Dewy lips, smoky eyes, harsh cheekbones, and perfect glowing skin, even my breasts had been amplified—a lash of bronzer down my cleavage to highlight their fullness.

But it was the dress that turned me from normal to extraordinary.

A gown I’d found in the wardrobe, tucked in a zipped bag in the shadows.

Champagne glitter and fawn crystal.

Straps kissed my shoulders, breaking into a V down my chest to swoop low between my breasts. Intricate panels of jewels hugged my belly and hips, before hanging heavy and full of glamour to the floor. It moulded to me like a second skin, granting the illusion that my own flesh had been inlaid with caramel gemstones and flawless diamonds.

I’d never worn something so glitzy, nor felt quite so unlike myself.

Nine fifty a.m.

Ten minutes before I would come face to face with Sullivan Sinclair.

Ten minutes before I strode into battle wearing an amour destined to break thy enemy.

This dress wasn’t for Roy Slater.

This masquerade wasn’t for Sully Sinclair.

The glowing goddess who stared back in the mirror was for me.

My parting gift to men who thought I could be demeaned with a price tag.

If Roy wanted to buy me and Sully wanted to sell me…then so be it.

But I would make both men see just how much I was worth.

I would make them understand that money was worthless.

That I was priceless.

That this whole sick charade was over.

Chapter Thirty-Three

NINE FIFTY-NINE A.M.

She’s late—

Calvin’s grunt ripped my head up from studying my watch. Roy Slater practically fell off my couch. And I—

I fucking ripped out my pumping, spurting heart and laid it bloody and warm at the feet of the most stunning creature I’d ever seen.

My body malfunctioned.

My cock hardened to stone; my pulse went haywire; my eyes couldn’t drink her in fast enough.

Fucking

wow…

Eleanor strode from my garden, past the mermaid fountain and bird table where local sparrows ate their fill, and padded barefoot into my office. Her dress trailed after her, gracing a trail of golden sand as if she’d been summoned from the very sea I idolized.

Skittles sat on her shoulder, making Eleanor more than woman but a nymph who could talk to feathered and furred alike. The gauzy curtains swayed around her with a non-existent breeze, afraid to touch her, swirling like entities drunk on her power.

My fingers dug into my desk as I struggled to breathe. Her hair. Her eyes. Her body.

Fuck

me.

I wanted to snatch her, savage her. I wanted to rip her from the heavens and bring her firmly into my hell.

Every time she breathed, her body glittered in jewels, refracting around my villa, blinding me to anything else.

I couldn’t goddamn move.

I’d seen the by-product of men meeting my goddesses for the first time. Some lost their minds. Literally lost their fucking minds. They lost language ability, motor skills, and stood there as blank as if they’d been hypnotised by the most powerful witch.

I’d always pitied such fools, proud I’d never been so weak.

But now…now I was that motherfucking fool.

Who was I?

What was going on?

But most importantly, who the hell was she?

I wanted her more than I could breathe. I wanted her so much my stomach ached, and my chest burned, and my cock throbbed with agony.

I needed her to give me back my soul—to kiss words back into my mouth, to rake her hands through my hair and gift me back my mind. If she could give me back my manhood, then she could take my heart.

Fuck, she’d already taken it.

It was right there, slowly pumping and gasping on the floor by her flawless feet.

Calvin was the first of us to recover. “Jinx…good job. You’re on time.” He cleared his throat, his voice thick with desire.

My vision went red.

How dare he desire her? How dare he look at her? How dare anyone see just how fucking resplendent this woman was?

I shot from my seat, blinking back stars, unable to tear my gaze from the immortal queen who’d entered my office.

Her crown was no longer invisible. A diamond-frosted mirage that blended fantasy and fact, making me doubt if she’d always been royal. If she’d always been so, so far out of my reach.

Roy Slater stumbled toward her.

Skittles took off, zipping out the door.

I tore from my desk to intercept him, to stand between him and what was mine. Crossing my arms, I snarled, “Deal’s off.”

“What?” His face contorted. For a second, it looked as if he’d cry with desolation, but then rage painted his true colours. “We had an agreement!”

“An agreement I’m breaking.”

“You can’t do that.”

I leaned toward him, my fists curling tight. “You’re on my island, Slater. Watch your goddamn tongue.”

Eleanor’s presence itched me from behind. Her heat. Her power. Her proximity. Tiny lightning bolts shot under my black suit, finding the cave where my heart used to reside. I could barely stand upright. Could hardly function as a man. The longer I stood in front her and fought for my right to keep her, the more I slipped into an animal.

A male at the height of his musk, wanting to mate, ready to destroy any competition by whatever means necessary.

Calvin joined us, making our standoff a trio. “Sinclair, can I talk to you for a moment?”

No fucking way was I moving.

I glowered at my second in command. “We’ve said all we need to. Get the helicopter. Slater is leaving.”

“Not without her,” Slater snarled.

“Leave now, you go with your life. Try to argue and you’ll die.” I hadn’t meant to reveal my cold-blooded side. Hadn’t meant for my voice to show that it wasn’t an empty threat.

I knew what death tasted like.

I’d delivered it in my past.

Killing this man would not keep me up at night, but losing Eleanor…I’d never sleep again.

“You’d throw your life in jail just to back out on a deal?” Slater snapped. “You’d kill me, all for a girl you rent to others?”

My hand lashed out, finding his throat like a bullet with a laser sight.

I squeezed.

Hard.

Eleanor’s voice slipped over my shoulder, freezing all of us. “How much, Mr. Slater? How much did you offer to pay for me?”

I ripped my head around to look at her. She’d moved from behind me to beside me, her eyes narrowed on my fingers around my guest’s throat. She didn’t look at me. She acted as if I was inconsequential.

I’m not fucking inconsequential!

I squeezed harder, making it impossible for Slater to speak.

Calvin’s hand landed on mine. “Stop. Let’s talk about this.”

I don’t know why or how, but I released, uncurling my burning fingers from Slater’s throat and shaking out the urge to kill.

Slater turned his attention to Eleanor, his gaze turning liquid with lust. “One million. I offered him a million to take you home.”

If I had a gun, I would’ve shot him in the heart. I would’ve taken sadistic joy in watching his blood stain my tiles.

Pika flew in from the garden, searching out my shoulder. His little talons barely landed before he squawked and took off again, sensing the animosity in the room.