Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
But tonight…well…
There’d been something.
And now…there was fear.
Those darts of terror turned into daggers of panic as I made eye contact with the eldest man. He lowered his glass and licked his bottom lip. His dark blue gaze drifted over me from head to toe. The way he studied me was approving but also clinical, almost as if he saw me as stock to buy or a painting to invest in.
My skin crawled as he smiled. “Hello.”
I locked down every atom suddenly straining to run. Social niceties almost bent me into saying hello back, but then I glanced at Henri and choked on every wrong thing I’d just agreed to.
He stood with his hands balled and jaw clenched. Grey eyes churned with vicious storms, and his entire body bristled with…fury? Despair? Hunger? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t tell because I didn’t know him and this was all a very, very bad idea.
“Eh…I think I made a mistake.” I stood as tall as I could. “I’d like to leave.”
“Oh, come now.” The older man with greying dark blond hair stood from his suave slouch. “That’s not very nice. We’re friendly…once you get to know us.”
Henri muttered something under his breath.
The guy shot him a narrowed glance. “What did you say, Ward? Come now. We’re all friends here. If you’re going to speak, let everyone hear.”
Henri braced his shoulders. “I merely agreed with her. She did make a mistake. And I doubt she’ll be going anywhere…not now she’s here.”
I flinched. “E-Excuse me?”
Henri’s turbulent gaze met mine. I sank into their smoky depths, and came face to face with how badly I’d fucked up.
I’d agreed to go with a complete stranger.
In a foreign country.
The same night I’d broken up with Sam.
For the ludicrous promise of a million euros.
God, Ily…what have you done?
“You should’ve run when I told you to,” Henri growled, rage etching his features, turning him cruel instead of dazzling.
“You told her to leave?” the older man asked sharply. “I thought you wanted into my club.”
“I do.” Henri tore his gaze from mine, focusing on the guy. “I’m here, aren’t I? Regardless of fighting my moral compass.”
“Moral compass?” The older guy snickered. “If what Roland tells me is correct, your moral compass shattered months ago.”
“No, it didn’t.” Henri lowered his jaw. “It shattered the day I was born.” Stalking toward the silver tray on the bar holding a row of crystal liquor bottles, he added, “I’ve just been fighting it for so long, I can’t decide if I’m capable of embracing what I truly want or if I should get as far the fuck away from you as possible.”
A cold edge filled the room.
The older man shifted and looked at Henri with a bit more respect. He studied him the same way he’d studied me: devious and manipulative, plotting things I couldn’t fathom.
The guy beside the older one, with his pressed suit and large belly, finished his drink and clapped his hands. “So…Henri completed your task, Victor. Now what?”
Henri splashed alcohol into a tumbler and shot it back. He did it again, gulping down booze as if it had the power to erase whatever was about to happen.
Time to go, Ily.
I reached for my cellphone tucked into my skirt waistband.
I needed to call the police.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Withdrawing my phone, I flinched as a hundred reflections in the mirrors did the same thing.
I wobbled as I turned to the door behind me. My heels sank into the ruby carpet, my hand outstretched for a lifeline that would save me. My right hand grasped the handle all while my left thumb flew over my keypad, calling the emergency number.
A rustle of motion behind me. A masculine curse.
I didn’t turn to look. I yanked on the door and—
It didn’t budge.
Panic.
Panic so hot, so thick, so suffocating, I couldn’t breathe.
Come on.
Come on!
I tried again. And again. Pulling, pushing, jerking on the handle.
It stayed stubbornly shut.
Breathing hard, fighting the shaking of my bones, I glanced at my phone. The emergency number wouldn’t connect—the signal just kept whirling, whirling searching for service.
This can’t be happening.
Please!
“As you can clearly see, the door is locked,” the older guy murmured almost apologetically behind me. The splash of liquid on crystal revealed Henri had poured himself another drink.
Fighting every instinct to bolt, I clung to bravery and turned to face the three men.
Henri refused to meet my eyes, glowering into his glass. His entire demeanour bellowed with regret but also savage desperation.
“Your phone is useless too.” The older man slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black device. “This little thing will scramble any signal within a twenty-metre radius.” He smiled with a half-hearted shrug. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the moment you stepped into this room, you handed over your life…to me.”