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I reached for the door handle and opened it. Amory was there, and I let him take me by the waist and set me down.
He bent his head and inhaled the side of my neck, then straightened and released me. “Let’s go inside.”
He headed toward the door and pulled out a key from his pocket to unlock it. I stood back and watched as he opened it up, then stepped inside, as if he needed to inspect it. When he turned around, he motioned for me to come in.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla met my nose as I moved past Amory’s body and into the open area. Shiny hardwood floors that looked new were covered by large, shaggy beige area rugs. To the right was a massive fireplace with a brown leather sofa facing it and two dark red recliners on either side. To the left was a kitchen and dining area, and in the center was a spiral staircase, leading upstairs to a loft. It wasn’t much square footage, but everything in it was high-end. Even the appliances.
“Where are we, Amory?” I asked him again.
“Let’s start with that—my name. That was my first lie. My name is Sebastian Shephard.”
•Twenty-Five •
“You’ve had my attention from day one.”
Sebastian
Her face paled as she stood there, staring at me. It was as if she didn’t recognize me.
“It’s still me, Royal. Just another name. My name,” I assured her.
She shook her head, and her eyes looked around the room wildly, as if she was looking for an escape.
“You see, Amor—Sebastian, that’s the problem. You lied to me about your name, and I woke up on a plane nowhere near where you had told me you were taking me. Now, we are in a cabin, in the wilderness, in some remote location with no other living soul for miles.”
I took a step toward her, and she took one back, holding up both her hands to stop me. I hadn’t wanted this. Especially after she opened her legs to me on the flight and rocked my fucking world. But I was done lying to her—at least about the things I could be honest about. The next time I sank my cock into her, I wanted to hear my name come from those plump pink lips. Not some fucking fictional character in a novel.
“I lied because I had to. If I had told you my name, it would have gotten back to Merce—or worse, you’d have googled me. Neither of those things would have been good.”
She let out a sharp laugh that held no humor at all. “And that is supposed to make me feel better?”
I shrugged. “No. It’s just the truth.”
“How do you know Merce?”
“Our families are connected within many of the same circles.”
“So, your family is into politics?”
I shook my head. “No. My family is the Mafia.”
Her eyes went wide, and I realized I probably should have said that in a different way.
“Mafia.”
I nodded.
“This is getting worse,” she whispered. “And if I’d googled you, it would have told me that?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No. It would have told you my family owns a large thoroughbred ranch and we are known for our champions. The Southern Mafia isn’t something that is advertised. To many, it is a rumor, and to those with enough power, it is just a part of life.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared toward one of the front windows. “The Dancastles know who you are then because they have power.”
“Yes.”
She shifted her gaze back to meet mine. “Sebastian, why am I here?”
“Because Merce Dancastle and his father are funneling a laced drug that the Feds are going to step in and handle if we don’t shut it down. We keep that kind of thing out of our area, and it keeps the Feds out of our shit. They turn a blind eye, so to speak. Edward Dancastle is fucking with the wrong people. Merce got your father somewhat involved by having him do some drops for him. Because of that and you dating him, you are now on their radar.”
