Crewe

The plane was already in the air before I began my conversation with Joseph. After they landed at the airport, they took my private helicopter and flew to the Shetland Islands, the northern tip of Scotland where I kept my residence. Subarctic, it was cold year round—but absolutely beautiful. I’d lived in many places during my lifetime, but the remote archipelago had a quaint quality I couldn’t find anywhere else.

With a small population, Scandinavian influences were prevalent among the islands. Life moved at a slower pace, concentrating on old Scottish ways of life. Most inhabitants were Shetland breeders, the small horses that weren’t much bigger than a pony. The grass was always green, and the ocean brought fresh air across the land on a daily basis. Full of wildlife, it was far removed from the bustling city and the rest of the United Kingdom.

My home had been built hundreds of years ago. I had to refurbish the interior, adding hardwood floors, central heating, and all the renovations that accommodated my eccentric taste. However, it still took on the appearance of a castle in the Scottish Highlands. It felt like a castle rather than a home, sometimes.

I sat in the living room, drinking my scotch and looking over a report from my distilleries where they created whiskey, making sure the blending was just right and still true to the flavor my ancestors created in the fifteenth century.

Ariel walked into the room in jeans with heels and a thick black sweater. Her brown hair was pulled back into an elegant updo. While she was soft on the eyes, she was hard on the inside. She was ruthless, authoritative, and cold—the best business partner I could ask for. “The helicopter is landing, Crewe.”

I set my work on the coffee table, abandoning the smooth scotch that flowed down my throat with just the right amount of heat. “Thank you, Ariel.” I buttoned the front of my suit then adjusted my watch. “We should give our new guest a proper greeting, shall we?” The corner of my mouth rose in a smile, knowing Joseph would pay for his recklessness until the day he died.

We left through the backdoor and crossed the short hawkweed and chickweed grass as we approached the helicopter that was slowly descending on the flat field. The property was right at the coastline, and I was the only landowner on this side of the island. My closest neighbors were clear on the other side, and since it was a vacation home, they were never there. I was never concerned they would discover my criminal activities due to their proximity. The only way back to the Scottish mainland was by boat or helicopter. The help was in charge of gathering supplies we needed on a daily basis.

Ariel walked beside me as we approached the chopper. It landed on the grass with grace before the engine was shut off. The propeller still spun as the engine cooled down. We stood side by side as we waited for our guest.

Ariel’s loose strands flew back in the wind from the propellers, and slowly, they fluttered until her hair was perfect once more. She placed her hands in her pockets, looking just as terrifying as me.

Dunbar came from the rear and joined us, his arm crossed over his muscular chest.

Ethan emerged from the helicopter carrying a woman in his arms. She was unconscious, her head dangling over the edge of his arm. Her long brown hair blew in the wind. She wore dark jeans and a simple top, obviously used to the humid weather of New York City in the summertime.

She was in for a surprise.

Ethan carried her toward me, the rest of the team in tow. In a black hoodie and dark jeans, he carried London effortlessly. “She was a bit ornery. Had to put her under.” He shifted her in his arms before he handed her off to Dunbar.

I took a peek at her, seeing the fair skin of her flawless cheeks. She had a small nose, full lips, and eyelashes that would make her eyes stand out if they were open. Petite in size, she didn’t seem like she could put up much of a fight. “She reminds me of a puppy—so innocent.”

Ethan chuckled. “This woman is not innocent. She almost got a hold of my gun. There’s no doubt in my mind she would have pulled the trigger.”

Now my interest was truly piqued. “Maybe she has more in common with Joseph than we realized.” I nodded back toward the house. “Let’s go.”

We walked back inside and went downstairs to the basement. It was still in the formation of a prison, with cement flooring and walls. There was a small cot in the corner, a toilet and a sink, but nothing else. There weren’t any windows because the basement extended deep into the ground. Only a few lights were on at a time, keeping my prisoner in near darkness.

Dunbar set her on the cot and pulled the blanket over her shoulders since she was frozen from the trek across the lawn. He pulled her hair out of her face and took a good look at her. “I’m excited for a go. She really is as beautiful as Ethan said.” He left her on the cot then closed the door, locking her up in a cell made of steel bars. She had no privacy from anyone within the basement. But now that she was no longer a real person, it didn’t matter. She was my retribution for what Joseph had done to me. I would get the four million dollars that was owed to me.

Actually, London would.

* * *

Everyone except my butler left for the day. Ariel and Dunbar took the helicopter back to the mainland, where they lived their own lives and spent their free time. I remained in the living room, drinking scotch in front of the fire and placing the cool glass against my temple when I felt a migraine coming on.

I enjoyed the peace and quiet this island provided. Sometimes it felt like just me and the sea, the waves crashing down against the cliff right outside my front window. I liked to keep the windows open so I could listen to the rhythmic sound. Something about its consistency stilled my nerves. Just like the sun would rise and set every single day, the waves would meet the shore, unaffected by any living man. The absolute power the elements had over mankind was fascinating to me.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave that kind of power myself.

Thump.

I stopped breathing when I heard the sound.

Thump. Thump.

I concentrated on the sound to pinpoint where it was coming from. Sometimes the wind howled on a cruel night, but there hadn’t been a storm in the forecast. I abandoned my scotch on the table and rose to my feet, thinking of where my weapons were stowed in the house, easily accessible from every room.

Thump.

My eyes darted to the ground, realizing exactly where the noise was coming from.

The basement.

My guest was awake.

I walked down the stairs to the basement wearing jeans and a t-shirt now that everyone had left for the day. After I opened the door, I peeked down the stairway and spotted London. She stood back on one leg and kicked the bars as hard as she could, trying to make them crack under her power. The force was so minimal, the bars didn’t even shake. She aimed for the hinges of the door but that didn’t make a difference either. Absorbed in her poor attempt to free herself, she didn’t notice my light footsteps as I approached the bottom of the basement. “The only thing you’re going to break is your knee.”

At the sound of my voice, she stood back, her forehead gleaming with sweat and her hair messy from exerting herself. Her hands were still held in front of her body, prepared for anything.

I walked to the door and looked at her, noting the way her jeans hugged her curvy hips and thin legs. The gray V-neck she wore pointed to her tiny waist, her natural hourglass figure obvious. She was definitely pretty, but she didn’t do anything for me. The guys talked about her like she was a perfect ten.

She was a perfect nobody to me.

“These bars are made out of steel, in case you didn’t notice. And we’re in the middle of the ocean on an island, so if you break something, you’re on your own. All I’ve got is Tylenol.” I stood at the bars and examined her, my arms crossed over my chest.

Despite her dire circumstance, she didn’t seem scared. She only appeared calculating, her brain working furiously to figure out what her next move should be. She tried to find a solution rather than give in to the panic.

“It’s time to make introductions. I’m Crewe—and I own you.”

As if I had slapped her, her eyes narrowed into a threatening expression. “What did you just say to me?” She walked toward the bars, having no reluctance for coming close to me. If I slid my arm through the bars, I could grab her by the neck. “I don’t give a damn who you are. You don’t own me. Nobody owns me.” She jabbed her finger into her chest, amplifying her meaning.

I liked her fire. She had a lot more courage than that pussy-shit brother of hers. “You’ll change your mind…in time.” I came closer to the bars, getting a better look at her. She had a nice mouth, wide with soft lips. I had the urge to run my thumb along her bottom lip, but I had no interest in kissing her. I just wanted to touch her—to pet her.

“I’m gonna get out of here. And when I do, I’m going to rip your eyes out of your head and shove them up your ass.”

The threat was so unexpected I actually laughed. “Whoa, you’ve got quite the mouth on you.” I chuckled from deep inside my chest. “But I like a woman with a dirty mouth.”

She didn’t let the implication deter her hatred. “Trust me, you aren’t going to like me.”

She was stuck in a prison with nowhere to run, but yet, she wouldn’t drop her guard. She wouldn’t drop her hostility or her pride. She could easily fall to her knees and weep. But she still stood on her own two feet—strong. “I think I already do.”

Stupidly, she thought I wasn’t paying attention to every single move she made. She waited until my eyes were locked on hers before she launched her hand through the opening between the bars and tried to grab my neck.

I’d been expecting it, so I dodged to the left and grabbed her wrist. I pinned her arm down, bending it at just the right angle to twist her elbow in an agonizing way. With just a little more pressure, I could’ve snapped it right in half.

She breathed through the pain but didn’t wince. The fire was still in her eyes, refusing to let me believe I had any power over her.

Somehow, my respect grew. “Don’t fuck with me, London.” I pressed my lips against her ear, listening to her heavy breathing. “I promise, you’ll lose.” I released her arm, allowing her to keep it for another day.

She immediately pulled her arm back into the cage and stood where I couldn’t reach her again.

“Smart girl.”

She let her arm hang limply by her side, refusing to caress it despite the pain she must have been experiencing.

“The sooner you behave yourself, the better your life will be. We’re on an island in the middle of the sea. There’s nowhere for you to run or hide—unless you want to jump to your death from a cliff.”

She stared at me with vicious eyes. “Doesn’t sound so bad right now.”

The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “If you get your act together, you can visit the rest of the house. But if you’d rather put up this fight, then you can stay in here.”

“I’m never going to act like an obedient dog, so it looks like I’m gonna stay down here.” She moved to the cot and leaned against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest while she stared me down with pure hatred.

“It’s awfully cold down here,” I warned.

“Better than being any closer to you.”

When I first saw her being carried off the helicopter, I had a completely different assumption about the kind of woman she was. I’d assumed she would be like everyone else, whiny and weak. I assumed her backbone would be just as soft as her cheek. But she took someone like me by surprise—which was difficult. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a shower down here.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“You won’t be allowed to take one until you behave yourself.”

“People used to only bathe once a year,” she countered. “I’ll be fine.”

I chuckled, loving the fact she had a response to everything I said. “Give it a week, and see if you change your mind.”

She pulled the thin blanket over her legs to keep warm. “If you’re done taunting me, you can leave.”

She was excusing me? “You don’t have any questions?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to know why you’re here?”

“It’s obvious.”

It was? “How so?”

“I don’t live under a rock,” she said coldly. “I know I’ve been abducted into sex trafficking. But I’m not worried about it because there’s a solution to every problem. I will find one.”

The smile left my face. “This isn’t school, London. There’s not a solution to every problem. Life isn’t as simple as a mathematical equation. I’m one of the greatest criminals of the underworld. I’m the kind of problem with no solution. I’m the kind of problem that can’t be solved. The situation you’re in is far worse than being sold into slavery—because you’re my slave.”