn’t,” I mutter as I leave, running out the building back to my bike. I speed off and head to the docks, thankful that I can reach it in time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

NYX

I blink my eyes open, feeling like I have the worst hangover. I groan. We didn’t even drink. I slowly try to sit up, but soon flop back down. What the fuck is happening? I lay there for a moment longer before trying again. This time I roll to my side and lean up a little at a time. I look around the room and see its empty. I frown, confused. I move slightly and hear a crinkle of paper. I look down, seeing a piece of folded paper, and as I open it up and read it, dread settling in.

“FUCK!” I yell. I move quickly, and as soon as I go to stand, my legs give out and I collapse to the floor. “Shit, shit,” I curse. “Eden! Betsy! Bernie!” I yell as loud as I can.

The door swings open and Betsy storms in, her gun poised and ready to shoot. She looks down at me and frowns, seeing me on the floor. “Why are you down there?” she asks, confused.

“Mor fucking roofied me!” I snap.

“Oh!” Betsy snorts a laugh.

“It’s not fucking funny,” I growl.

Eden comes barrelling through the door with her gun aimed. “What happened?” she asks, looking around and checking the bathroom for intruders.

“Mor roofied Nyx,” Betsy snorts.

Eden laughs. “What did you do to piss her off? I thought you were fucking each other’s brains out?” she asks.

“Tell me about it. You’re lucky I heard you. I’ve been sat with noise cancelling headphones on so I didn’t have to listen to you two going at it,” Betsy says with disgust.

“Jesus fucking Christ, will you just help me up?” I sigh.

“Ooohhh, pissy much?” Eden says sarcastically as her and Betsy walks towards me. They both bend down and help me to sit on the bed. “Fuck dude, easy on the carbs,” Eden groans.

“Fuck you,” I say, flipping her off. “Read this.” I hand her the note, and Eden takes it and holds it for her and Betsy to read. They reach the end and look at each other, their faces going soft. “Awww. It’s finally happened,” Eden coos. “I knew it would. Love always wins out,” she sighs.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling my head pounding. “She’s gone after fucking Henry on her own,” I seethe.

Eden and Betsy both look at me like I’ve lost my mind. “We can read,” Betsy snaps. “You know this is Mor, right?” she asks.

“I know she can stand up for herself and take a man down, but she has no fucking idea what she’s going into,” I explain.

Eden shrugs. “She knows. She has trained and fought people like Henry her entire life. Since she could walk and talk, her mom taught her how to say no before she said Mama. Her entire life has been about fighting men like Henry. Don’t underestimate her,” Eden states.

“I’m not, but you’ve got to agree she shouldn’t be going in alone,” I point out.

Eden gives Betsy a side glance. Betsy sighs. “Fine. You know we will get there, and it will be for nothing. Just like it always is.”

“Remember, he held her prisoner just a couple of weeks ago,” I point out.

“Yeah, but that was different. She was in the middle of nowhere. If she got out, she wouldn’t have anywhere to go.” Eden shrugs.

“But how do you know where she is now?” I ask.

Betsy pulls out her phone and turns it around to face me. “She’s at the docks,” she says as a dot flashes on a map, showing her location.

“Right, let’s go,” I say as I try to stand. I wobble on my feet before falling back on the bed.

“Easy there, Bambi.” Eden laughs. “Betsy, get the antidote,” Eden orders.

“Fine, but you can explain all this to Bernie,” she says over her shoulder as she walks out.

“So, how did you get her to cave? You fuck the love out of her? Held her at gun point? Pfft. Who am I kidding? She would have let you shoot her before admitting she’s in love,” Eden snorts.

I frown at her. “Aren’t you the tiniest bit concerned that she is out there facing him on her own?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I trust her. Knowing Mor, she’s probably got a couple of grenades on her.” Eden shrugs.

Betsy walks back in with a syringe with a really long needle. “Mor raided storage. Three grenades are gone,” she states, biting off the protective plastic. “Okay, drop your trousers and bend over,” Betsy orders.

“You can’t inject that anywhere else?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Nope,” she says sternly, yet still avoiding eye contact.

I stand slightly while leaning against the bed for support and undo my jeans, just enough for her to stab the needle in my ass. I bend over and she jabs it in hard. “Ow!” I hiss.

“Baby,” Eden mutters.

I pull my jeans back up. “Right, can we go now?” I ask.

“Yeah, but you can tell Bernie,” Eden says as she stands. I stand with her, still feeling wobbly, but sturdier on my feet.

“I thought Betsy said you have to tell her,” I point out.

She looks at me. “I’m saying you can tell her,” she quips.

I rub my face. Fuck, these women are a pain in my ass. As we walk into the main bar area, we see Bernie giving food to the few lap dogs I’ve seen about. Not that cunt Nathanial, who I am dying to beat his ass. I eye each of them, wondering which one Mor has slept with, feeling jealousy rising within me.

“No point trying to guess. She’s had all of them,” Eden mutters to me. I snap my gaze to her. She grins. “Jealous much?” She winks.

“Why the fuck would you tell me that?” I snap.

She shrugs. “No different than a male club with their bunnies. Suck it up, buttercup,” she sings before yelling. “Bernie, Mor has gone to take out Henry on her own, and she’s admitted she’s in love with Nyx,” Eden says as she walks over to grab a drink.

Bernie places her hands on her hips and glares at me. “And you let her go alone, after she admitted she loved you?” Bernie chastises. Immediately, I feel like I’m a kid again being told off by my grandma for stealing a cookie.

“She drugged me and told me in the note that she left that she was in love with me,” I defend.

“Note,” Bernie demands, holding out her hand. Betsy hands it to her.

“How come you have it?” I ask.

“Evidence.” Betsy shrugs.

“Evidence for what?” I ask, confused.

“Just in case she denies ever falling in love, we have the proof to shove in her face.” Eden grins.

“Fuck,” I breathe. “How are you not fucking concerned that she is in serious shit right now? She could be fighting for her fucking life, and you are all just laughing, joking, and eating fucking chicken!” I rant.

Betsy puts down the piece of chicken and wipes her mouth, looking down at her hands.

Eden moves to stand protectively in front of her. “Know your fucking place. Yell like that again, I will shove that chicken up your ass,” she hisses.

I take in a slow, steadying breath. “I’m sorry,” I breathe out. I lean around and look to Betsy. “I’m sorry,” I apologise.

“Good. Now let’s go and get our girl,” Eden says, patting my cheek.

I want to yell finally, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m just desperate to get to her. I need to get to her.

We head to the van and Eden pauses. “What a bitch.” She grins, looking down at the flat tyre. She clicks her fingers and the two lap dogs begin changing the tyre.

“So, are they the club’s servants or something?’ I ask.

Betsy frowns. “No! They are here because they choose to be. We don’t just use them like they’re nothing.

“Well, Mor did.” Eden snorts. A growl of irritation rumbles from my chest. “Sorry,” she mutters, wincing.

I walk around to the driver’s seat, about to get in.

“Er, what do you think you’re doing?” Bernie asks, coming up behind me.

“I was going to drive,” I state.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps, shoving me out of the way.

Eden snorts. “Our club, and the women are in charge. In the back, princess.” Eden winks.

The lap dogs finish up with the tyre and join me in the back. I try to think of everything but Mor with these guys, or I may open the side door and throw them out as Bernie speeds through traffic.

“Easy, Bernie!” Betsy complains, holding on as she turns sharply.

“Hush!” Bernie snaps.

After an insane journey to the docks, Bernie comes to a skidding halt, slamming on her breaks so hard we slam forward. “Fuck,” I complain, holding my head.

“Okay, I’ve checked the security and various entrances to the boat. By my calculations, comparing to the normal staff rota and accounting for the fact that Henry will be on high alert right now, there should be three guards at each entrance. If we take the starboard entrance, it’s going to take the other guards at least two point six minutes to reach us. Giving us just enough time to take out the others quickly and quietly,” Betsy says as she stares down at her tablet.

“You just figure that out on the way over?” I ask, stunned.

She nods, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Yes, it was easy enough.” She shrugs like it was nothing.

“Okay lapdogs, you stay here and guard the van If we need you, we will send the signal,” Eden orders, handing them guns out of a duffel bag. When did they load up on guns? “Bernie, stay with the lap dogs.”

“I’m more than capable of going in there and kicking ass like you,” Bernie argues.

“I know, but we need you here,” Eden states.

“Bullshit.” Bernie rolls her eyes. “I know when I’m being called old,” she tuts.

Eden smirks as she hands me a gun. “It’s fully loaded, so listen to what I say and don’t try and be a hero. That’s what will get you killed,” she states.

Betsy cocks her gun. “Let’s do this.” She nods.

We jump out of the van and keep low. I spot Mor’s bike up ahead, feeling slightly relieved that we have the right place. We spot two of Henry’s men on the dock, armed and with radios. Before I can say anything, Betsy crouches and fires two quick shots, hitting both of them in the head.

I look at her with surprise. “Jesus, you’re like a lethal care bear,” I mutter. She gives me a tight grin, pushing her glasses up her nose before running to the entrance of the boat.

“More on the other side of the door,” Eden whispers, then she knocks.

We move to the side, and as the door opens, a guard steps out. I fire, killing him instantly. Eden goes first, her gun aimed as we step over the dead body. More guards appear, shouting. It’s happening quickly. I fire my gun, taking out another two.

Betsy ducks out of the way as incoming fire is aimed at us, before she pops up, taking out another two guards.

“Your calculations are wrong!” Eden yells as she jumps on the back of one of the guards, swinging her legs around his, neck locking her thighs tight. The guy’s face turns beet red as he struggles for air. He tries prying her legs apart but fails. He bucks and slams her against the side, but she doesn’t let up as she squeezes the life out of him. He eventually collapses beneath her, and Eden lands on her feet. “Come on, before the rest get here,” she pants.

I follow on but pause when I hear voices. “Down here!” I yell, opening a small door and taking the stairs down two at time. This isn’t just a boat; it’s a damn yacht. I keep my gun aimed as I walk through the narrow hall towards a door up ahead. I quickly turn to see if Eden and Betsy are behind me. They’re not. I just hope they are okay up there. I slowly push the door open and see Mor tied to a chair, blood pouring from her temple. I step in and Mor’s eyes are wide as she shakes her head in warning.

I catch Henry stood there; his gun aimed at me. “Cutting it fine, Nyx,” Henry greets. I turn and aim my gun at him. “I suggest you drop your gun.” He grins. As I hear another click of a gun, I look and see Penny pressing a gun to Mor’s temple.

I instantly drop my gun. “What the fuck, Penny?!” I hiss.

“If I kill her, he will give me her back,” she says through gritted teeth, tears brimming in her eyes.

I shake my head. “He won’t. He’s playing you,” I tell her, praying she sees sense.

“I’m not, Penny. I will return your sister as promised. Now kill her so I can watch Nyx suffer the devastation before I take his double-crossing life,” Henry urges.

Penny’s hand shakes as she holds the gun. “I’m sorry, Nyx. I am, but it’s my sister. I have to,” she sobs. My heart lurches in my chest as fear creeps up my spine. Mor’s eyes sear through mine, fear etched in them, but then her lips curve into a sly grin. I frown, wondering what the fuck is going on. She suddenly bends down, her hand now free with a blade in her palm. She slams the blade into Penny’s thigh, making her cry out and drop her gun.

“How in the hell?!” Henry yells, stunned. I grin and shake my head as Mor bends down and grabs Penny’s gun. She presses it to Henry’s head. Pride soars through my chest at my woman.

“Drop your gun,” Mor orders. Henry drops his gun, and I bend down, scooping his and mine up, aiming one of them at Henry. “Take a seat on the chair,” Mor orders.

Henry sits on the chair, and a wailing Penny is next to him, clutching her leg in agony. Mor looks down at her in disgust as she stops her heel on her thigh, making Penny scream louder.

“Pathetic,” Mor spits out.

I grab the rope and tie Henry to the chair. “I will get you for this,” Henry sneers.

I smile and shake my head. “No, you fucking won’t,” I say, patting his cheek.

I stand once he’s tied up and grab Mor by her throat. “You plan this?” I ask, my breath dancing over her lips. She grins. “Kind of.”

“Don’t ever fucking leave me like that again. Or you’ll find yourself cuffed to the fucking bed,” I growl.

She runs her tongue along her bottom lip, the thought clearly exciting her. “If that’s your idea of punishment, then you clearly don’t know me as well as you thought,” she challenges.

I thread my fingers through the back of her hair, holding her in place as I crash my mouth to hers in a quick and passionate kiss. “Don’t pull that shit on me again,” I breathe.

Her eyes soften. “Okay,” she breathes. I place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before my eyes land on the blood pouring from her head.

“Shit,” I grit out. Lifting my top over my head, I press it to her head. She grins. “He do this to you?’ I ask

She nods. “Yeah. I had to let him think he got me.” She shrugs.

I release my hold of her and turn my attention to Henry, murderous fury pumping through my veins. “You hurt her,” I growl. “You fucking touched her,” I seethe.

“Oh, fucking please. What are you going to do—” Henry doesn’t get to finish his words as my fist collides with his face, unleashing the anger and murderous rage as I hit him continuously. His blood splatters my body, and the crack of his nose beneath my knuckles is like fuel to my fire. For Mor, for every woman and innocent person I’ve witnessed him hurt and kill is fuelling my rage.

“Nyx,” Mor calls. I stop, my chest heaving. Every muscle in my body strung tight. I turn and look to Mor who is stood there, her gun pressed against Tim’s head, while Tim’s got a gun pressed to Betsy and Josh to Eden’s temple.

I sigh. “For fuck’s sake,” I pant. “And what has he got on you?” I ask.

“Nothing. He made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.” Tim shrugs.

I run my hand over my face, looking down at a battered Henry, his head slumped forward. “You know he will have you in his pocket. He controls you,” I warn them.

“For five million, I can survive that.” Josh shrugs.

“Fucking men, so fucking fickle,” Eden tuts.

Josh presses the gun harder against her temple. “Shut it, bitch,” Josh hisses.

Eden rolls her eyes like this whole situation is just an inconvenience.

I cross my arms over my chest, knowing full well they have this. “Fuck, you are so fucking dumb.” I smirk.

“Your woman fires, her little friends here are dead. I’d say she was the stupid one,” Josh counters.

I shrug. “Whatever. In less than ten seconds, you will both be on the floor and disarmed.”

With that, Eden and Betsy move, sweeping their legs out and ducking, avoiding the shots fired. They move so quickly, so effortlessly, it’s all a blur. Josh and Tim end up on the floor, and Eden and Betsy are aiming their guns at them both. Josh and Tim lay there stunned.

“I told you.” I smirk.

Henry groans. “So, what do we do about him?” Eden asks.

“Well, he burned the files with the locations on. So, I say we just sink the ship.” Mor shrugs.

“Theres a back-up,” Penny wheezes from the corner where she’s slumped. We turn to look at her.

“What?” I ask.

“He has a back-up; his watch.” She points, lifting a shaky hand. “It’s not a battery, it’s a memory card,” she breathes.

“Why would we believe you?” Eden snaps.

Penny looks at me. “Because all she’s ever wanted was to find her little sister. Even if she dies. She just wants her free,” I state, knowing this has been the driving force behind her being on this mission.

Betsy moves and removes Henry’s watch. She examines it, and after flipping it over, she begins taking it apart and pulls out a tiny memory card. She grins.

“For that you can live,” Mor states, reaching for Penny and dragging her to her feet.

“What about my sister?” Penny asks.

“You have our word will find her. Whether she’s dead or alive, we will find out,” Mor promises. Mor’s eyes sweep over my bare bloodied chest with appreciation.

“Can we leave the eye fucking until we are back home?” Eden pleads as her and Betsy tie up Josh and Tim.

“Bernie is on her way with the explosives,” Betsy states. They all move towards the door, and I bend down, picking up Mor’s blade that she dropped.

“Weak,” Henry coughs from behind me.

I stop and slowly turn to face him. “What did you say?” I fume.

Henry grins a bloodied smile. “Weak, having women fighting for you.”

I frown. “They ain’t fighting for me. I fight with them. They are stronger than you, or any man that dares to fucking challenge them,” I seethe.

Henry glares at me through his swollen eyes. “She wasn’t so strong when I beat her, when I made her scream in agony. When I shoved my cock in her tight little cu—” He gasps on the last word as I slice the blade through his neck. He gargles, his eyes wide with fear as he fights to breathe while drowning in his own blood.

I lean in close. “You made the mistake in thinking my love for her was a weakness. You made the mistake in thinking a strong woman like her would be easy to break, and then you made your final mistake in thinking I would be a better man in letting the explosion kill you, giving you a quick and painless death. For her I will never show mercy, for her I will seek vengeance, for her I will walk alongside the fucking devil, if that’s what it takes to protect her. You touched what’s mine, you hurt what’s mine, and for that you will suffer. For that you will die suffocating on your own blood. See you in hell, cunt,” I seethe.

I turn and see Mor stood in the doorway watching me. I close the distance between us, ignoring the pleas from Josh and Tim, and the gargling gasps of Henry slowly dying. I slide the blade in my back pocket before firmly grabbing her face in my hands, slamming my mouth down on hers in a feral, hungry kiss.

After breaking the kiss, our breaths mingle, and her eyes are hooded.

That’s when she whispers three words I never thought I would hear fall from her lips.

“I love you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MORRIGAN

Apparently, all it takes for me to declare my love is watching Nyx slit Henry’s throat while declaring his possessive devotion to me. Shakespeare got it wrong; we don’t want all hearts and flowers with declaration of their love. I never wanted poems or sonnets, and I never dreamt that a prince with a horse drawn carriage would arrive and give me everything I want. I never thought I would find a man that challenges me, that has the balls to put me in my place. A man that is possessively savage, that rides a motorbike like it’s stolen, a man that dances on the line between good and evil. Yet somehow, I have found that man.

My man, as he brutally slams himself inside me. My wrists are cuffed to the bed, bent over as he rails me from behind. The palm of his hand collides with the peach of my ass, punishing me, pleasuring me, taking me to heights I never knew existed. Heights I never want to come down from.

“Say you’re mine,” he demands. I don’t, knowing it will bring me another slap. I moan as his palm collides with my cheek. “Say it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. “Say you’re mine!” he roars.

My pussy clamps around him, my orgasm close. He stills, unmoving, buried inside me. I whimper, my body desperate to fall over the edge.

“Say it,” he growls in my ear, yanking firmly on my hair. “Say it like a good girl and I will let you cum,” he pants.

“I’m yours,” I breathe.

“Louder,” he orders.

“I’m yours,” I say louder as he slams himself in and out of me. Releasing his hold on my hair, he grabs my hips. “Oh god,” I moan.

“Scream it. Let the fucking world know who you belong to,” he pants, groaning as my pussy tightens around him.

“I’m yours!” I cry out. My body explodes with euphoric pleasure cascading through every nerve ending in my body. Nyx slams into me, roaring his release as he fills me with his seed.

“Fuck,” he pants behind me, trailing slow and lazy kisses along my spine. He reaches around and takes hold of my throat from behind. “Give me your mouth, Sparky,” he rasps in my ear. I turn my head and give him my mouth. His kiss is a caress. “I fucking love you,” he breathes between the kiss. I kiss him back, and when I don’t say it back, he nips down on my bottom lip. “Say it,” he says in a low warning.

I grin, looking into his eyes. “Fucking love you, too,” I breathe.

He grins back. “Fucking trouble,” he mutters, placing a chaste kiss on my lips before he pulls out of me. I groan in protest. He spanks my behind in response. “If I could live in your pussy, I would, but your fucking hands are turning purple from the cuffs,” he points out.

I look at my hands, and sure enough they are. “I hadn’t even noticed,” I mumble.

Nyx grabs the key and unlocks them. He takes my hands in his, rubbing and caressing them. “I won’t use these next time,” he says, placing a kiss on the marks on my wrist.

“Er, you better. That was hot. Unless I can use them on you?” I quip. “Cuff you to the pipes again and ride your face until you’re begging to come up for air?” I suggest, wiggling my brows.

“If I’m going to die, please fucking god let it be suffocating on your pussy,” he mock prays to the sky.

I laugh, shoving at his chest. “I need to get cleaned up, then we need to go eat dinner with the others,” I say as I stand.

“I don’t think you need to get cleaned up. You look perfect from where I am,” he says, his eyes watching my every move.

“I can’t go out there naked to dinner. Especially not with your cum trickling down my thighs,” I point out, looking over my shoulder as I make my way to the bathroom.

His eyes darken. “Don’t clean it off. Leave it. I want you to be able to feel me,” he demands.

“As hot as that is, I don’t fancy a water infection.” I wink at him as I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I’m about to step in the shower, I feel something cold and sharp at my back. I freeze.

“Hello, Morrigan,” Nathanial whispers behind me. I go to turn around to face him, but he jabs the blade in, piercing my skin. A hiss escapes me. “No, no. I know what you are capable of. Hands up where I can see them, face forward, and keep your back to me,” he orders.

“What’s your plan? You going to march me out of here? You won’t make it out of the bedroom door before he kills you,” I fume.

Nathanial leans in “We aren’t leaving this room,” he whispers in my ear. “First, I’m going to fuck you, then I’m going to kill you. If I can’t have you, no one else can. The last thing you will remember is me and my cock buried in your pussy,” he threatens.

My eyes dart around the bathroom, looking for something, anything I could use as a weapon. Nothing. I don’t think a squirt of shampoo is going to get me out of this.

“Turn on the shower,” he orders.

I reach over and switch on the shower, flicking the temperature dial to the hottest setting. It’s not enough to scold, but it may be enough to distract him. The room starts to fill with steam, and that’s when I hear the sound of him lowering his zipper.

“Now don’t fucking move,” he grits out. It’s now or never.

I move, lunging for the showerhead, and as I do I feel the slice of his blade down my back. I cry out in pain, but I persist and grab it, aiming it at his face. He roars back, covering his face, the blade still in his free hand. I slip, and as my back collides with the tiles, I try and scramble to my feet as Nathanial regains his composure, his face red raw. Anger pours from his gaze, and my eyes flicker down to the blade still in his hand. He rears the blade up, ready to bring it down on me. My eyes are still looking for a weapon, and as I try to swing my legs to kick out at him, I just slide between the water and the blood from my back. I can’t seem to gain purchase.

Suddenly, loud gunshots ring out, and Nathanial’s body jolts. His eyes are wide as he looks down on me, his hand slowly touching his chest, coating his fingers in claret. He gasps, then collapses beside me, his lifeless eyes staring up at me. I flinch away and look up, seeing Nyx stood there with the gun in his hand. His eyes scan Nathanial, making sure he’s dead before they come to me.

“What in the hell?!” Eden and Betsy ask as they run in, followed by Bernie. Nyx lunges for me, his eyes frenzied with fear. I hadn’t realised I was covered in my own blood.

“I’m okay,” I whisper.

Nyx picks me up and carries me past everyone and perches me on the bed, his eyes checking me all over. He looks behind me at my back. “Motherfucker!” he roars, storming back to the bathroom, firing off rounds at Nathanial’s already dead body.

“Eden, get Clare in,” Bernie orders as she carefully drapes a sheet over me. I hiss in pain, my body shaking with adrenaline.

“Already on it.” Eden nods, typing on her phone.

“What the hell happened?” Bernie asks.

“I just went to shower, and he was there,” I answer. “I tried to fight back, but I kept slipping in the water and blood,” I point out.

Nyx comes back in, his face a picture of pure rage. “If I could bring him back to life, just to kill him again, I would,” he seethes, cupping my face. He places a kiss on my temple before storming off.

“Where is he going?” I ask.

Eden, Betsy, and Bernie all look as clueless as me.

He storms back in, dragging our two lap dogs by the scruff of their necks, like they are children. “You have anything to do with this?!” he barks, pointing at me.

“Fuck, no,” they both answer.

“You sure?!” Nyx growls, dragging them to the bathroom. “Take a good look, because if I find out either one of you had anything to do with this, this is how it will end up,” he threatens.

“Shit. He text saying he was back, but I just thought he meant like as in being a lap dog,” one of them explains.

“Go get cleaning supplies and tarp,” Nyx barks at them. They quickly leave, fear in their eyes.

Ten minutes later, Clare walks in with her bag. “Wow, what happened here?” she asks, taking in the scene.

“Lap dog gone crazy,” I mutter.

She moves behind me and whistles. “This is going to take a good few stitches,” she states.

“Go for it,” I sigh, bracing for the sting I know that’s coming.

The lap dogs come back in, carrying tarp and cleaning products.

“Get in there,” Nyx orders.

“Oh, is that the mystery man?” Clare asks, eying Nyx appreciatively.

“Yeah,” I answer, watching Nyx order the lap dogs around.

“I mean, it’s probably not the right time, but congratulations. Does he have a brother?” she asks.

I snort a laugh. “Not that I know of,” I answer.

“Shame,” she sighs. “Okay, brace yourself. I’m going to numb the area first,” she warns as she jabs me with a needle in various places to numb the area.

“Shit, that stings,” I hiss.

“Sorry, sweetie. Last one,” she warns. “There, all done. That should ease it now for stitching,” she assures me.

“How was the date the other night?” Eden asks Clare.

Clare lets out a groan. “Don’t ask. He brought his mom,” she states.

“No fucking way,” I mutter.

“Yep. I faked having the shits just get out of there.” She snorts a laugh.

I laugh, and my laughter catches the attention of Nyx.

He strides over and crouches down in front of me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes search mine, making sure I’m okay. “What do you need?” he asks.

I smile. “Nothing.” My heart swells.

He places a soft kiss on my lips, until we hear a loud bang, Nyx turns around and as I look up, I see the lap dogs dropping Nathanial’s body on the floor. “For fuck’s sake,” Nyx mutters, standing. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Pick up under his arms!” he chastises them. “Now you’ve got blood on the fucking rug!” he yells.

I smirk. “We’ve never seen a dead body before! I’m freaking the fuck out,” one of the lap dogs complain.

Nyx slaps him upside the head. “Get it together, you fucking pussy. You see the women crying? You see my woman fucking crying, and she’s been slashed with a fucking blade. Grow a pair!” Nyx berates.

“Is he that bossy in the bed?” Clare whispers in my ear.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“Damn girl, you hit the jackpot with that one,” she says.

“I sure fucking did.”

EPILOGUE

MORRIGAN

6 WEEKS LATER

“Tonight’s breaking story is the evidence of hundreds of women, including young girls that were trafficked by billionaire, Henry Sparks. The FBI and CIA are surprisingly working together on this one to help track down Mr. Sparks, but so far haven’t been able to trace his whereabouts. It was believed Mr. Sparks’ charity in which he helped families from disadvantaged backgrounds was the smoke screen for his trafficking operation. Amongst Mr. Sparks, there are also other high-profile suspects that are being questioned in connection.”

We grin, raising our glasses as we toast the news. “To justice,” Eden cheers.

“To justice!” we all cheer together.

Bernie squeezes my hand. “Your mum would be so fucking proud of you, girl,” she says, her eyes stinging with tears.

I squeeze her hand back and swallow my own emotions. Now is not the time for sadness.

“Shhh! Look.” Eden points and turns up the TV to show a reporter.

“I’m here with Miss Smith,” the reporter introduces. I snort a laugh and elbow Bernie. “Miss Smith has kindly offered anyone affected by the Henry Sparks Crisis free therapy and rehabilitation, and any other help they may require at a place called the Hive. Miss Smith, that is quite an offer, and something that must put your refuge out of pocket,” the reporter asks Bernie.

Bernie looks down awkwardly at the microphone. “Er, yes. All of our services are free. We aim to help women that need it. Our centre is private and undisclosed publicly. We do this for women fleeing abusive relationships. We are opening our doors to all who have been affected by that asshole, Henry Sparks,” Bernie states.

I snort a laugh as the reporter quickly tries to pull the mic away from Bernie. “Thank you, Miss Smith. If you or anyone need the Hive’s help, then please contact the email listed below, and they will be in touch. This is Rachel Yates for News Ten,” she says.

“Well, let’s see if anyone reaches out,” Bernie says. No sooner have the words left her mouth, Betsy’s tablet starts pinging non-stop with incoming emails.

I look to them. “Shit, we are going to need to recruit,” I mutter.

Nyx grins, his fingers stroking the back of my neck. “If anyone can pull this off, it will be you. Whatever you need, I’m there,” he offers. He left the CIA once he handed the evidence of all of Henry’s trafficking, just in case anyone tried to shut it down. They gave him a pay-out as a thank you, and now he’s a full time member of the Savage Sisters. I am still trying to get him to wear a cut that says Property of Morrigan, which he adamantly refuses. I will wear him down eventually. I always do.

I place my lips to his. “Love you,” I whisper.

He presses his lips to mine. “All fucking mine,” he murmurs possessively across my lips. “Love you, Sparky.” He grins.

“Oh god, if you two are going to start humping again, I swear I will whip my bra off and burn it in protest!” Eden huffs.

I laugh and rest my head on Nyx’s shoulder.

“No, let them fuck! I want there to be babies.” Bernie grins.

“Fuck, no,” both Nyx and I say in unison.

We laugh and I look around. “Hey, where did Betsy disappear to?” I ask.

Eden and Bernie shrug.

BETSY

“Just go in, get your order, and go home. Make no eye contact. Easy,” I murmur to myself as I step into my local diner. I left straight before the news report, already knowing what they were going to say. I just wanted to get home. Eden was now enjoying the full attention of the lap dogs, and Mor and Nyx were so in love it was sickening. Clare had invited me out on a girls’ nights a couple of times, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing that.

I step into the diner and keep my head down. I hear them over on the far side. They were my neighbours. They were part of a Frat house, and the reason why my house was so cheap. It didn’t bother me. I was proud of myself. How many twenty-two-year-olds could afford to buy their own place these days? The only issue I had was I seemed to be the target, the butt of their jokes. I keep my hoodie up, concealing my face as I made it to the counter.

“Order for Betsy.” I say quietly, so they don’t hear.

“Order for Betsy!” the girl behind the counter calls out. I want to slam my head into the counter.

“Hey, Betty!” I hear yelled. God damn it. It was like being back at high school all over again. Annoyingly, I could kill each and every one of them within a minute, if I was Morrigan or Eden. I didn’t like confrontation like this; personal confrontation. It’s different when you are fighting for someone else. It’s like I can take on a whole other persona. A bit like Superman and Clark Kent.

I brace for the onslaught I know is coming; the belittling, the bullying.

The End

Finding Fortitude – Book Two of the Savage Sisters MC coming soon

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

L.G. Campbell lives in Southwest, England with her husband and children and writes in her spare time.

She loves to write romance that will have your heart pounding but will also make you laugh out loud. L G likes nothing more than to evoke all the emotions in her readers. Whether she makes you cry tears of sadness or laughter in Tiers of Joy or have you on the edge of your seat and your heart breaking in Hidden Truths.

L G writes what she loves, and she hopes you love them too.

When she is not writing she is either baking or enjoying a cheeky gin with friends. You can follow me on all social media sites for latest news and exclusive teasers.

ALSO BY L.G. CAMPBELL

Rocke Series

Rise Above

Wallflower

Fortress

The War Within

Satan’s Outlaws Series

Hidden Truths

Beautiful Lie

Sinful Secrets

Outlaws Deceit

Nefarious Souls Series

Loco

Damaged

Black Hearts MC Series

Ghost

Cash

Rage

Hawk

Beast

Spider

Acid

Scar

Hap

Viva Wed Vegas

Standalones

Tiers of Joy

Worlds Apart

Kaid’s Empire - A Global Outlaws Syndicate

Books by Lauren Grace

Hope: A Stargazing Novel