Zoya dropped the towel she’d wrapped around herself after her shower. The warmth of the water streaming over her skin had reminded her of the heat of Stryder’s body pressed against hers. Pulling on a bra and panties, she stepped into the closet. She still couldn’t believe she’d been so… so brash as to strip in front of him and yet, God, it had felt both wicked and exciting. The fact that they hadn’t even spoken, hadn’t needed to as he’d lifted her only to fill her, made it all the more delicious. Flipping absently through the hangers, she felt her face heat as she had the rather naughty thought of exactly how wonderfully he’d filled her. When she remembered how he’d stood behind her, the pressure of his cockhead against her anus, she felt a shudder run through her. Never in her life had she imagined such a thing and yet she’d never for a moment considered pulling away, denying him what he wanted. It had been painful but also incredibly pleasurable and her orgasm had been intense. The memory of his promise to “properly” fill her the next time had her nipples hardening and her panties dampening.

“You, girl, are turning into quite the harlot,” she scolded. Smiling, she admitted the words sounded more like a compliment than a chastisement. Shaking her head and the thoughts of the experience away, she pulled a dress from its hanger and pulled it over her head. Slipping into a pair of sandals, she returned to the bathroom and picked up a brush. Drawing it through her hair, her hand paused mid-stroke at the sight of a reddened area on the side of her neck. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she remembered the feel of Stryder’s lips pressed against her flesh, licking, kissing, nibbling and biting.

“No ponytail for you,” she said, snapping out of the memory with the knowledge that, unless his entire family were blind, they’d know exactly how it had gotten on her skin. It took her a few more minutes to brush and dry her hair. A knock on the door had her jumping, her face heating as she quickly pulled some strands forward to hide the love-bite on her skin as she walked across the room.

“I can’t believe you… oh, hi.”

“Hi… um, am I interrupting—”

“No, not at all,” Zoya said. “I just thought you were Stryder.” Realizing that might sound improper, she felt her face heat again as she added, “He tends to um… pop up… um, I mean show up…” Good God, she sounded like an idiot.

Adira’s laugh and smile eased her embarrassment. “Hey, don’t feel you have to explain. In fact, I’m not really sure anyone could explain these men. Maddox can drive me absolutely crazy, so I’m not the least bit surprised Stryder seems to be having the same effect on you.”

Zoya wasn’t sure why, but the words had her relaxing and then giggling. “They all are so totally different than any men I’ve ever known. Stryder most especially.”

“I feel the same way about Maddox and believe me, I never expected to fall in love with him.” Adira smiled as she added, “But I am so very, very glad I did. I came to see if you wanted to have a bit of girl talk. Jennie just made some blackberry tea, and I thought we might sit out on the back porch.”

It was a perfect opportunity to have some of her many questions answered, and yet Zoya knew she was expected in the operations center. “I’d love to but when we got back from our… um, run, Anson said he and the others were needed in the operations room. I was supposed to join them in case I can help.”

“No problem,” Adira said, linking her arm with Zoya’s. “We’ll go together and talk later.”

The two women walked through the house. “You know, this really is amazing,” Zoya said as they stepped into the tunnel. “When we were running, I tried to see if I could tell this was even part of the house and I couldn’t.”

Adira laughed. “I did the same thing. I’ve hiked all around and couldn’t find a single clue as to the existence of these caverns. Maddox even took me up in the plane one day, and I couldn’t spot the antennas needed to run the operations center from the air. These men take not only their job seriously, they are sticklers for absolute privacy.” They’d walked several feet towards the first turn before she continued. “Has Stryder shown you all the rooms down here?”

Zoya shook her head. “No, just the operations center, but he did mention that I could use the gym if I want.”

“It would be nice to have another woman to work out with. There’s even a sauna and a shower to use afterwards. Oh, and did Stryder let you in on the secret?”

“Secret? He said that it wasn’t a secret but that ignorance is bliss. What do you think he meant by that?”

Adira laughed. “It sounds like, unlike his brother, Stryder isn’t willing to share if you ask me.”

“Share? Share what? Oh…” Visions of the brothers surrounding this beautiful woman flooded Zoya’s face with heat.

Adira shook her head. “No, no, it’s not what you’re thinking. I’d tell you more but I was sworn to secrecy, but I will assure you that Maddox is not into sharing me.”

Zoya chastised herself again. Ever since she’d met Stryder, her thoughts tended to instantly turn carnal. “Well, that’s good, but that still doesn’t explain how ignorance can be bliss. In fact, ignorance of this supposedly ‘not secret’ is going to drive me nuts.”

“Don’t fret, it’s nothing really, and I’m sure that it won’t take but one trip to the gym for you to become a member of the club.”

More confused than ever, Zoya didn’t have time to consider what Adira meant because they had reached the door to the operations center. The tension in the room was palpable, the men all staring at one of the monitors. The two women remained silent, arms around each other’s waist as they listened. It wasn’t until she heard Stryder say that the man was going down that Zoya heard Adira give a soft moan. It was enough to have Maddox turning towards the door.

“Adira?”

Maddox was out of his chair and rushing towards his wife and pulling her from Zoya’s embrace. “It’s all right,” he said, holding her close as Zoya stood wondering how the woman had gone from smiling to looking as if she were going to pass out.

“This is all my fault,” Adira said. “You are all in danger because of me.”

“None of this is your fault,” Stryder said, moving to wrap an arm around Zoya. “It’s not your fault or Zoya’s. Poplov is to blame for everything.”

All Zoya understood was that she wasn’t the only one to fear Vasily Poplov. From Adira’s reaction, it was clear the woman had experienced something awful at the man’s hands. Was this the secret Stryder had refused to divulge? Was Adira another woman held and sold? Before she could process anything, Adira stepped away from her husband, the color returning to her cheeks.

“Enough. I don’t care what it takes, how much it costs, if you don’t stop him, I will!”

Maddox pulled her back to his chest. “Settle down, babe. We are going to stop him. He’s showed his hand, and we’re going to make damn sure it’s a losing one.”

“I don’t understand,” Zoya finally spoke. “What has happened?”

“Come, sit with me,” Stryder said, moving back to the chair he’d leapt from. Sitting down, she allowed him to pull her onto his lap but her eyes were on the monitor. She saw a list of names. Another monitor showed photos of men and women, and she recognized these people had been at the auction. Seeing Natalia’s face, she understood that someone had taken the portraits she’d drawn and used them to find actual photographs.

Anson pointed to the list and explained what they’d discovered. Zoya didn’t interrupt as she listened carefully. When he was done, she nodded.

“So, it was all some sort of plan to trap you?” Her question was directed at Stryder.

“Not just me,” he said, “all of us.”

“He kidnapped me… all those other women, sold us for what? Revenge? What did you do to him?” She was aware that her voice had become shrill but the horror of being used as a pawn in some game she’d never planned on playing was causing every moment of the days she’d spent in that room to come back in full force. The need to flee overcame her, her hands pushing against Stryder’s chest. “Let me go!”

“No.”

“I can’t breathe… I can’t think…”

“Zoya… Zoya, stop!”

The sharp tone of his voice went unheard but the sting of his hand against her thigh had her freezing in place.

“Zoya, breathe with me,” Stryder said, the hand he’d slapped her leg with moving to cup her cheek. His forehead touched hers, blocking everything from view except for his eyes. “Concentrate on me. Inhale.” The words were softly spoken, his finger stroking her skin as she unconsciously took a breath. “Good girl. Now exhale.” She obeyed, then obeyed again, following each order, mimicking his every breath until she felt the terror slipping away. Still he held her, his eyes locked onto hers for several more breaths. Finally, he pulled away just enough to touch his lips to hers. “Better?”

She could only nod, not trusting herself to speak, but no longer desperate to flee. Yes, she’d been taken, her life ripped apart but in her heart, she knew that none of that was Stryder’s fault. If his family were now the target of a madman, there had to be a reason why. After a moment, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Stryder said. “Like I said before, none of this is anyone’s fault but Vasily’s.” His glance swiveled towards Adira, who was now sitting on Maddox’s lap. Zoya watched as the woman glanced up at her husband and then, as one, they gave small nods of their heads. Nodding back, Stryder then returned his attention to her.

“Zoya, Poplov made himself an enemy of every Steele the moment he set out to destroy Adira’s entire family. He almost succeeded and yet thankfully he didn’t. Pops and Maddox managed to save Adira when her family’s yacht exploded. Do you remember me speaking of a man named Hadi?” When she nodded, he continued. “He is Adira’s grandfather and was spared because he was in Africa that night. Poplov knows this, but he evidently believes he is some sort of demigod—someone above blame or justice. What he won’t admit is that while he might have won this hand, I… we promise he will not win the game. No one messes with my family and lives to tell about it. Not ever again.”

Zoya heard not only determination in his voice, but also saw a flash of pain in his eyes.

“He’s right,” Maddox said. “Between the Steeles and the Nazars, Poplov’s days are numbered.”

Drake nodded. “The son of a bitch fucked with the wrong families when he fucked with you and Adira. Oh, pardon my language. I tend to get a bit riled up when my women feel unsafe.”

She managed a small smile as his words broke the tension. Looking around, she saw the same determination on each man’s face. As for Adira, Zoya couldn’t imagine what the woman must have gone through. Her own family had been threatened and yet from what she’d just learned, Adira’s had been decimated.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

Adira nodded and managed a small smile. “One day, I’ll tell you everything that happened to me, but for now, I have a question.”

“What is it?” Stryder asked.

“Poplov knew who you were but didn’t let on. He used your aliases, right?” At his nod, she looked at Zoya. “Yet, why didn’t he give Zoya an alias? It’s like he doesn’t care that these men know the women’s real identities. How can they not be worried, at least a little, that one might escape… like Zoya? She could go straight to the authorities and claim kidnapping, abuse, sex trafficking—”

“No,” Zoya interrupted. “Poplov’s not worried about any of us testifying against him or the men who were there.”

“Why not?” Maddox asked.

“Because of the contracts we all signed.” Zoya turned to Stryder. “The papers he gave you when we left. My passport and an envelope?”

He nodded, his brow furrowed as he looked at Anson. “Where is it? I never opened it.”

Anson stood, and after shuffling through piles of paper he’d obviously been going through, brought a cream-colored envelope to Stryder. Ripping it open, Stryder pulled out a single sheet of paper. “This is a contract? Not much here.”

“It doesn’t have to be long,” Zoya said. “Read it.”

Stryder did. Zoya didn’t have to listen, she knew each word by heart. She’d penned every one herself, as had all the women.

I, Zoya Morozova, willingly accept the role of sexual slave. I forfeit all rights, all possessions to my owner. I will obey all orders given and relinquish all responsibilities, all rights, including the right to live, to the one who holds this contract. I do so with complete understanding and acknowledgement that from this point forward, I am no longer a human, I am a possession at the mercy of the one who owns me.

“Oh, God,” Adira said, the words full of pain.

“There’s not a fucking court that would uphold this as being a legal document,” Stryder snarled, crumpling the sheet in his fist.

“Not true,” Zoya said, placing her hand over his. “Maybe not here in America, but I don’t think Poplov would have had us write them, sign them, if he didn’t believe they’d hold up.”

“Like the bills of sale we got when we bought the stallions,” Maddox said. “Poplov was there. Except instead of horses, he sold human beings. Zoya is right. I can see other officials, those in countries controlled by corruption, accepting them if one ever came up in some fucking kangaroo court.”

“And I’m betting neither he nor any of the other men ever expect to need any contract. It was most likely another layer of threat to keep the women in line. Why did you sign it, Zoya?” Anson asked.

“Because I didn’t care what happened to me, but I thought he’d kill my family if I didn’t.” She paused and looked at Adira. “And now I know he wouldn’t have hesitated to do so.”

Stryder’s arms tightened around her, and she could see the vein in his neck pulsing. Placing a finger on it, she said, “It doesn’t matter now because we are going to stop him. Right?”

“Right.” The word was chorused by everyone in the room.

Zoya smiled and nodded. “Then what can I do to help?” She was pleasantly surprised when she wasn’t told she wasn’t needed. Instead, Stryder first took her hand and kissed her palm, then motioned towards the monitors.

“You said there were thirteen women, including yourself, and yet Anson only remembers there being a dozen on the stage. Who is missing?”

Sliding from Stryder’s lap, she moved to the screens as Anson rearranged the photographs into rows of four across and three down, her own among the faces. She took her time, starting at the first photo, going from one to the next until she’d listed every name in her head. Then she did it again. Finally, she looked up.

“Sophia, she’s not here. Remember I told you about her? How she was the only one who fought back? Why didn’t I draw her? I thought I’d drawn all of the women.”

“When was the last time you remember seeing her?” Stryder asked, coming to stand next to her.

Zoya considered the question, straining to remember. She closed her eyes, again taking deep breaths, forcing herself back to the morning of the auction. Running the events through her head: the humiliating examination, the shower, the hair and make-up, being dressed as if they were models about to walk down the runway of some fashion show. Opening her eyes, she looked at the monitor again.

“She was with us when they woke us but once we were taken from the room, she disappeared. Do you think she got away somehow?”

Stryder shook his head. “I don’t see how that would have been possible. You told me that you were never left alone, right?”

“Only at night after they chained us to the bed,” Zoya said. When Stryder reached for her hands, she realized she’d been rubbing her wrists as if to ease the pain from the cuffs that had been used to shackle them.

“You told us that Sophia had been taken away, you heard her screaming, that she was returned and the guard had a cane. He used it to threaten the rest of you, correct?”

This time she could only nod, the memory of those screams echoing in her mind.

“What if it was all a ploy?” Stryder said.

“What?”

“Yes,” Anson said, “why waste manpower when all it would take to make the women behave was the terror of hearing one of their own being tortured? What better way to keep the prisoners in line than to plant one of their own among them?”

Zoya’s head was spinning as Stryder took up the discussion. “Exactly. Tell me, did you actually see any proof that Sophia had been beaten? Raped? You were kept naked; did you see welts? Bruises? Blood?”

She winced at the visual he was creating and yet his fingers caressing her wrists, his calm tone, his very presence, allowed her not to panic. Thinking, replaying that day, she looked up and met his eyes. The answer shocked her when she spoke.

“No. All we heard were the screams. It was horrid but when they brought her back, she was wrapped in a blanket. Her cot was on the far wall.” She hesitated and then continued. “The rest of the cots were side by side, only a couple of feet between them. Except for Sophia’s. It wasn’t close to anyone else’s. She was crying and the guard was slapping that cane against his leg and yelling. But no, I never saw any evidence. We were all so scared, and yet I thought she was so brave.”

“Not brave,” Stryder said. “A clever plant.” He looked to his brother and then at the monitor. “You were both right. There were thirteen women in that room but only a dozen at the auction. Sophia likely just walked away.”

“So the bastard isn’t as smart as he likes to think,” Anson said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Poplov figures no one will even know about Sophia. At least no one who matters. She wasn’t at the auction, so none of the attendees ever saw her. But where he screwed up was in not knowing that one of his victims is a very accomplished artist.”

“You asked why you didn’t draw her portrait,” Stryder said. “That’s your answer. Your subconscious remembered that she wasn’t actually on the stage.”

“But I can’t believe it was all an act,” Zoya said. “God, first I believed Katarina to be a friend, and now Sophia? She stayed in that room with us. Listened to us cry. Knew how terrified we were. What sort of person can do that?”

“Either an evil one like Poplov, or someone willing to do anything to protect someone they love,” Stryder said.

“Can you draw her now?” Anson cut in. “If we can find her, we might be able to discover which one she is.”

“Yes,” Zoya said. “Where is my pad?”

“It’s getting late,” Drake said. “I told Hadi we’d send over everything we have and we can pick this up in the morning, but for now, I think we need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t,” Zoya said instantly. “I see her now. I need to draw.”

“Sorry, Pops, but I’ve gotta overrule you here. If we don’t let her draw, she’ll most likely be running. I’ve put in my miles already, so unless you want to be the one hoofing after her or…” Stryder turned back to her, “unless you plan on returning to the lake?”

Zoya blushed as her sex instantly spasmed but shook her head.

“Fine,” Drake said with a chuckle and a look that had Zoya wondering exactly how astute the patriarch of this family was. “Draw your picture, Zoya, but then you get to bed. You’ve gone through a lot today and need to rest. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, the older man’s tone eerily familiar sounding.

Stryder chuckled as he bent to kiss her cheek. “Where do you think we learned that tone?” he asked as if able to read her mind. “I’ll get the pad.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Maddox said, standing with Adira in his arms.

“I’m not ready to sleep,” Adira protested.

Maddox chuckled. “Who said anything about sleep? We are going to step across the hall. By the time I’m done with you, I’ll have you eating those words.”

“Ah, now that I am ready for,” Adira said, a smile lighting her entire face.

Stryder returned with the pad and charcoal pencil, placing them on the table where she’d worked earlier. Zoya walked towards him as Maddox carried Adira out the door. Sliding into the chair Stryder pulled out for her, she looked up at him.

“I know I told your father I’d go to bed after this, but maybe Maddox has the right idea.” Picking up the pencil and flipping open the cover of the tablet, she said, “You promised that a nice workout would relieve the tension in my shoulders, remember? I don’t think they’d mind if we joined them in the gym when I’m done.”

His eyes seemed to be smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching, his eyebrow quirking as he bent close. “What I seem to remember is promising to make you pay for forcing me to run. And,” his eyes cut to the door again, “my dear, if I know my brother, and I do, he is not talking about a workout. At least not one taking place in the gym.”

“What do you mean, and don’t tell me ignorance is bliss.”

This time his smile was large enough to cause the dimple in his cheek to be revealed. Tapping his finger against the blank sheet, he said, “Finish the portrait for Anson and then we’ll talk.”

“About what?” she asked, her tummy flipping at the look in his eyes and what seemed like a promise in his voice.

“Let’s just leave it at bliss, shall we?”

That was enough to have her swallowing hard and her fingers gripping the charcoal pencil tighter as she began to stroke it across the page. As much as she wanted to discover what he meant, the moment she began to draw, as Sophia’s face began to emerge, everyone else disappeared. She’d promised to help… anything else would have to wait.

Once she was done, she stood and moved to the monitors where Anson and Stryder were working. Handing the pad to Anson, she then looked at the screen to see that Anson had changed the display. The screen was now split into two sections. The top section held each woman’s photo next to that of a man’s… the one who had purchased her. The bottom section held only one photo, hers under the heading, “Safe.” Her heart clenched at knowing she was the only woman not still living in terror.

Forcing herself to again look at the top section, she saw that Natalia and Montez were the first pair. Her eyes continued to drop further to find Anya and…

“This is wrong,” she said, leaning forward and pointing.”

“Are you sure?” Stryder asked. “You were already off the stage when Anya was—”

“Sold?” Zoya said bluntly. “I know but I was there when Poplov started the entertainment. Anya wasn’t purchased by this man.” Her finger slid down the monitor and then tapped against another man’s face. “This man bought her.”

Anson leaned closer. “They do bear a similarity to each other, but how can you be so sure?”

“Because of the tattoo on his wrist. I saw it when he had his hand behind Anya’s head, holding her while she… while he fucked her mouth. This is the man who has her.”

Without a word, Anson manipulated the mouse, moving the correct picture into place. “Anything else seem wrong?”

Zoya took her time, and then shook her head. “Only that there is only one photo below the safe line.”

“Then I’ll send the array over to Hadi. We’ll regroup tomorrow.” Anson placed his hand on Zoya’s arm. “Thank you. I know this was hard, but it’s vital we have it correct. You helped us do that and we are going to do our very best to move every woman’s photo below the line.”

Stryder stood and, like Maddox before him, scooped his save into his arms.

“I’m a little tired,” she admitted, the stress just now threatening to strip every ounce of energy from her.

“That’s fine, as I’m putting you to bed,” Stryder said.

Zoya laid her head against his chest, and it took her a moment to see the door that was across the hall as Stryder paused to tell his brother that he’d done a great job. Once he stepped over the threshold, she pointed towards the door.

“Is that the gym?”

“No.”

She saw the keypad, snatches of conversations returning despite her fatigue. “Is that your dungeon?”

His stride had been long but with her question, he paused. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she met his eyes. “So that’s the secret Adira was talking about.”

“Adira told you about the playroom?”

“Well, not really. She said she had been sworn to secrecy but when Maddox mentioned the room across the hall, and you said they weren’t going to the gym, and… um, I sort of heard part of the conversation you and Anson had in the truck, and you talked about bliss…” Seeing his brow lift, she felt a delicious shiver run over her and asked the question she suddenly had to have answered. “Will you show me sometime?”

When he didn’t answer, just started walking again, she wondered if she’d gone too far. He hadn’t seemed to mind when she’d teased him earlier but she was getting the distinct impression that he wouldn’t find any jokes or flippant remarks about his dungeon, or playroom, amusing. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Then why did he sound so far away even though she was as close to him as possible? “I meant that it wasn’t my intention to upset you or make light of something that is obviously very important to you.”

He still remained silent as they’d stepped back into the office and he was striding towards her room. Once inside, he kicked the door closed and carried her to the bed, not dropping her onto the surface but sitting on it, holding her on his lap. “You didn’t upset me, Zoya. You just surprised me. Yes, it’s a special room. A dungeon when needed, a playroom most of the time.”

She could feel her heart speed up with his words and with his touch as he cupped her face between his palms. “You asked if I’d show it to you and the answer is that I’d love to, that I would enjoy showing you every piece of equipment, introduce you to every implement. It’s not a place where you go without understanding… make that without an understanding between two people what happens once the door closes. It’s not for the faint of heart. If we enter together, you will obey every order given with the knowledge that I would never harm you. Give you pain as well as pleasure, definitely, but harm you, never.”

While she didn’t fully understand everything he’d said, it didn’t matter. She understood enough to know that she trusted him and if it meant that he would teach her, claim her, she knew her answer. “Take me there.”

Deep brown eyes held hers and he nodded. “I will, but not tonight.”

“Because Maddox—”

“That’s part of it, but mostly because you are tired and I have other plans.” With that, he slid her off his lap and reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head. It took only moments to remove her underwear and a few more to shed his clothes. Settling on the bed again, he grinned and drew her over his lap, patting her bottom.

“It’s time to show you that I am a man of my word. I promised to show you what happens to little girls who force me to run.”

She tensed for only an instant when his palm lifted but when it descended, the sting of the stroke was instantly rubbed away with a gentle caress. Smiling, she laid her cheek onto her folded hands and closed her eyes. By the tenth swat, her legs had opened to allow his hand access, fingers stroking against her core, warming her in yet another way. Her moans filled the room as her hips began to move, to lift to meet each blow only to lower to press against his other hand. Pain followed by pleasure… both sensations incredibly erotic, completely satisfying. When she climaxed, it seemed to last forever, his slaps and strokes continuing until she felt as limp as a noodle.

He moved her, positioning her beneath him. His lips found hers as he slid inside and she moaned again at the rightness of it all. Stryder made love to her gently, slowly, kissing her mouth, her throat, her breasts. Her legs wrapped around him, her hands gripping his ass, pulling him closer until he too moaned, coming with her as they found the bliss he’d talked about. When he moved her again, spooning against her back, his arm around her waist, holding her close, he said, “Sleep, Zoya.” And as she was learning she craved to do, she obeyed.