Chapter 5

Damien

Opening the door to my suite, I’m overly cautious. The off-chance Mirabelle is waiting for me has me a little on edge. I wouldn’t put it past her, especially after she gets sight of Svetlana.

They are going to bring Penelope directly here after her grooming is done, but I don’t want her to be in the same room as that venomous bitch again.

Armando forced my hand tonight in joining their disgusting club. While this isn’t something I was prepared to do, I now realize how crucial the moment was for Tony. He would fall in line. He would do what he was told. No questions or complaints. And that is what Armando wanted to make sure of. That Tony is his man no matter what.

Still, the action didn’t sit right with me. Even if I’m only playing a role, the girl changes everything.

It’s bad enough innocent women are involved, unknowingly risking their lives to bring this organization down, but now I must pretend to enjoy the spoils.

And pretending is all I’m going to be doing. There is absolutely no way I’m going to ruin this young girl’s life. No way. I didn’t save her from the viper Mirabelle to do something so cruel. Not even if they hold a gun to my head. Not that they’ll ever know I didn’t partake of the prize. As far as any of them will be concerned, Tony enjoyed his prize.

After reassuring myself the rooms of my suite are empty, I shrug off my suit jacket and drape it across the back of one lavish chair. Its matching twin sits across from it on the marble floor, along with a matching sofa.

As far as suites go, this is the nicest one I’ve ever seen, let alone stayed in. The view from my floor-to-ceiling windows looks out over the compound. There isn’t much in the way of a view, but it’s a large compound, and I’ve managed to make meticulous notes about the happenings going on around me.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to claim the rage slowly coming to a boil. I want so badly to shut these fuckers down, but it’s been difficult getting the proof I need. Even though I’ve reached the top of the food chain, I’m still not trusted with the day-to-day or the list of trusted buyers and sellers. There is only one man on that totem pole, and I don’t see him falling from grace any time soon. Which is why I need Mirabelle. She will be her husband’s downfall. She will be all their downfalls. And after tonight, I will have her securely in my pocket.

Women like her are easy to read. Power hungry. Greedy. Observant. I bet there isn’t a single thing that happens in this compound that she doesn’t know about. Sans me and what I’m here to do.

The only problem I foresee is whether the two top dogs will be taken down together or apart. Armando and Charles are rarely in the same place at the same time, and the next few days are going to be one of those rare moments. The pressure to get what I need has never been any stronger than it is right now.

A quick rap on my door breaks me away from my thoughts, and I walk over and open it. Andre walks in without a welcome, pulling the chain connected to the flurry of white and blond following behind him.

The sound of the chains clanking together whispers into the room as he leads her inside, stopping only when they get to the center of the room. He turns, bows his head, and extends his hand holding the chain, presenting it to me like I’m some king, signifying the transfer of her ownership.

I cringe inwardly, step toward him, and quietly take the chain from his hand. I look at her and hate that her eyes are on the carpet. I don’t care for her sign of submission. I don’t want it. I want to see the girl I met an hour ago, the one with fire in her eyes.

“Mr. Tony, I apologize if we took too long.” Andre finally looks up at me and nods his head respectfully again.

“Thank you, Andre. Your timing couldn’t be any more perfect, since I, too, just arrived back to my room.” I stand facing him, fighting the urge to drop the chain and deck the son of a bitch. But I notice the way his eyes look around the room before settling once again on me, like he has been sent here not to simply deliver the girl but to observe me. Like a spy. “Thank you for bringing her to me.”

“It was a pleasure, sir.” He nods again. His respectful nature makes me think of a bobble head sitting on the dashboard of some old beater. “If there is anything else I might do for you, please don’t hesitate.”

“Thank you, but I have everything I need.” I narrow my eyes on him, more than ready to dismiss him. “You may go.”

“Very well, sir.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a small silver object. And it isn’t until I feel the warm metal against the palm of my hand that I realize it’s the key to her shackles.

I manage to keep myself composed and unreadable, knowing he’s here not to simply deliver Tony’s prize. I’ll be damned if I give him something negative to take back to Armando. He crosses the room and exits, closing the door quietly behind him.

Straining my ears to hear his footsteps to walk down the hallway, I look over at her. “Cry out in pain,” I whisper, and she looks up at me in shock.

I move across the room, lock the door, and look out the peephole to watch him. He’s moving slowly, throwing a look over his shoulder every two steps or so. He pauses to fiddle with one of the plants sitting in the hallway, waiting for a reason to come back this way.

“Cry out,” I command her. My voice still a whisper comes out harsher than I intended, but she lets out a loud and long moan filled with frustration, anger, and, most of all, pain.

That’s it, sweetheart, let it out.

I place my eye over the peephole again and watch as the manservant nods his head with approval before disappearing around the corner.

Thank fuck.

I drop the chain connected to her and cross back over to her. She flinches when I stop in front of her, refusing to hide the way her body tenses and shakes, waiting for my next move. I drop down to one knee and reach for her foot. The need to free her from the heavy metal wrapped around her ankle is greater than my need for my next breath. She starts to put up a fight, but as soon as she realizes what I’m doing, she offers her foot willingly.

The daintiness of her ankles perplexes me, and when I see the red markings from the shackles on them, rage fills me. I want to drag the manservant back here and punish him for marking her. I want to soothe the marks, and for a moment, I get lost in that want. I run my thumb along the inside of her ankle, wishing away the hurt and the marks. Her sharp intake of breath echoes in my head, promptly clearing my fogging thoughts and reminding me of who and where we are. I release her ankle and let go of her to stand. I take three steps back to place some distance between us.

Her brow puckers in confusion. She doesn’t know how to react to me. I’ve probably shown her more kindness in the last thirty seconds than she’s known in a long time.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I contemplate my next move, but the sensation of her soft skin under my thumb lingers. I can’t have that.

“You need to go to bed.” I swallow hard, trying to control myself and the sudden reaction my body is having to her. “The door behind you, that’s the bedroom. I won’t bother you.”

She moves toward the door, clearly relieved to be excused. Maybe she’s embarrassed by my inappropriate touching. She stops momentarily to look back at me and ask, “What should I call you?”

“Tony. My name is Tony.”

She nods and opens the door only to disappear behind it a second later.