“What the fuck is this?” I’m sitting behind my desk watching the two figures on the monitor. They’re passed out, lying on the floor in the basement, hands bound behind their backs. The girl’s eyes are covered with a blindfold.

Hugo, the man in charge of the clowns who fucked up tonight, is shaking his head, watching the same monitor. “She walked in on them. Saw their faces. They got scared.”

I look at him, tilt my head to the side. “They got scared? What is this, fucking amateur night?” Hugo opens his mouth to answer but I put my hand up to stop him. “Never mind. Did you recover the bag?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that’s something.” I turn back to the screen. “Who is she?” It’s only supposed to be that idiot Jones down there.

Hugo opens her wallet and hands me a driver’s license. Priscilla Hawking. Jones Hawking’s sister. I check her birth date. Twenty-four. She’s his kid sister.

I peer at the face smiling at me from the license then back at the screen. She’s passed out, and somewhere in transit, must have lost one of her shoes. She’s still got her coat on but it’s unbuttoned and her skirt’s ridden up to expose one slender thigh.

Jones’s body shifts a little. He’s waking up. I watch as he slowly blinks his eyes open and turns his head a little, surveying the ceiling. An instant later, he shoots upright. I smile. He knows where he is. Why he’s there. But then he sees his baby sister there, still passed out on the floor, and he starts crying like a fucking baby himself.

“Should I head down?” Hugo asks.

I almost forgot about him. “No. Give him a minute to appreciate his circumstances.” Because tonight, Jones is going to learn a valuable lesson.

I get to my feet. Hugo follows. I unzip the duffel bag my men retrieved and take a rough inventory of its contents. “All here?” I ask Hugo without looking at him.

“Looks to be.”

I’m fingering the slit in one of the bricks. “Tampered with.”

“He probably took a few hits but we got him when he arranged the sale.”

That’s how we found out it was Jones who’d stolen the bag. He tried to sell my coke back to one of my own men. Fucking idiot.

But Jones’s little stunt comes as a good lesson for me too. It reminds me that just because people fear you, doesn’t mean they’ll keep their sticky fingers out of your shit.

Tonight, I’ll make an example. Remind everyone what happens when you get greedy enough to steal from Killian Black.

I zip the duffel and glance again at the monitor. The girl creates a complication.

“Let’s go.”

Hugo follows me into the elevator and we ride it down to the main floor. The doors slide open and we step out into the nearly empty room. A girl is dancing on one of the stages and the manager sits watching her. She must be auditioning. I look over at her. Pretty, young, good looking, with a nice set of tits and a tight ass. She needs a little work in the dance department though.

Hugo and I head to the door leading to the staircase where two men stand sentry. They open the door when they see us approach and Hugo follows me down. For as luxurious as things are above ground, they’re that primitive below. But the basement, it’s not anywhere anyone wants to be.

My steps echo off the walls and the guard standing outside the door straightens.

“Open it,” I tell him.

He does. The two inside still instantly, both turning toward us, the girl blind from the cloth covering her eyes. She may have seen the faces of the idiots who kidnapped her, but she hasn’t seen me. Doesn’t know who I am unless her asshole brother told her.

I enter with Hugo close behind me. He closes the door.

Jones is blubbering, fucking crying again, his words are coming out so fast, I can’t make sense of them.

“Shut the fuck up.” It’s Hugo and he’s moved to stand behind the kneeling man. He presses the barrel of a gun to the back of Jones’s head.

Jones quiets but for the fucking sniffling. “Jones, don’t be a pussy,” I say, leaning against the wall, my eyes on the girl. She’s quiet, hasn’t said a word, but her head snaps in the direction of my voice the moment she hears it. She’s on her knees too, but I’m guessing it’s because her balance is off with the blindfold and her hands being bound behind her back. I know she’s pretty from her driver’s license picture, but in person, even with the blindfold on, she’s striking, with high cheekbones and plump lips I’m not sure she realizes she’s biting.

“Did you tell her what you did?” I ask Jones, not taking my eyes off the girl.

“I didn’t do anything. I was just…I found…I accidentally—”

Hugo mutters something and smacks him on the side of the head. It’s not a hard smack but Jones shuts up.

“You accidentally found a duffel bag full of coke?”

“Y…yes, sir.”

“And then what?” I ask.

“I…I was going to bring it back.”

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?”

“Please don’t hurt me! Please. I made a mistake. I—”

“Please don’t hurt you? What about your sister here? Should I hurt her instead?” Fucking coward piece of shit.

Jones shakes his head. “It’s all there. I was going to give it back.”

“Really? After you made arrangements for a sale?”

He takes in a deep breath, realizing I know.

I step toward him. “I have eyes and ears everywhere, understand, fool?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My brother made a mistake,” the girl suddenly says. “He’s not a fool.”

Her comment makes me chuckle, but she’s not making a joke. Her voice is soft and I know she’s trying to act like she’s calm, but I can see the pulse at her neck pounding.

“No? Because all evidence points to the contrary.”

She’s quiet, perhaps thinking how to reply. “Please don’t hurt him.”

That strikes me. Please don’t hurt him. Not please don’t hurt us.

“Should I let him walk out of here scot-free?”

She swallows, exhales a breath. She knows I won’t do that.

“Just…” She’s shaking her head and tears have wet the blindfold and her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Her apologizing makes me hate Jones even more. “Help her stand.”

Hugo takes her arm and raises her to her feet. She stands on the foot with the shoe, then shifts to the one without it. I step toward her and even though she can’t see me, I know she feels the shift because she backs up and stiffens, her face turning upward, searching for me.

“Priscilla Hawking,” I say, trying out her name. I want her to know I know exactly who she is.

She visibly shudders.

I move closer, then to her side, slowly behind her, eyeing the ropes that have cut into the skin of her wrists. I lean in and inhale a subtle scent of perfume beneath the acrid one of fear.

“Are you scared?”

She goes rigid. I know she can feel my breath on her neck.

“Answer my question.”

“Yes.” It’s a squeak.

I walk around her, resume my position facing her. “At least one of you is honest. But what kind of message would I be sending if I let Jones walk out of here? If I don’t punish him?”

She drops her head, wipes her nose on her shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be good for business,” I say.

“What are you going to do, then?” she asks, her jaw set when she turns her face up.

“Break a leg. Maybe two.” I shrug my shoulder as Jones starts blabbering some nonsense. I realize he’s probably stoned.

“I can pay you.” Her voice breaks and she can’t hide the fact that she’s crying now.

I step to her, reach out to touch a tear with my thumb. She gasps.

“This isn’t about money, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t—”

“Shh, Priscilla.” I turn to Jones. “Get up.”

She obviously thinks I’m going to break his legs right here, right now, because she throws herself forward, crashing into my chest. I catch her when she bounces backward to stop her from falling.

“I’ll do anything!”

I’m still holding her by the arms and she’s trembling.

“Please, please, just let him go. It was just a stupid—”

“Since when is stupidity an excuse?”

“Please. I’ll do anything you want.”

I let silence hang in the air between us, watching her. “Anything?”

She pulls back and turns her face up and suddenly, I want to see her eyes. But then, she nods. Three quick, nervous little nods.

I touch her face, smear a tear down over her chin, her throat, to the hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest. She’s holding her breath as I drag my finger down to where her blouse has torn a little, feel the softness of her breast. “Are you offering to fuck me, Priscilla?”

She draws back sharply. I watch her struggle to come to grips with what she’s just done. I walk behind her and touch the ropes binding her wrists. “I’ll have to see what’s on offer, of course.”

She makes a sound and I know she’s crying again.

Slowly, I untie the rope and the first thing she does is reach up to her blindfold. I grip both wrists from behind.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper in her ear. “Not if you want to walk out of here.”

Her hands shake but she nods and slowly sets her arms at her sides.

I move to stand before her.

“Show me.”

“Wh…what?”

“Show me what it is you’re offering.”

Her mouth falls open like she can’t believe what I just asked her to do. I don’t actually expect her to do it. To strip. I can tell she’s not that kind of girl. But when her trembling hands reach to draw her coat off her shoulders, I’m surprised. Hugo’s watching her too but her brother’s head’s bowed. I can’t believe he’d let his sister go through with this. Fucking asshole. When I’m done here, I think I’ll break his arms too.

Priscilla’s coat drops to the floor and she reaches for the buttons of her blouse. Tears are sliding down her face, but I can’t stop watching as each button is slipped through its hole and she pulls open her blouse, then drags it off, letting it drop to the floor on top of her coat. She’s wearing a pretty little white bra and I can see her hard, pink nipples through the lace.

Her hands move back and it takes her a minute to get her skirt unzipped. Once she’s done it, she pushes it down over slender legs. She’s wearing skin-colored thigh high stockings and I can see the neat mound of dark hair through the white lace of her panties.

She sets her hands on either side of her. I guess she thinks she’s done.

“Continue.”

“I…will you…” she’s starting to hyperventilate.

“Your brother’s a piece of shit. You sure he’s worth this?” I can’t help but ask. She reaches up to her face and I grab her wrists again, hold them between us. “U-uh.” I don’t want to have to hurt her. It doesn’t feel right. “Get dressed and go home. Let your brother deal with the consequences of his actions.”

“I can do this. I—I just need a minute. I just—”

“Cilla.” It’s Jones. We both turn to him.

“I—” Cilla starts, but stops.

“Go home, Priscilla. You don’t belong here,” I say.

“Please, I just…”

“You just what?”

Nothing.

I look her over. Something about her makes me curious.

“One month,” I hear myself say.

“W…What?”

“You’re mine for one month.”

“I—”

“I own you for thirty days,” I make very clear.

“I don’t understand.”

“I think you do. You have one minute to decide.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Anything I want.”

She knows my meaning.

I catch Hugo’s eye because suddenly, there’s nothing I want more than this. Her. One month. Her to myself. Mine.

When I give Hugo a nod, he cocks the gun. She jumps.

“Yes! Yes. Okay. One month. What you said. Please don’t hurt him. Please.”

Jones is quiet. I look away from her to him, grip a handful of his hair. “You going to let your sister do this?”

“I said yes!” his sister cries out. “Leave him alone!”

“Nothing?” I ask Jones.

He whimpers. Like the fucking coward he is. I take a deep breath in and lean in close so he and I are eye to eye. “I just need to know one thing before I take your sister to my bed.”

His bloodshot eyes finally glide over to where she’s standing beside us.

“Here, Jones. Focus here.” I tug on his greasy hair until he looks at me. “Who put you in touch with the buyer?”

Nothing. Nothing but fear.

“Let me help you out. Was it my fucking cousin?”

He doesn’t have to answer. I see the truth in his eyes. I release him and he falls backward.

“Please don’t hurt him!” the girl cries out again. I turn to her. Pull her toward me so her chest is touching mine, so my cock is pressing against her belly. So she can get a feel for what she can expect. Her hands come up between us, a barrier. One I easily push aside.

“Pretty Priscilla,” I start, reaching to undo the blindfold, dragging it slowly from her eyes. “So concerned for your brother. But aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?”