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Sinful Illusions

Page 11

by Morgan James


  She nodded but didn’t say a word, and I gently lifted the fabric up, exposing her back. She sucked in a breath as the fabric caressed the wounds lashed into her skin, and the sight of them turned the edges of my vision red with rage. I counted six deep slices from her shoulder blades down to the small of her back. I gently lowered her shirt back into place. “Do you want to press charges?”

  Deep brown eyes met mine, wide with worry, and she shook her head. “I just… I just want to make sure he doesn’t do this to another woman.”

  Part of me was disappointed that she had chosen not to file charges for assault. Regardless of the fact that this was a sex club, the marks he’d inflicted on her had been deliberate. “Rest assured,” I said as I returned to my seat, “Mr. O’Brien will no longer be welcome in my club.”

  She dipped her chin. “Thank you.”

  “However,” I continued, “you need to have those wounds taken care of. I assume you’ve not been to a hospital yet?”

  The wry look she sent me needed no explanation. “Do we have your home address in the system?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I gave a brief nod. “I’ll send a doctor to your place this evening if that works for you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, that’s not—”

  I held up a hand. “Everything that happens in this club is my responsibility,” I stated. “What time works best for you?”

  Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall before meeting mine again. “Eight o’clock?”

  I turned to Xavier. “Call Dr. Marlowe, please, and see if he is available to meet Ms. Stanhope at eight o’clock.” I turned to her once more. “We’ll confirm the appointment within the next ten minutes. Is there anything else?”

  “No, sir. I… Thank you.”

  I forced a smile to my lips. “You’re welcome.”

  Xavier escorted her from the office, and I sank into my chair, running my hands over my face. Sometimes I truly hated people. I threw myself into my work, and nearly three hours later, my phone rang.

  “O’Brien is here. Would you like me to show him to your office?”

  “Yes. Bring him here immediately,” I responded. I had just printed off the paperwork for his termination when the door opened and Xavier stepped in, followed by a shorter man.

  The man’s beady eyes landed on me, and a false smile curled his lips. “Good afternoon, sir.”

  “Please, have a seat,” I said smoothly. I was tempted to let him continue, to give him enough rope to hang himself, but I had no patience for small talk at the moment.

  He did as I asked, all the while eyeing me curiously. “What can I do for you?”

  “It has come to my attention that you’ve been particularly rough during some of your scenes.”

  “But—”

  “Let me finish,” I cut him off. He fell back into his seat, a mulish expression on his face. “From what I understand, you have blatantly disregarded your sub’s hard limits and ignored the use of safe words.”

  His mouth opened to defend himself, but I spoke over him. “That kind of behavior is not tolerated in my club.” I spun the paper around so that it was facing him. The understanding flickered in his eyes as his gaze landed on the termination paperwork, and his cheeks flushed an angry red.

  He slapped one hand on the desk as he launched himself forward. “It was that bitch Narissa, wasn’t it? That stupid slut doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about. If she had just shut up and followed directions the way I told her to, she wouldn’t have needed to be punished.”

  Typical abuser, I thought with fury. Never accepting any accountability for their own actions, they projected their shortcomings onto their victims. My gaze dropped to his right hand, still planted on my desk. Before he could think to pull it away, I snatched up the heavy paperweight on the edge of my desk and smashed it against his fingers. He let out a feral howl of pain and ripped himself from my grasp, cradling his broken hand to his chest.

  Impassively, I extended a pen to him. A scowl twisted his lips. “You broke my fucking fingers! How the hell am I supposed to sign your damn paper now?”

  “I’ll accept the signature in blood as well,” I said coolly. “Sign the fucking termination agreement.”

  With another glare at me, he took the pen in his left hand and hastily scribbled his name on the line. I nodded and swiped it off the desk with a nod to Xavier. “Please escort Mr. O’Brien from the premises.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  O’Brien yanked his arm away when Xavier reached for him. “Get your hands off me or I’ll sue you!”

  I laughed out loud. “Talk back to my men like that one more time and you’ll be leaving here in someone’s trunk.”

  The man threw one last disgruntled look over his shoulder before exiting the room, and I exhaled slowly through my nose. I was still antsy, on edge. I needed to either kill or fuck. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared at the moment to do either. Watching the scenes here at Noir would only exacerbate my need, leaving me more unsatisfied than I already was.

  Damn Eva for doing this to me. Letting out a growl of frustration, I prepared to head home—and another night of jerking off in the shower, Eva’s image dancing before my eyes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eva

  I stared out the window, gazing out over the backyard. Cheery sunlight spilled in through the glass, a direct contradiction to my dismal mood. Shadows from the window panes fell over the plush carpet, over me, painting me in a gilded cage. They may as well have been bars in a cell. I would never be free as long as I remained here. One of these days I swore I would escape—even if it was the last thing I did.

  The soft tread of shoes against carpet drew my attention. There was something about the way Fox carried himself, so steady and sure, that there was no mistaking him. I stiffened as his voice drifted over my shoulder.

  “Thinking of running again?”

  A cold chill washed over my skin. It was like he could read my mind. Pressing my lips into a firm line, I wiped all emotion from my face so he couldn’t read my hate in the reflection. “Why bother? Your thugs would just bring me back anyway.”

  A chuckle met my waspish remark, and I tossed a look over my shoulder at him. “Oh, no, angel. If anyone is to have the pleasure of dragging you back here and putting you in your place, it will be me.”

  “Lovely,” I muttered, turning back to the window. “Something to look forward to.”

  Studying his reflection, I watched Fox stride to the table along the wall. Pulling down a small tumbler, he picked up a decanter of amber liquid and sloshed it into the glass. I turned, lifting an eyebrow as I met his dark gaze. “Starting early?” I taunted.

  “I find myself drinking more now that you’re here,” he retorted.

  For some unexplainable reason, his words stung more than they should have. “You could do us both a favor and just let me go. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of liver failure.”

  “Now what would the fun be in that?” His lips tipped up in an infuriating smirk.

  I tore my gaze away, unable to look at him for more than a few seconds at a time. I could still recall the taste of him, the way his hands felt as they glided over my skin. Heat raced through me, climbing up my neck into my cheeks. I was tempted to lean into the window, to absorb the delicious coolness from the glass.

  For the past four days, we’d been able to mostly avoid each other. I assumed Fox had been working more than usual, because he hadn’t insisted on any more awkward dinners. I was grateful for the reprieve. I still hadn’t come to terms with my emotions from the other night, and I wanted to keep as much distance between us as possible.

  “You need to eat more.”

  I whirled toward him. “What difference does it make to you?”

  Another almost-smile teased the corners of his mouth. “You need to keep your strength up so you can continue to fight me.”

  I glared at him, trying to decipher the statement. As long
as I lived, I would never understand the man. He’d killed my sister, held me captive, yet acted as though he cared for my well-being. “What the hell do you want?”

  Any hint of mirth dropped from his face, and his eyes turned cold again. I regretted the words the moment I said them, but I couldn’t afford to let myself feel anything for him, not even affability.

  “I thought you might want to speak with someone, let them know you’re okay.”

  I glanced at the black cell phone he held in his hand. My eyes darted back up to his. “You would let me speak to my family?”

  “Not your family, no,” he said, dashing my hopes. “However, I thought you would enjoy speaking with a friend.”

  “My roommate is probably wondering where I am, worried sick.”

  “Call her.” He extended the phone to me, and I eyed him warily.

  My teeth dug into my lower lip. Was this a trick? If I called Rose, was there any way I could let her know where I was so she could relay it to my parents? I racked my brain, trying to think of how I could drop a hint without Fox knowing.

  He seemed to read my mind. “I will be right here the whole time, so don’t try anything stupid.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I snatched the phone from his hand.

  “Do you know her number?” One eyebrow ratcheted toward his hairline.

  “Yes,” I snapped. “I’ve always had a penchant for memorizing phone numbers. Those and license plates.”

  His head tipped slightly to one side as he inspected me. “That’s an interesting talent to have.”

  I shrugged but didn’t say a word as I stared at the blank screen of the phone. “What’s the catch?” I asked, meeting his eyes again. “If I do this, what do you expect from me?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “I thought it might set you at ease to speak with a friend.”

  I nodded slowly. Silence fell for a long moment, then I started to dial. Rose’s voice, full of curiosity, crackled through the line. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Rose, it’s me. Eva.”

  “Oh, my God! How are you? Where are you? Is everything okay?”

  I let out a little laugh, turning away from Fox so he wouldn’t see the tears gathering in my eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “I’m fine. What about you?”

  I meandered over to the plush sofa and curled into the corner as Rose began to speak. “Hectic as usual, you know how it is. But what about you? What have you been into?”

  “Just… Hanging out. Nothing much,” I responded.

  Her voice was full of concern. “We were told you dropped out.”

  “I did… Yeah. I was just a little overwhelmed with everything this year and needed a break.”

  After everything that happened with my sister, it was partially the truth. I wondered who had told her that I’d dropped out though. It must’ve been the story that Fox had spun.

  “They packed up your things a couple weeks ago,” Rose continued, “but I found a couple shirts of yours in my closet.”

  “You can keep them,” I replied. What did it matter anyway? For the foreseeable future, I was stuck here at Fox’s mercy. Rose and I spoke for a few more minutes before I assured her once more that everything was fine.

  “We’ll have to meet up one of these days,” Rose said.

  A sad smile curved my lips. I knew it would never happen. “Sure. Sounds good.”

  We exchanged goodbyes, then hung up. Without meeting his gaze, I handed the phone back to Fox.

  “Your plan must be working,” I said, my tone dulled by misery. “Everyone bought the story that I dropped out. So now they just think I’m lazy.”

  He slipped the phone into his back pocket. “Better than the truth, angel.”

  I pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them as I turned my head away. My stomach felt tied up in knots, and I couldn’t bear to look at him.

  Finally, he broke the tense silence. “I won’t be back until late. If you skip dinner again, I’ll know about it.”

  I didn’t bother to respond, and a few long seconds later, his feet carried him toward the door and out of the room. I dropped my forehead to my knees as despair washed over me. No one was coming for me. I was well and truly alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fox

  Across the table from me Matteo stood, signaling that our meeting had come to an end. I stood and buttoned my jacket, my gaze catching on a bright red droplet of blood that had seeped into the fabric of my shirt. I slid a look at the body still slumped in the chair at the head of the table. Matteo gestured for his men to call for clean up, and I gritted my teeth as I took in the girl still kneeling next to the dead man.

  She hadn’t escaped unscathed, either. Her pretty features were twisted into an expression of shock and horror, maroon splatters evident on the curve of her cheek and temple. Her bright green eyes, so much like Eva’s, met mine and held for a moment. I could almost see the thoughts racing through her mind. She’d likely never seen a dead body in person before, and she was still struggling to come to terms with it. I’d known this would happen, yet it still left me unsettled.

  “Boss?”

  I turned at the sound of Rodrigo’s soft prompt and gave a slight nod. “We’re done here.”

  My men flanked me as we made our way out the back door of the small restaurant. Rodrigo moved toward the car, holding the rear door open, and I slid inside. My pulse pounded in my veins as he started the engine and put it in gear. I dropped my chin to my chest. Droplets of blood had splattered over my suit, and I absently fingered a tiny maroon splotch, lost in thought. Blood spatter was never perfectly round, each droplet different from the last, just like snowflakes.

  Truth to tell, I was still a little unnerved by what had happened in the restaurant. I knew it was coming, but not being able to stop it sent a little trickle of guilt through me. I’d known the man would die; I’d seen it in my vision the day Matteo had visited my office. But watching it unfold, seeing the blank look in Matteo’s eyes as he’d killed the older man was something entirely different. I’d taken lives, enjoyed it, even. But there was something darker inside Matteo, driving him. I’d met men like him before, and there was no mistaking that look. He killed because he enjoyed it. He would take whatever he wanted and destroy anything and anyone who stood in his way. I could feel the tension rolling off of him, the first sign that things were beginning to devolve. Having a man like Matteo in control was a mistake. The Capaldis would bear watching.

  Wide green eyes flashed in my mind, and I couldn’t help sneaking a glance out the window as we pulled away from the restaurant. Matteo led the girl to the car, and they ducked inside. From the corner of my eye, I watched until the girl was ensconced in the back of the black car. Would she be safe now? I seriously doubted it. I could practically feel the fear rolling off Giuliana, the distress carved into her pretty features. He’d turned down my offer to take her, and part of me wished I’d pushed harder. In my mind, her green eyes sparkled and darkened, turning into Eva’s guileless gaze. All of a sudden, I had the overwhelming urge to get home and see her.

  I’d been avoiding her for the past few days, ever since our last interaction in her bedroom. If I was being completely honest with myself, I could admit that I was still a little rattled from our previous encounter. It’d been fucking intense, and I found myself hoping over the past four days that she would fuck up again so I could punish her. Unfortunately, her behavior had been exemplary. I wasn’t one to punish a woman without her needing it. But Eva… I craved her. She was so goddamn responsive. I’d lost all control with her, and I found myself wondering over the past few days why. More than twenty years ago, I promised myself I would never let anyone hold any kind of control over me again. But one night with Eva had everything unraveling. I loathed her as much as I desired her, and that was dangerous for both of us.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eva

  It was late before I ventured out of my room again. After my run-in with Fox th
is afternoon, I’d watched him leave with a combination of relief and dread. I hated being here all alone. His guards skulked around the house, giving the illusion of protection. But I didn’t feel safe. I felt like a specimen under a microscope, as if they were watching my every move, just waiting for me to slip up again.

  More than once I’d caught the dark-haired man—Rodrigo, Fox had called him—watching me. There was something in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine, and I avoided him as much as possible. It wasn’t hard to do, considering the size of the mansion.

  Now, though, this late at night, it was mostly quiet. I peeked out into the hall, glancing both directions before leaving the sanctuary of my room. Quietly, I made my way to the stairs at the back of the house and descended to the main floor. They emptied close to Fox’s office, but I preferred the relative privacy as opposed to the open, curving stairs at the front of the house.

  Sneaking quietly past his office and down the hall, I made my way through the formal dining room and into the kitchen. The large room was lit by only the undercabinet lighting, and I slipped inside, using the soft golden light as a guide. Making my way to the fridge, I pulled open the doors and stared vacantly inside as my stomach rumbled ferociously. I’d turned down dinner again, and now I was starving.

  It was stupid of me to continue to send food away. In doing so, I was only pissing off the cook and hurting myself. But part of me was mad at Fox, and he seemed to take it personally when I didn’t eat. It was a small act of defiance, but it was the only thing within my control. Fox hadn’t been around for dinner tonight, so I’d declined whatever Carmen had offered. I knew there would be leftovers in the fridge, but I was feeling rebellious enough to ignore them. After what I’d learned from Rose this afternoon, I wanted to needle him.

 

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