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This was Big Beta Bert’s doing. There was no mistaking it.

And Mama had told me this would happen. Used my own words against me. Against Tasha.

As I lost my breakfast on the floor beside me in her office, Mama’s voice seethed, “This will be Matty. But much, much worse. Do you understand me?” A sound of disgust. “And clean that up before you meet Mr. Petrov.”

“Do you not like it?”

My head snaps back, my gaze catching Petrov’s. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “I’m just… overwhelmed, I think. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

My answer pleases him. It’s all over his face.

Petrov has never been anything other than respectful to me, kind, even. And that he chose me to accompany him to New York confused me at first. But now I know it must be because I can disappear back into Whips, Chains, & Knots, and no one will ever recognize me as Mikhail Petrov’s former fiancee. No one would think to look there.

They’ll all think he’s too straight-laced and upstanding to step into an S&M club, not to mention be a regular. If they knew what he enjoyed, how he really loved to be treated, it would probably be a scandal for him.

And he knows I would never say a word.

Does he also know about the threat Mama holds over my head?

When I peer into his dark eyes, I can’t get an actual read on him. It’s something that’s always disturbed me to an extent. He’s outwardly kind and gentle with me. He follows direction like a good boy in our scenes. But his eyes hold a certain disconnect. Like they belong to someone else.

“Do I deserve a reward for giving you such a beautiful trinket?”

Trinket? I choke out a laugh. “Borrow it, you mean.”

He tsks and shakes his head. “You can keep it when this is over,” he breathes, his big hands slowly sliding up my thighs from my knees. “Pawn it to get out of that dreadful place.”

A test. This has to be a test.

My laugh is nervous this time. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“I mean it, Mistress.” Those eyes bore into me, and for the first time in all the years I’ve known this Alpha, there’s fire in his gaze. It makes my breath catch. “I can’t stand you being there any longer.”

My mouth is suddenly desert-dry. “Why?”

He sighs. “I hear things. See things. It’s not safe.” He leans forward, resting his head on my lap. “Do this for me. Go to this party with me. Pretend to me mine. And then, take that ring, sell it, and run.”

My body is stone. A test. A test…

I force a huff of laughter. “I could never,” I rasp. “Mama has been good to me.” Bile comes back up into my throat from my still empty stomach as I speak the lie.

His head rises, brow pinched. Something flashes across his face that I can’t quite read before he nods his head once, and his demeanor changes, his body loosening as he leans back, keeping his eyes on me. “I want to please you, Mistress.” His fingertips dance beneath the hem of my skirt, and I shudder despite myself. His nostrils flare on a groan, and a small, unbidden whine forms in my chest.

Normally, I would push back. He’s leading from the bottom, which isn’t his personal preference, but the back of my mind screams to let him do whatever will steer us away from the topic of escaping. Away from danger.

I push up on my arms, lift my ass off the seat, and he makes a sound in the back of his throat I’ve never heard from him before. Then, his hands push my skirt up to bunch above my hips, and I sit back down, knees spread, eyes on his face. “How would you please your Mistress?”

His soft beard runs along the inside of my thigh before his lips do the same on a sigh. His deep inhale through his nose makes fire pool in my belly.

Why my body betrays my mind in the height of danger, from the flight itself and talks of running away, and thoughts of Matty in peril, I don’t know. I’ve never considered myself a fear junkie. Maybe it’s the idea of this wealthy, successful man doing my bidding without the club setting or the leather. This Alpha who could have any Omega he wants, yet he’s here, on his private jet, on his knees in between my legs.

Yes. That’s it. Just the thought makes my slick begin to pool inside my lacy panties, making his nostrils flare again.

“Let me eat this pussy. Please.”

His voice is barely a whisper, the sound of something close to pain in his tone. And it’s exhilarating.

I spread my legs further. “Make me come hard, Petrov.”