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What really grates my nerves, however, is that once a year since she was thirteen, they would drug her and the animals so she could be stripped down, and they would take photos of her. Photos that are far too personal for anyone to see.
“What did you do with the images?” My voice is subdued, deadly. No matter what the answer is, nothing will stop me from torturing these parents.
Justine swallows as all eyes shift to her. Marco gazes down over my shoulder to read what I just have, and I know the moment he gets to the answer to my question because his knives drop from the sleeves of his shirt to land in his palms, and he stalks around the room. Ready to strike at my command.
“Bring Seeley up here,” I demand. I have no idea of their feelings towards each other, but I know there must be something. They both have a simmering hatred for my sweet Rue, and I suspect things are even graver than I thought.
“Flip to the last page,” Adonis tells me. Meeting his gaze, I see the fiery rage in defense of my girl, and I expect it’s going to make me murderous.
Tossing the papers onto my desk, I hold the last one, my gaze flicking down to see a printout of a bidding war.
Russian mobster.
Arabian prince.
Chilean cartel boss.
Yakuza enforcer.
All of whom I know by name. I know what they do, the things they would do to the woman in my arms. The atrocities that would be inflicted upon her. But none of them matter because the name at the bottom is the worst of them all. Vegas royalty. He’d destroy her in ways nobody else could.
“Marco, set a meeting. We might have to eliminate him, but I need everyone’s agreement.” Adonis nods his head, giving me his agreeance. If anyone knows the winning bidder, it’s him.
They are brothers, after all.
CHAPTER 5
Rue
Slowly, I rouse from my nap, my ears filled with the sound of Nick’s thumping heart and angry voice. With me still in his lap, I know the furor isn’t directed at me but someone else. His hands move all along my body, but it’s the one between my legs that grabs my attention.
His fingers graze my sex, brushing against a piece of flesh that makes me want to weep and hold onto it all the same. I don’t know what’s happening to my body, but it seems to, and I thoroughly enjoy every second of it.
He’s petting me. Like I’m a kitten in his lap.
Snuggling in closer, he pauses for a second until I whimper and rub my face back and forth on his chest. When he resumes, his other hand delves into my hair, turning my head up so he can see my face.
Slowly, I open my eyes to notice him watching me. I smile softly, my cheeks flaming hot, but I don’t want him to stop.
“You like that?” he whispers down so only I can hear him.
Licking my lips, his eyes follow the movement of my tongue. “Yes.” I match my tone to his. Pleasure lines his eyes at my vocal response.
“I’ll never stop, then.” I nod as his petting grows more blatant, his attention drifting from me to focus on the people in the room. I don’t care who’s here so long as he continues touching me.
Scooting farther up his body, my head nearly pops out of the collar of his shirt, but I remain hidden, cocooned within his clothing as my lips press against his flesh. Laying light kisses across his chest, I wiggle against him, feeling that hard ridge of his manhood pressing into my belly as I do.
“She’s a fucking whore. Just like I always knew.” From the tone of voice, I realize it’s an insult, but I don’t understand what it means or who it’s directed at, so I ignore it.
“Watch your tongue.” Nick sits up straighter, the threat clear.
“Nick,” I gasp when there’s a pleasurable pulse where his fingers linger.
I search his gaze, finding a mixture of feelings shining down at me. “What are the cats’ names?”
Frowning at his puzzling question, I purse my lips before answering, “Mickey and Minnie.” His head shakes as an amused smile graces his lips, gone as quickly as it came.
“Mickey,” he barks, and I hear the answering growl. “Cut him down.” A masculine screech of pain follows his angered hiss. “I’m going to like having this guy around.” Others chuckle around me as someone gasps.
