Sinful Illusions

by Morgan James

  One eyebrow arched upward. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you? You were sneaking around my yard. I want to know why.”

  Against my better judgment, my smart mouth moved before I could stop it. “Because I hate who you are and the things you’ve done.”

  “The things I’ve done.” He repeated my words back to me, low and smooth. His gaze slid over me slowly from head to toe, then back up again. The sensation sent goosebumps down my arms and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Those dark eyes bore into mine. “That’s quite a long list. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  I knew I was in way over my head, but I refused to back down now. “My father will find out where I am. He’ll come for me.”

  “Will he?” The infuriating man quirked a condescending smirk as he pushed off the door and took a step forward, closing the distance between us.

  He loomed over me, making the room feel crowded, as if the walls had begun to close in around me. I forced my trembling muscles to still. “Yes,” I snapped. “He will.”

  My father had already lost one daughter; he wasn’t going to lose another. Growing up, I’d always been the impulsive, headstrong daughter. Daddy had admonished me for it more than once, telling me that it would get me in trouble one day. I didn’t seek out trouble, but neither had I turned away from something I felt was wrong. I stood up for those in need, those who needed help. It was part of the reason I’d decided to pursue a career in criminal justice. Against my parents’ wishes, I wanted to help people. I wanted to apprehend the guilty, put them away where they could never hurt anyone again.

  Fox must have seen the determined look in my eyes, because he gave a tiny dip of his chin. “We shall see. Until then, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll have food delivered.”

  “You’re just wasting your time,” I warned. “I won’t eat it.” I wouldn’t touch anything he offered me, even if I were starving to death. I didn’t trust this man at all.

  “Shame.” His impossibly dark gaze swept over mine once more.

  Propelled by fury at his utter lack of concern, my body seemed to move of its own volition. I slashed upward with my hand, aiming for his nose. One step ahead of me, he wrapped one huge hand around my wrist to deflect the blow. I brought my knee upward but he twisted his hips away, and my knee glanced off his thigh.

  Before I could blink, he whipped me around, yanking my arm behind me so I was completely at his mercy pinned up against the cold steel door. Warm breath washed over my cheek as he spoke. “This is your one warning, little one. Do not push me.”

  With that, he released me, and I immediately retreated to the opposite side of the room, putting as much distance between us as possible. He was bigger, stronger, faster. I didn’t stand a chance against him physically.

  He straightened his suit jacket, studying me as he did so. “Do we have an understanding?”

  I wrapped my arms around my waist and dipped my head. The only understanding was that I would never bow to his wishes, whatever they might be. Men like Fox negotiated in terms of money, and that was one thing my family had. Fox would ransom me, and Daddy would pay whatever he had to in order to bring me home. I just had to bide my time and wait for that to happen.

  From beneath my lowered lashes, I watched the corners of Fox’s lips twitch in a semblance of mirth. “Enjoy your dinner. You’ll want to keep up your strength.”

  With that last little taunting threat hanging in the air, Fox was gone. I had no idea how he opened the door, only that it slid to the side, allowing him to slip through before it closed behind him again.

  Releasing a huge breath, I sank against the wall behind me and tried to calm my racing heart. The air still crackled with tension even though he’d departed the room, as if his presence still lingered, watching over me. Determination firmed my spine. Well, he could watch all he wanted. I refused to bend to his will, no matter what. I would stay strong and wait for my family to come for me. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Chapter Four

  Fox

  I watched the camera, and an irrational sense of anger washed over me. On the blurry black and white screen, the young woman sat on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked small and vulnerable, dejected. I didn’t know why it pissed me off so much. This was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to push her until she broke, until I pulled every detail from her. I still didn’t even know who the hell she was, let alone why she had been skulking around my yard in the middle of the night.

  She’d asked about her sister—another woman whose identity I still hadn’t determined. Was she pissed over an affair? I couldn’t imagine, unless her sister’s relationship had been ruined. I stayed the hell away from married women despite the fact that they threw themselves at me, too. They were some of the worst. Always up for a discreet, quick fuck while their husbands were away or too busy to pay attention to them. In my line of work, fucking the wrong woman was tantamount to suicide. I wasn’t going to ruin my business relationships for a piece of pussy.

  It was hard to find a woman to fuck as it was. I couldn’t handle the skin-to-skin contact like a normal person. Each time I touched a woman, visions overwhelmed me, making it hard to concentrate. I saw whatever was deep in their heart, visions of both the past and present. Sometimes useful, other times not.

  A reminder tickled at the back of my brain, something I hadn’t been able to forget over the past few days since the woman had arrived at my house. When I touched her, I hadn’t gotten the slightest glimpse inside her. No vision, no intuition of her character… Nothing. Could be that she was unconscious when I’d tried to read her, but I seriously doubted it. I’d never not been able to read someone, and I fucking hated feeling at a disadvantage with her. I needed to figure out who the hell she was and why she was here. I needed to get in there, get close to her again, see if I could get anything from her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to make it easy.

  She’d been ensconced in the panic room for four days, yet she hadn’t touched a single morsel of food. Each tray I dropped off in the morning remained untouched when I entered and retrieved it each night. The only thing she had done was drink minimal amounts of water, and then, only from the small sink in the corner of the room. It seemed she trusted me as much as I trusted her… Not at all.

  Three quick taps came on my office door, identifying my visitor before she even stepped foot inside. “Come in.”

  Tall and willowy with beautiful classic features and dark brown hair always pinned into place, my assistant, Miranda, commanded the space as she opened the door and strode into my office.

  I threw a surprised look her way. “What are you doing here?” I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Miranda outside of the club. She rarely stopped by my house, and the fact that she’d done so didn’t bode well. “Is something wrong?”

  Lounged against the doorjamb, she lifted a shoulder. “Thought I’d stop by and see how your situation was progressing.”

  “It’s fucking not.” I waved her in. “How’s everything going at the club?”

  “Same shit, different day.” She crossed the room and paused in front of my desk. “Has she said anything?”

  As the manager of my club, Noir, I trusted Miranda implicitly. Incredibly skilled with computers, Miranda vetted each of my patrons personally, determining whether to authorize admission or not. In addition to Noir, she handled the bookings for my underground games that happened on Saturday and Sunday nights.

  Miranda was the soul of discretion, and my right hand. She hadn’t hesitated to throw herself into the project when I’d asked her to help me. My eyes darted back to the screen, but not surprisingly, the woman hadn’t moved. “Not yet.”

  “I think I may have her identity.” She stepped forward and extended a manila folder across the desk to me before making her way to the sideboard.

  I flipped it open, and a driver’s license photo of the beautiful woman in the room next-door stared back at me. My eyes drifted lo
wer to her name. Evangelina Maria Jennings. Familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I kept reading, absorbing every detail of the young woman I’d taken captive.

  “She’s pretty,” Miranda commented as she poured herself a drink then crossed to the couch.

  “Hmm…” I hummed a noncommittal sound. She was gorgeous; it was one of the first things I’d noticed about her. All that long golden hair and pretty, misty green eyes. She looked like an angel—appropriate, given her name.

  Born and raised in Chicago, Evangelina had attended private school until she’d graduated six years ago. She was now studying criminal justice at a local college. Something clicked in my brain, and I flicked back a page to double check I’d read it correctly. Her current address didn’t match the one on her driver’s license. I assumed that meant she had either moved recently or lived locally, though not with her parents. Interesting.

  I turned to the page containing her family’s information, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the mother’s last name. Lillian Rhodes, mayor elect for our great city. Her father was William Jennings, one of the assholes who’d gotten in too deep in my gambling rings, borrowed too much.

  Just to make sure, I continued reading. Sure enough, continued in the familial connections was the name I was looking for: Elenora Masterson. Elle had been the wife of slimy senator Spencer Masterson—and Eva’s sister.

  William Jennings was a weak little worm of a man who was just as bad at business as he was gambling. He’d gained influence through his wealthy in-laws, but his poor investments had cost him dearly. He’d lost a good sum of money over the past two years and had turned to gambling in my club in the hopes of overturning his financial ruin. It hadn’t worked. He’d borrowed from me and lost, and I was still waiting to collect my debt.

  But as much as I despised William, I hated Spencer Masterson more. Groomed to be a politician from the day he was born, he was entitled and arrogant, with an addictive personality to match. He abused every substance known to mankind, and I’d had him—as well as William—banned from my clubs as well as my games. A co-ed had charged Masterson with rape back in college, but his familial influences had gotten him off the hook. He hadn’t been so lucky with me.

  Now I knew—in part, at least—why Evangelina was here. The question was, had she shown up of her own accord, or had someone convinced her to approach me? William was stupid, but Spencer was conniving. Would one or both of them knowingly send her into the lion’s den? It was always a possibility. Men like that were concerned only with themselves. Perhaps they thought I’d take it easy on her since she was a woman. If that was the case, they were bound to be disappointed.

  I could feel Miranda’s eyes on me, and I lifted my gaze. “I assume you verified this?” The look she threw my way could’ve frozen lava in place, and I chuckled. “Have to ask.”

  “Triple checked,” she responded, leaning forward to set her glass on the table. “She’s currently enrolled in one of the local colleges and resides with a roommate, Rose Winthrop.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Why do you think she’s here?”

  I lifted my gaze to Miranda’s worried gaze. “Revenge.”

  She lifted a brow. “Does she have a death wish?”

  I let out a half-laugh as I gestured toward the screen. “Doesn’t look like she gives a fuck about anything.”

  Most women would have begged. Screamed. Pleaded. But not Evangelina. She’d uttered not a single word since our first encounter, had barely even moved. She was as stubborn as they came, and I respected it as much as I loathed it.

  “What are you going to do?”

  At Miranda’s question, I stroked my thumb over my chin and dropped my gaze back to the paper in my hand. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  There was no way I was ever going to tell Evangelina about her sister. “I’ll take care of it,” I finally said, gesturing to the file. “Please forward her name on to Dr. Marlowe and have him pull her medical records.”

  “Done.”

  She pushed to her feet. “Anything else?”

  I hesitated for a brief moment, debating what I was about to do. “Are you up for some shopping?”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Put it on the company card, and get yourself something.”

  She dipped her head. “Thank you.”

  I knew I didn’t have to tell her to keep this to herself; Miranda wouldn’t breathe a word.

  “Don’t forget—” Miranda stop just in front of the door. “We’ve got a couple of whales tonight who will want to see you.”

  Right. I’d been so preoccupied that I’d almost forgotten. My high rollers deserved one-on-one attention. They spent a good deal of money, sometimes dropping upwards of a hundred grand a night at my games. “Make sure they’re comfortable until I get there.”

  “Will do.”

  Miranda left the room, and my eyes moved back to the computer screen, to the woman who lay curled up in a ball on the thin mattress. I needed to decide what to do with her, and quick.

  Chapter Five

  Eva

  I stared at the white wall across from me, my mind curiously blank. It seemed like that was all I did these days. Time no longer had any meaning. With no windows to give me any kind of indication whether it was day or night, it was impossible to tell exactly how long I’d been here. Fox hand-delivered trays of fresh several hours apart at what I assumed was morning and evening, but I couldn’t be sure. I had touched none of them, except a tiny piece of bread when I could stand it no longer. My stomach ached from starvation, but pride refused to allow me to give in.

  The lights overhead stayed on all the time. It was both reassuring and daunting. It meant that I could see Fox anytime he entered, yet it also meant that I was constantly on guard. For that reason, I drank as little as possible. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I was terrified that Fox would catch me on the toilet. I felt like I was barely hanging on by a thread.

  I was certain that a good number of days had passed, but I hadn’t heard a single word about being released. Each interaction with Fox so far had been utterly silent. He would enter the room, glance at the tray of uneaten food sitting on the table in the corner, send a glare my way, then drop off the new tray as he took the old one. Each time he entered, he looked increasingly agitated. I found a sort of grim satisfaction in that. If nothing else, it at least meant I was getting some sort of reaction from him. I still refused to trust him. I didn’t think he would poison me if he was going so far as to keep me locked away to ransom back to my family, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I jumped as the door swung open, and Fox’s large, dark form filled the space. Pushing awkwardly to a sitting position, I scrambled backward until my back was pressed to the wall. He had dropped off a tray for me not long ago, and judging from my body’s internal clock, he shouldn’t be back to deliver another until several hours from now. My heart skipped in my chest. Was he finally releasing me? I stared up at him filled with a mixture of excitement and fear.

  Fox stepped inside and closed the door behind him, then leaned against it. For a long moment, he just watched me. I didn’t dare say a word. A long minute later, he pushed off the door and crossed the room. I watched warily as he moved to the table, inspecting the tray of food he’d left for me earlier. He let out a soft sound and gave a little shake of his head as he turned and pinned me with his dark eyes.

  “Still not eating, I see.” He ventured closer, and I shifted away from him, curling my arms around my legs protectively as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

  My pulse kicked up as I watched him. Never before had he expressed any interest in me other than to bring me food. What had brought him here now? Fox wasn’t a good man; he didn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart. No, there had to be another reason he was keeping me alive. Hopefully it wouldn’t be much longer now until my family managed to track me down and bring me home. I had to have hope that it would happen; otherwise, I had
nothing.

  “Are you ready to be amenable yet?”

  I eyed him, wondering just what the hell that meant.

  At my silence, his face hardened a bit. “Care to explain what you were doing sneaking around my property?”

  I seriously doubted he’d like the answer to that question, either. I bit down on my tongue to keep from spilling the truth under his intense scrutiny, and his lips pressed into a firm line of displeasure.

  “It will only be worse if you don’t speak.”

  His dark eyes glinted with the promise of retribution, and fear propelled me to tell him something. I decided that, with a man like Fox, it was best to go with the truth—or, at least, some variation of it. “I wanted to hurt you, to take something from you.”

  “You weren’t planning to kill me?”

  That would have been a futile effort anyway. I gave a tiny shake of my head, and he tipped his own dark-haired head to one side. “Why not?”

  “I never would have made it to you,” I admitted. “Your guards would have been on me before I even got close to you—or you would’ve killed me yourself.”

  He appraised me for a few seconds. “Not stupid, then. Just stubborn.”

  I stiffened at the implication.

  “The doctor will be here in a moment.” He must have noticed the surprised look on my face, because he continued. “I keep Dr. Marlowe on my payroll, so he’s well accustomed to… situations like this.”

  Like keeping someone hostage, he meant. I swallowed down the bitter bile that had risen in my throat. “Then why bring him in at all?”

  “Your stitches need to be removed. I’m sure you would prefer I not cut into your scalp.”

  “Definitely not.”