CHAPTER TWENTY

AVERY

“HOW DID SHE DO?” I ask Kayn on the other end of the phone.

“It was a rough start. She freaked out once we got to the plane. But Darrell took care of it.”

“How did he take care of it?” I snap.

“He drugged her,”

My chest tightens. She probably fought him. And he probably had to hurt her. “Good,” I say, knowing that at least he got the job done. She would have been a ball of nerves if she had to stay awake for the flight.

“We’re just pulling back up at the house. I’m gonna get them all inside and settled, and then I’ll be on my way back to get you, sir.”

I hang up and take a drink of my scotch, standing in my living room in Rio. The burning fireplace provides the only light in the room as I think over what I am about to do. I had to send Bunny away because she’s unpredictable. I need to have complete control of this dinner. I could have let her stay. I could have tied her hands behind her back, put a blindfold over her eyes, and a gag in her mouth while making her kneel beside me at the table. But what if she moaned? What if her nipples had gotten hard? What if he liked her more in person than when he saw her on the video?

All too risky. She had to leave.

“Sir?” I hear Marvin enter the room behind me. “Dinner is ready. And your guest just pulled into the drive.”

I take another drink. “Thank you, Marvin.”

Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text to my brother. He’s here. And then slip it back into my pocket. Usually for a meeting like this, I would not allow my best men to leave me alone, but I felt Bunny needed the support more than I did. Plus, my brother is just right outside with ten of his own men. The house is surrounded.

Taking another drink of my scotch, I smile over the rim. We’ve been trying to find this man for years. And thanks to Bunny, he’s willingly walking right into my home. I’m gonna give her an endless amount of orgasms as soon as I see her. She has earned them, after all.

I sit at the head of the table when Marvin enters once again. A man dressed in a three-piece charcoal gray suit stands next to him. His silver hair is combed to the side to hide the fact he’s balding. The buttons on his button-down strain from his stomach, and he wears a smile that makes even the villain look like a hero.

I stand and reach out my right hand. He can come to me. “Damon. I’m surprised you were able to meet me on such short notice.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he says, shaking my hand.

We both know he was in Cuba when he called me last night after I spoke to my brother on the phone. “Please, have a seat.” I gesture to the one across from me, and he takes it. His black eyes look around the table at all the empty chairs, and then his eyes fall to the floor beside me.

“Where is your slave?”

That, right there, is why I made Bunny leave. She would have ruined everything. “She won’t be joining us tonight.”

His black eyes narrow on me. “I thought this was a business meeting?”

“It is.”

“Then why is the merchandise not here?” he snaps.

My jaw tightens, but I hide it quickly. “She is a little tied up right now,” I lie.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and the corner of his eyes crinkle. “That I would love to see.”

I grab my fork and wish I could stab him like Bunny stabbed Darrell. Only I’d stab him in the eye. Over and over.

“Why do you want my slave?” I come out and ask.

He places his silverware down, no longer interested in the food that Marvin spent three hours cooking. “Her brother killed my brother. I think I am owed compensation.”

“Her brother?” I play stupid.

He nods once. “Preston. I hear you know him.”

“I do,” I say, lifting my glass of scotch and taking a drink.

“You guys grew up together.” He doesn’t ask, but I nod.

“I also shot him two weeks ago.” His brows lift in surprise. “The same time I bought his sister.”

He takes a drink of his scotch and sets it down. He folds his hands on the table. “I’ve been informed that you loved his sister. You guys were engaged once.”

“That was a long time ago,” I say tightly. Preston is running his mouth more than I knew.

“How long?”

“Eleven years.”

He sits back in his seat. “I’m not a man who loves, but I find it hard to believe that you loved this girl enough to marry her, and now she’s your slave.”

“People change.”

“How so?” he digs farther.

I take another drink of the scotch. “I have my reasons.” That’s all he’s gonna get from me.

“I see,” he says softly.

“I have a lot of unfinished business with her. And I don’t intend to sell her. No matter what the price is.”

“That’s a shame. I wanted to have the set,” he mutters before taking a drink.

I arch a brow. “What do you mean by the set?”

He smiles that smile that makes even my skin crawl and nods once. “I have her mother. I love having mothers and daughters.”

I stare at him, unable to keep the surprised look off my face. “Her mother is dead,” I say slowly.

He shakes his head. “She’s very much alive.”

I swallow. My throat all of a sudden dry. “You must be mistaken.” Her parents died when Presleigh was fifteen. Preston seventeen. I remember it very clearly because I worried about her for weeks afterward. She didn’t show much grief for either of them. She never was close to her dad. She hated that man, but I expected her to feel something for the loss of her mom. She closed off and shut me out for a while, but the breakdown I kept waiting for never came.

That was also when they moved in with us. They had no other family. Nowhere else to go. Since my father and hers were best friends, he took them in to live with us.

“Presleigh wasn’t the only one who her brother tried to sell.”

My mind is foggy. My chest tight. “Wait,” I say, waving a hand. “What do you mean sell?” Who said he was trying to sell Presleigh? I thought he wanted her for revenge?

His smile disappears, and he huffs as if he is dealing with an idiot. I am at the moment because I’m confused as fuck.

“Their father owned slaves just like your father.” I nod. I know that much. “Their father died in a plane crash. The news broke and said that the mother was with him, but she wasn’t. She was back at home. Preston was in debt. A lot at the age of seventeen. He already had a gambling problem and was into slaves just like his father. It’s no secret their dad was one of my worst enemies, so Preston sold his mother to cover all his debt.”

No fucking way this is true. “I don’t believe it,” I say, shaking my head.

He digs into his suit jacket pocket and removes his cell. He presses a few buttons and then slides the iPhone across the table. I pick it up when it comes to a stop in front of me. “Just press play.”

I do as he says, and a woman comes into view. She kneels in the middle of a carpeted room. Her hands are tied behind her back with rope from her wrists all the way up to her upper arms. Her head is bowed, brown hair shielding her face from the camera. Whoever is holding the camera walks around her slowly, giving a three-sixty view of her. Damon stands in front of her, his hands behind his back, staring down at the woman.

“I have some good news,” he says cheerfully.

She slowly lifts her head, but the camera is now behind her, and I’m still unable to see her face. “You’re dying?” she asks dryly.

He laughs at her insult and then smiles down at the woman. “No. I was just informed that your daughter has been kidnapped and sold for two million.”

“No,” she whispers.

“Yes.” He brings his hands around and claps once. “But I’m gonna offer three. Wouldn’t that be fun? Me, you, and her. I’d love to watch her scream like I have watched you all these years.”

The woman jumps to her feet and runs right at him as a scream erupts from her lips.

He reaches out and wraps his hand around her neck and slams her back onto the floor. “You …” He cuts off her air while she thrashes under his hold.

And I feel the breath leave my lungs when I get a clear view of her face. Those same blue eyes that Presleigh has. Her dark hair has quite a bit of gray in it, and it is all different lengths as though someone just started cutting away and not caring about how it would look after it’s done. But there’s no mistaking … It’s her.

“Carl, get the paddle and chains,” he orders. “It’s time to play.”

I turn off the video unable to watch any more of it. I feel sick. I shove his phone back across the table to him. He laughs, not seeing the look of disgust on my face. “She’s always been a fireball, but since then, she’s been a fucking match.”

I feel my cell vibrate in my pocket, and I dig it out.

Three-minute warning.

It’s a text from my brother. “I need to make a call,” I say. Standing from the table, I walk out of the room, not caring how disrespectful it is.

Tristan picks up on the first ring. “What are you …?”

“Call it off!” I snap.

“What?” He sighs. “Avery, she’s not here. Nothing will happen to her. All you gotta do is duck …”

“Fucking call it off, Tristan!”

“No. This is our only chance.”

“Preston and Presleigh’s mother is still alive. She’s Damon’s slave.”

“What?” he asks, sounding just as confused as I was two minutes ago. “That’s not possible …”

“I just watched a fucking video on his cell, and it was her,” I snap.

“Maybe it was old.”

“No. It was just recently. He told her that Bunny was sold.” She’s hasn’t even been with me for three weeks yet.

“Fuck,” he hisses, finally coming around.

“If we kill him, we’ll never find her, and Bunny will never forgive me,” I say, shaking my head. Some things I can come back from with her but not this. Bunny is my main priority right now, but I have to do something to get her mother.

He lets out a long breath. “She doesn’t have to know. And why do you fucking care? You hate Presleigh, remember?” he snaps, getting irritated.

I don’t know why, but I do. I can’t let this happen. “Goddammit, Tristan. I’m calling it off. Don’t you dare bring one man into my house or I will shoot you my-fucking-self,” I growl, and then I hang up.

Walking back into the formal dining room, I find him scowling up at me from his seat. I take mine and place my forearms on the table. “Now explain to me what you meant by Preston was selling my slave.”

He sits back and wads up his napkin, slamming it down on the table, showing his anger. But he says, “He’s in debt.” No surprise there. “Owes a friend of mine money and offered up Presleigh.”

“How much?”

“Five hundred grand.” He shrugs. “I must say, it’s a much better deal than what you paid for her.”

Preston was trying to sell her for five hundred thousand dollars? But why?

Make sure to grab the goods. That’s what Preston had told his men when he was about to leave after he ordered them to kill me in New York. I never paid much attention to what he meant. Until now. He was going to run with her. Sell her.

Over my dead body!

He nods to me. “Who did you buy her from anyway?”

“Jensen.” I answer and hope he believes the lie. Jensen is the fake identity we had given Tristan.

“And how did he get his hands on her?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

I sit back in my seat and glare at him. “I never asked. All that matters is that she’s mine now. And she’s not going anywhere.”