When Alex was dead, Seth had made it look like he’d hanged himself. More collateral damage. But Maceo needed to be sure Ori was safe, or Seth would never get to her again.
And that wasn’t acceptable. Ori was going to die, one way or another.
They had driven back to Seth’s in silence, Ori increasingly uncomfortable. You should have stayed in the city, stayed in public. Too late now.
At home, as Seth followed her in and shut the door behind them, it sounded to Ori like a prison cell. Why? Why was she feeling like this?
She turned to Seth. “Seth, I’m going to take a nap, okay?”
“Sure.” It was the expression in his eyes, amused, malicious. She’d never seen him like this before.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.”
It happened so quickly, but when it did, Ori felt like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. She had turned her head just as Seth had leaned in to kiss her cheek. Instead, his lips brushed hers, and she gasped, a torrent of memories crashing back. Seth’s head snapped back and their eyes locked. At that moment, he realized she knew.
This is how I show my love …
Ori couldn’t breathe. Seth. Friendly, steady, trustworthy Seth had been the one who had stabbed her, who had killed Viola and Netta and framed Alex.
And she was trapped here, alone, with the killer.
Maceo was beside himself. Seth. The police had jumped into action, working with their New York counterparts, and soon Maceo was in a police helicopter being flown back to Seth’s house. He tried again and again to call Ori’s cellphone, but there was no answer.
Please, please don’t let me be too late …
Ori, please … fight. Fight.
Ori darted for the door, panicked, but he was too quick, too strong for her. “Hush,” he said now, locking his arms around her. “Hush. This needn’t be scary, Ori, honestly, just resign yourself to it.”
Ori looked up at him, fear mixed with anger. “You stabbed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Seth smiled and kissed her; she spat in his face. He merely laughed, easily holding her with one massive arm while he tugged the tie from his neck and started to bind her hands behind her. “Because I wanted to, Orianthi. Look at you.” He tugged her in front of the mirror and stood behind her. “Look how beautiful you are.” He ripped her dress open and ran his hand over her belly, the livid scars from his knife still bright pink and healing. “Eleven. I liked the symmetry of that.” He put his mouth to her ear. “And soon, my darling, Ori, soon, number twelve, thirteen, fourteen …”
He was going to kill her. Ori almost laughed. Of course he’s going to kill you, you damn fool. Fight … you don’t get to win this one, Seth Cantor. Blindside him.
She turned in his arms and went into survival mode. She smiled up at him. “You don’t know me well enough yet, Seth. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me?”
Seth wasn’t so easily fooled. “Ori, I know you love Maceo; why else do you think I tried to kill you? I knew you’d never want me.”
She lowered her head but looked up through her eyelashes at him. “Like I said,” she said in a soft whisper, “you don’t know me as well as you should.”
She stood on her toes and nuzzled his nose briefly before brushing her lips against his. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, you’re right. This doesn’t have to be scary. It could be pleasurable …”
Please, please fall for it, please … Ori knew she would do anything to stay alive, even if it meant having sex with this monster; she’d done it before and survived, after all.
Seth, his expression blank, stared down at her, then cupped her breasts in his hands. “If you’re lying to me, Orianthi, I will gut you like a pig.”
“Try me,” she whispered. Seth gave a growl and tumbled her to the floor, tugging at her underwear. Ori slammed hard against the marble but felt the tie binding her hands give. Her still-healing abdominal muscles screamed with pain, but she played her part well, moaning sensually, kissing Seth. It wasn’t until she felt his cock nudge at her sex that she wanted to cry, but she shoved the pain away as he entered her and began to fuck her. Ori screamed her encouragement at him, and Seth seemed to respond, grinning nastily.
“I’m still going to kill you, pretty girl,” he grunted. Ori had no fear left, even at his words, his threats. She felt her hands free themselves as Seth came and she winced at the feeling of his semen shooting into her.
God, I’m sorry, Maceo, I’m so sorry …
At the moment of Seth’s orgasm, when he was at his most vulnerable, when his eyes were closed, Ori made her move. She whipped his tie around his throat and, kicking him out of her, she braced herself against his chest as she throttled him, using her body weight to tighten the cord. Seth struggled, roaring, and Ori didn’t know if she could hang on but her anger, her fear, her love for Maceo and the desire to live for him, made her strong. She pulled and pulled, using everything inside her until she felt him weaken. She didn’t let up, knowing he could be faking it, until his entire body went slack. She kept pulling even when he collapsed on top of her, his eyes bulging, his tongue protruding from his mouth.
Then, finally satisfied he was dead, Ori kicked him off of her and scrambled to pull her underwear on. Running through the house, she began to sob, not for herself but for everyone who had died because of that monster. Poor Alex … Viola … Netta …
“Ori!’
Maceo’s voice echoed through the empty house, and Ori stumbled towards the sound of his voice. “Maceo …”
“Ori!’
She could hear sirens now, so close to safety, so close to love. Then she heard Seth’s roar and knew—she hadn’t killed him, and now he was coming for her. She heard him storming after her, and when the first crossbow bolt hit the wall beside her, she faltered.
Don’t give up, don’t give up …
“Ori!” This time it was Seth roaring her name, his voice bruised and gravelly. Murderous. If she stalled for one second, she would be dead. She heard Maceo’s desperate shouts for her, and as she reached the front door finally and wrenched it open, she could see her lover running towards her, coming to save her, followed by shouting police officers.
A sudden searing, burning pain hit her right kidney, and she knew she’d been hit, but staggered out of the door, throwing herself down the stone steps into Maceo’s arms.
“He’s coming,” she managed to say to him, seeing the panic in his green eyes. Seconds later, Seth came raging from the building, dropping the crossbow and barreling into the couple. All three were sent sprawling to the gravel. Maceo shoved Ori away before he set upon Seth again.
Ori crawled away, groping around to her back and, giving a scream, wrenched the bolt from her flesh. She could feel sticky blood on her hands but ignored it. She heard shouting, more sirens, but all she could think of was getting to Maceo, helping to fight Seth, saving at least one of them.
Maceo was pounding on Seth, but the other man managed to flip him and plowed his fist into Maceo’s jaw. But Maceo was raging, his adrenaline flooding his system and he once again got the advantage, yelling in Italian, then in English. “Non sarai mai toccare di nuovo il suo. figlio di una cagna! You’ll never touch her again, you son of a bitch!’
Seth kicked him away and staggered to his feet, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the gun, leveling it at Maceo.
Maceo stared at his friend—the friend who was aiming the gun at his chest—and he shook his head. “So, this is the way it ends?”
His friend nodded. “This is the way it ends.”
There was a long silence, as if his friend couldn’t decide whether to pull the trigger or not. He decided to take the chance and ask the question he so desperately needed the answer to.
“Then why all this, old friend? I get framing Alex, but why kill Netta? Why did she have to die? Why stab Ori? She did nothing wrong except love me with her whole heart, and you butchered her.”
Seth smile
d. “You don’t get it, do you? She was dead the second you touched her. And now I’m going to kill both of you.”
And he pulled the trigger. Maceo threw himself to the floor as, behind Seth, a furious and desperate Ori tackled him. She leaped onto his back, as lithe as a monkey, and clawed at his face. Seth’s gun went skittering across the ground as Maceo launched an attack from the front. Seth threw Ori to the ground—hard—and Maceo yelled his anger, crashing into Seth with all of his strength.
As Seth fought back, Ori managed to stand up and stagger towards the two men. Seth had Maceo’s throat and was squeezing, his eyes bulging with the effort. Ori saw his fingers digging into Maceo’s windpipe. Maceo choked, and Ori gave a banshee yell and threw herself at Seth, raising the bloody crossbow bolt he had shot her with. She brought it down hard, not caring where it hit him as long as he released Maceo.
Maceo, freed, jerked away from Seth and then pulled a bloodied Ori away from him too. Seth’s limbs were jerking, spasming. Death throes. Ori had slammed the bolt through Seth’s eye into his brain. It was over.
Maceo wrapped his arms around her as the adrenaline left them both, and they held each other as the police arrived to help them. “You and me, bella,” Maceo whispered to her as she was loaded into the ambulance, “You and me forever now.”
And Ori smiled just once before she passed out.
Two years later …
Shiloh hoisted Lily onto her hip, ignoring the toddler’s whining, and went out into the garden. Benoit, tanned and smiling from a week in Monte Carlo, came to kiss her and relieve her of their child. Lily giggled as her father threw her into the air and caught her.
“Tell me all kids are like that,” said a heavily pregnant Kate as she moved her chair out of the Argentinian sun. Shiloh laughed.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what the little horror was really like.” She sat down with her friends and looked at her watch. “I hope Ori and Maceo won’t be too long; lunch is nearly ready.”
Lisander rolled his eyes. “You know what they’re like; probably stopped to have sex along the way. Even now, they’re rolling around in a field of pampas grass.”
They all laughed. “Good grief, what a pair of kids. About time they had themselves some kids.” Kate nodded sagely, but a grinning Shiloh poked her.
“You just want everyone to suffer along with you. I don’t blame you, I was the same.”
“She was; she almost broke my hand in the delivery room.” Benoit put his arm around his fiancée, who poked her tongue out at him.
“Mr. Duarte, I think your guests are here.” The maid smiled at him, and Lisander thanked her.
Ori and Maceo joined them, smiling, happy, holding hands. The friends greeted them. Then Kate, ever watchful, started to laugh.
“What is it?” Ori looked confused. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
Kate shook her head and reached to pluck something out of Ori’s hair. She held it up. “No, sweetheart. You just have some pampas grass in your hair …”
The End
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BILLIONAIRE GAMES PREVIEW
A Billionaire Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Novel
What began as a game ended up changing lives …
Three men enter a bar, seeking out pawns for their sex game.
Three women are chosen, who happen to be sisters and the bar owner’s daughters.
Ethan, Phoenix, and Griffin think they have it made with the sexy women they’ve chosen to play their little game with.
Only they have no idea that Kel, Cait, and Jess know what they’re up to and plan on playing games with them.
Passions flare, seduction is key, and sexual prowess is a must when playing to win.
Let the games begin …
Chapter 1
Even though rain was falling in sheets, the press still stood outside the Boston funeral home where the heiress to Captain Jack’s Seafood Company, thirty-year-old Julia Loveless, was resting peacefully for the first time in her short life.
One tryst too many had found the beautiful young woman the victim of a hit and run. No one was sure who had done the evil deed, but many speculated that the wife of Judge Sanborn, a man Julia had been seen about town with, might have had a hand in it.
The private car Griffin Houser had been picked up from the airport in coasted into the area where a canvas tent had been erected to see the mourners stay dry as they made their way into the large funeral home.
Griffin was a thirty-year-old billionaire from old money. His family’s cattle company in Montana had gone in a new direction that had sent them from merely millionaires and into the billionaires’ category.
Montana Matrix was a prize-winning bull sperm operation. Griffin was supposed to be a salesman for his family’s fertile business. He seldom sold a thing, preferring to wine and dine women who didn’t have a thing to do with the cattle industry.
Griffin didn’t have anything to worry about. His wealth was secure even if he never sold a single vial of the liquid that had catapulted his family into a new tax bracket.
Julia had been one of his clients. Tall, legs for days, with hair that changed color with each passing month, Julia was an heiress he had liked to have fun with on occasion when visiting the East Coast. Her passing was sad news, but he had known the day would come when her promiscuity would catch up to her. Her early demise was inevitable in his eyes.
Griffin made his way into the packed parlor where Julia’s body rested center stage, spotlight included. A platinum coffin, a spray of red roses covering the bottom portion, held her in cushioned comfort. Her hair was a shade of blonde that matched well with her surroundings. He could see she was wearing a red dress.
Even in death, still the naughty vixen.
When a grin flowed over his face, he shook his head to stop thinking such inappropriate thoughts on such a grim occasion. He took a seat next to a tall man with long black hair that was pulled back into a queue. A Native American, Griffin was sure.
Though the music was quietly playing a sad song meant to pull the tears out of those who had congregated, Griffin tried to ignore the song and extended his right hand to the man he sat next to.
“Hello. Griffin Houser, Montana Matrix.”
The man shook his hand. “Phoenix Nelson, Texas oil. How’re you doing today?”
“Sad, I suppose, is the right thing to say to that,” Griffin said, then chuckled a bit. His action had people shushing him and giving him terrible looks. “Sorry. Inappropriate.”
When he was met with a grin from the man sitting on the other side of Phoenix, he was not only surprised but glad to see another human in the room who wasn’t so distraught. When he held his hand out, Griffin took it. “Ethan Southern,” came the man’s words, which were heavily laced with a Scottish accent.
“Griffin …”
“Yeah, I heard ya,” Ethan interrupted as his attention turned to Phoenix. “How’d you know Julia?”
Phoenix cleared his throat as he looked down and a grin had found him too. “In the Biblical sense,” came his answer.
“Aye, me too,” Ethan said, then looked at Griffin.
Griffin nodded and looked down as a man in the front, wearing black, asked them to pray. A long prayer that had nothing to do with Julia was said by the preacher, then the rest of the funeral proceeded.
The three men fidgeted a bit as the service went on and on. Many people got up and told stories about the woman they had known as quite the she-wolf. The only thing was, none of the stories they told were anything any of those men knew about the woman who lay in the coffin.
Tales of how generous she was had the three men smiling with their secret thoughts. Griffin could attest to that. Julia had been generous, all right. He didn’t know if she’d been generous with her money, but with her body … oh yes, she had been incredibly generous with that!
When the last spea
ker spoke about how Julia had given to charities all the time, the service ended, and it was time to file past the coffin and the lifeless body. Griffin stood in line, followed by Phoenix, then Ethan. One by one, the people looked down at Julia as they waited for their turn to lay eyes on her one last time.
The three stopped and took their turns at the same time. “Lifelike, huh?” Griffin asked the other two men.
“Her hair was red when I was with her,” Ethan muttered.
“It was pink when I saw her,” Phoenix recalled. “And she’d worn purple contacts. She was something else.”
Griffin ran his hand over her cheek, lightly. “Bye, Julia. Thanks for the education. You will be missed.”
“That she will,” Ethan agreed.
Phoenix nodded, then the sound of a man clearing his throat had them shuffling along. A man in a cheap blue suit was near the door where everyone was exiting; he held out a box of tissues to the three. Each took one.
“I don’t need this for anything more than to remind me of her,” Griffin said.
“I have a napkin from a bar we’d meet at,” Phoenix said as they walked outside.
They all looked up at the brilliant blue, cloudless sky. “It stopped rainin’. Can you imagine that?” Ethan said in wonder.
“She doesn’t want anyone to feel blue. She never did,” Griffin said. “And on that note, how about the three of us go get some lunch? We can talk about her and what she meant to each one of us.”
“Count me in,” Phoenix agreed quickly. “I don’t know another soul here anyway. The company would be much appreciated.”
“Me too,” Ethan chimed in. “I could use a stiff drink.”
Griffin led them to his waiting private car, and they all piled inside. “How about seafood?” When Griffin got two nods, he called out to the driver, “Neptune Oyster, please, driver.”
The Midnight Club Page 26