Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
He stayed silent. That was the worst of all.
“Please,” I said, all but begging now, desperate. I’d already opened my mouth and asked him for help. There was no going back now. If he wouldn’t help me, I’d be up shit creek without a paddle.
I’m already in that situation.
Hell, I’d rather be dead than think of what those assholes would do to me. Cameron certainly seemed far worse, far scarier, than what I was currently dealing with, and he’d only said a handful of words to me, only stared at me, maybe gauging how “worth it” I was.
He chuckled then, but it wasn’t humorous, wasn’t filled with amusement. It was the laugh of a depraved man…of the very devil himself, perhaps.
“I’ve always liked the sound of begging.”
I bet he did.
I looked around his office. Aside from the television monitors behind him that showcased the entire club, and his desk and chair, there wasn’t anything else in the room. It was like a coffin, a large, cold and frightening coffin. It was a place for someone to rot in the ground, away from anything and everything.
It was dark, like his soul, no doubt.
I didn’t have anything of real value to offer—that was my problem, and how I’d gotten into this shit storm to begin with. But a man wanted one thing, and it was something I had, something I could give him in exchange for his help. Whether he’d accept it or not, deem it worthy of his time, was left to be determined.
Before I could say anything, Cameron started drumming his fingers on the desk, his focus trained on me, as if I was intruding on his time, despite the fact that he’d invited me here. I shifted on my feet, feeling very vulnerable in this moment. I could see his mind working, and whatever he was thinking about couldn’t be good.
I took a step closer and saw something dark come into his eyes. I wasn’t wearing anything sexy, but I didn’t need to show off skin to get a guy’s attention. The way he skimmed my body with his gaze told me all I needed to know.
Yeah, all men wanted something, one thing, but I was pretty sure I had something a man like Cameron could appreciate…nothing to lose.
“Tell me your name.”
“Sofia Mikellson,” I supplied, my voice wavering despite my desperate internal struggle to stay calm.
“Sofia.” The way he said my name, the way it rolled off his tongue shouldn’t have made me tingle, shouldn’t have made my body tighten. He said it with this thick darkness in his voice that should have scared the shit out of me.
It did.
“Isn’t asking for help the reason you’re in this situation?”
It was like he’d read my mind, his words a hot poker right through me.
“Yes,” I whispered, not bothering to lie.
Or maybe I was trying to jump out of the frying pan, the heat turned up so that I’d burn until there was nothing left.
I could be a slave to his desires, a submissive to his dominance. I could be his personal victim. If it meant that I stayed alive in the end, so be it. I could be whoever, whatever he wanted.
It seemed like an eternity before he finally moved, before he finally spoke.
He leaned forward, his forearms on the table, his expression suddenly intense. “You need my help, and the payment I want in return is your body…used in any way I see fit, for the duration of two weeks.” And then he smirked. It was dark and dangerous, and shouldn’t have made me feel anything other than self-loathing. “You’ll be mine, Sofia. Any. Way. I. See. Fit.”
I breathed in harshly. “Yes. Okay.”
And so it was. I’d just sold myself to the devil.
Chapter 9
I felt like a lifetime had passed since I’d spoken with Cameron, told him my troubles…asked him for help. But in reality it had only been a few days.
Hours, seconds, minutes, of me wondering what would happen, when it would take place. Would he scare Ricky, use his influence, whatever that might be, and make him leave me alone? Would he kill him?
I hadn’t heard anything from him regarding it, and although Ricky hadn’t bothered me, I felt someone watching. I swore a car followed me, that same dark SUV that I’d seen when I went to find Marshall. Maybe it was just my nerves, my paranoia slamming into me, claiming me, and dragging me under. But even if it was, I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t push it away or bury it, no matter how much I wanted to.
You should just leave and take your chances.
Yeah, that was easier said than done. I had no money—none that I dared to use, anyway. And even if I did leave, where would I go? Who would I run to? And I had a feeling Ricky would just find me. Because I hadn’t heard anything from Cameron either, I couldn’t guarantee that he’d still help me. But I didn’t think he forgot about the agreement.