Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
The other part, though, is resistant to claim her, thinking back over what Kiersten’s done for the past two decades. I always gave her the option to pursue outside projects when we were together. Despite my nickname for her, she was never just a ‘whore’ to me. And if for a moment I thought she truly believed that’s all she was, I would have banished that word from my vocabulary.
But to know that she’s spent her youth working, driven by what we shared for those precious months, shames me. She did it all alone. She did it all while mourning and with false hope. I should have been here with her.
We could have explored, played, had years of passion and growth together.
We could have had those years.
We’ve lost so much time. Time that we’ll never get back. And I’m the one who made that call.
“Your whiskey, sir,” a waitress says quietly, approaching. She and the other staff are the only people in the room who aren’t wearing club membership bracelets, and that thought reminds me of my own fresh bracelet on my wrist.
“Thank you,” I respond gruffly, accepting the drink. Even with security detailing us since the moment the note was found, at a distance so Kiersten isn’t aware, I don’t intend to drink. I only ordered to fit in with the crowd.
I take the glass, swirling the amber fluid around in the tumbler. Like the years slipping past us, the alcohol spins around, leaving nothing behind in its wake. But like the alcohol itself, it can devastate the body and heart.
A chill ripples down my spine, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise up. I set my glass down, looking around the room. Someone’s watching me.
I turn around to see no one there. My gaze moves across the room, searching for the stare that gives me the chills of knowing someone is watching.
There’s no one, though. No one is looking at me. All of the Doms are focused on the brunette on stage.
There’s a lot of subtle posturing going on in the room, men who clearly know who each other are despite the masks and who are playing similar games to what I used to do long ago.
So of course, a few of them are curious about the new mask in the group. They obviously want to know who I am and whether I represent a new challenge to the games they play. If only they knew how very uninterested I am in anyone other than Kiersten.
The chill runs down my spine, but it’s none of them. Their eyes might glance over me, but once they see that I’m not bidding on a particular woman, I’m at least temporarily dismissed from their minds.
I can’t see anyone when I turn around in my seat again, yet that feeling won’t go away. I remind myself that this place is the most secure building I have access to at the moment. Joshua and his men have surrounded this place, and there’s nothing at all I can do but wait. I message Joshua just to alert him in case anything is amiss. A man in a suit enters shortly after, security for the club, but he leaves within minutes.
There’s nothing. There’s no one.
I watch the room, ignoring the women and ignoring my fantasy of winning and claiming Kiersten publicly again. There’s only one thing on my mind—find the threat and end the threat. Silently and permanently.
Because I won’t let what happened before happen again.
KIERSTEN
Present
“Idon’t like it.”
In some ways, it’s imploring. Holden sits across from me in my office, digesting the revelation I made to him about Gabriel. I’ve glossed over most of the details, of course. But I had to confide in someone, and Holden saw Gabriel in the club, he saw the collar on my neck, and he asked. So I told him. I let it pour out of me. He’s a man from my past, and not only do I vouch for him, but Joshua vouches for him as well. And we’re involved.
“There’s just something . . .” He licks his bottom lip as he shakes his head. “I don’t like it.”
My nerves prickle, and although I appreciate the protectiveness, it’s irritating. He thinks he can have a say in who I’m involved with?
“Why is that, Holden?” I ask. “If you want, I can point him out on the cameras. He’s not doing anything wrong or breaking any rules.”
Although we were getting rather naughty just a few hours ago. I don’t have cameras in the office, though, thank goodness.
“It’s not that. I’m just saying . . . this guy just waltzes back in and you’re fine with it?”
“There’s a lot of reasons he left,” I confide a little more. “Holden, I loved him. I’ve always loved him. He’s the man who inspired me to become the woman I am today. And he cares for me.” Instinctively, my fingers reach up to brush the collar, and Holden’s gaze drops before his brow furrows.