Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 841(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Engulfed by an overwhelming need to puke, she felt her legs move, and sank into the chair Roy held out for her.
He took his seat beside her and slithered a palm over her thigh. “Good evening. As you can see, we have a special guest tonight. Say hello, Charlee.”
She coughed her hysteria into cupped hands and stared at her placemat. “Hello.”
“Don’t be nervous, beautiful girl. These are the men keeping you safe.”
Safe? She thrashed in the padded room of her mind while she smiled outwardly. “Yes, Sir.”
Seeing Nathan flooded her with memories of Noah until all she could think about was him bleeding out on her shop floor. Nathan held the answer to the question she’d ignored for two months. Just a jerk of his chin or a subtle shake, and she’d know.
Every face at the table volleyed leers and smirks at her. Every face but Nathan’s. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
A parade of white jackets moved around the room carrying platters of steaming dishes. Bowls of Miso soup were placed on the utensil-free table. The servers kept their eyes down. Well-trained and probably highly overpaid.
Two seats down, Nathan kept his eyes on Roy, who slurped from the rim of his bowl and prated on about surveillance and FBI investigations. Dammit, Nathan, look this way.
She coughed. She yawned. She feigned choking on fried eel. The conversation circled around security briefings, and Nathan didn’t spare her a passing glance.
Midway through the battered Tempura, she set down her water glass and spilled it in his direction. Finally, she snagged his eyes, and pleaded with hers. Is he alive?
His attention flicked back to Roy. “I have an update on the detective who’s been sniffing around for the girl.”
The detective? The girl? Shivers tore through her.
“Go ahead, Matthew.”
Matthew? Of course. Nathan was undercover.
Nathan reclined in his chair. “He’s been hushed.”
A throb lit in her head, and her heart beat erratically. The detective on her case could’ve been one of Noah’s friends. She didn’t think for one minute Nathan would’ve hushed his own brother, but if the detective on her trail wasn’t Noah, that meant…no, she wouldn’t follow that train of thought. She wouldn’t make assumptions about Noah’s life.
“Very good.” Roy squeezed her leg.
Her mental plate ran over with what-ifs. She felt like she was the only person in the room who didn’t have a clue what was going on. It didn’t add up. Who was the detective? And who did Nathan really work for?
“Sweet Red Bean Bread, ma’am?”
Dessert. She rocked her chin left to right, a mere reflex. Maybe Roy would test the new recruits another night. Maybe they’d worked for him long enough he didn’t need the dessert test at all.
“Charlee.”
She clutched her stomach and willed herself not to be sick. “Yes, Sir?”
“Hop up on the table. Show these boys how pretty you are.” He popped a battered morsel in his mouth as if he just asked her to pass the salt.
The servers flowed around her, clearing dishes and pouring green tea. Delay it. Distract him. What could she do? She stole a glance at Nathan beneath lowered lids. His eyes, aimed at Roy, flickered. Too late.
A hand chopped across her throat and knocked her out of the chair. “Put your ass on that table.”
She coughed—blinded by the pain, overwhelmed by the looming humiliation—and climbed over the ledge.
“Spread your legs and let them see your cunt.”
They say animals react to threats by fighting or fleeing. With Roy, the triggered stress response was to follow. And follow without delay.
She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. They were simply resting their eyes on her. Fear gurgled inside her. Fear for them. She knew Roy was monitoring every breath and shift of their eyes. One wrong move would be the last.
She swallowed past the sore spot in her throat and let her knees drift apart. Chilled air brushed the insides of her thighs. She trembled, no matter how hard she tried not to.
Roy rose from his chair and walked alongside the table, bathing the room with the stench of his almighty power. The chain tightened between her ankle and his hand, knocking over bowls and glasses in its path. He paused behind a new Craig, grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked the man’s head back. “Eyes on Charlee. You will not look away again.” He released him with a shove.
During her time in the penthouse, she’d tried to reason what it would take to willingly work for Roy. Did he deliberately hire people with no morals? She’d heard whisperings of their extraordinary salaries and special benefits, such as women, drugs, firearms, and admittance to the most prestigious clubs and casinos. She also suspected many were in his employment out of debt or obligation. If her father hadn’t bartered her, would he have become a member of the staff?