Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
A blonde woman in a pink sequined cowboy hat started talking to him.
Jealousy twisted in my stomach, but he didn’t seem interested in her at all. It only took a few moments for the blonde to rejoin the party. Amelia grabbed the mic, pulling everyone’s attention to the main stage on the other side of the room. She started making her speech about the foundation and where the money would be going, giving me a perfect distraction.
I rounded the table and stood behind my target.
In my purse I pulled out a plastic bag with a damp cloth in it.
I put one hand on Marksen’s shoulder.
He turned to look at me; his eyes widened but before he could say anything I put the chloroform-soaked pocket square to his face.
It only took a second for his body to go limp and hit the floor at my feet.
CHAPTER 40
MARKSEN
It took an effort to fight past the fog in my head to open my eyes.
I didn’t remember drinking enough to pass out, but I must have. I tried to raise my arm to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but I couldn’t move.
Everything was hazy and unfocused. My mouth tasted like it was full of pennies, so it took a moment to realize I had been tied up.
I pulled at the ropes that secured my hands and my feet to a wooden bed frame. My clothes had been taken, and I was lying naked on black silk sheets.
Searching the space, I recognized my own bedroom.
What the fuck? I was tied to my own goddamn bed.
I was in my room in my home in Rhode Island.
The one I took Olivia to that fateful night.
Luc must not have forgiven me after all.
My heart thundered as I pulled at the ropes. Sweat coated my back and the sheet stuck to my skin.
Luc had ties to the mafia. I thought he was working on severing those ties, not wanting his father’s underworld connections to taint his businesses, but maybe I pushed him too far.
What if kidnapping Olivia and sending him those photos was what turned Luc into his father? Had agreeing to help me exact revenge against the person who used us both just been a ruse?
The door opened.
I yanked harder on my restraints.
There was no telling what they were going to do to me. The Irish mob was known for their more creative forms of torture. They didn’t just kill someone. They made sure the death sent a message.
“Shhh, sweet prince, you are going to hurt yourself if you don’t calm down,” a soft feminine voice cooed.
I knew that voice. I looked up to see Olivia dressed in black lace lingerie that screamed femme fatale. The bra lifted her tits, giving her mouth-watering cleavage and barely covering her pretty pink nipples. The matching thong and garter belt were mostly transparent with strips of black elastic crisscrossing her body. She held a riding crop in one hand and petted my head with the other, soothing me like some wild animal in a cage.
“Olivia, what the fuck is going on?”
“What is going on is simple. You took me captive. But, my dark prince, you didn’t do it properly.” She crawled onto the bed and straddled me, her barely covered pussy right on top of my hardening cock.
I bucked my hips as I growled through clenched teeth. “Let me go, Olivia.”
“No. You held me here, and you kept threatening to tie me to the bed. If you had any real skill with kidnapping, you would have done it. So I thought I would show you how it’s properly done.”
“I’m warning you, Olivia,” I hissed. “Let me go.”
“I seem to recall asking you to do the same thing several times. What was it that you said?” She tapped her chin with the leather tongue of the riding crop. “Oh yeah.” She leaned down, her lips hovering over mine. “No.”
I could smell the sweet red wine on her breath. “Have you been in my wine cellar?” I asked, amused by her little game.
Now that I knew it wasn’t Luc or his father’s thugs here to kill me, or worse.
“Of course I did. I wanted it so I took it. Isn’t that what people in power do?” She rocked her hips, and I stifled a groan. “Just like how I wanted you, so I took you. But really that isn’t the point of all of this.”
This woman was going to be the death of me.
“Then what is the point?”
“The point, Mr. Dubois, is that you ruined me.”
“I deleted every single photo.” It wasn’t a lie, not really.
They had been deleted from any place someone else could get to them.
The photos were secured and stored on a computer that had never connected to the internet. It was where I kept digital files containing the most sensitive information. I deleted the files from every other source and even burned the USB jump drive I used to transfer the photos to my computer.