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Nathan reclined in his chair. “He’s been hushed.”

A throb lit in her head, and her heart beat erratically. The detective on her case could’ve been one of Noah’s friends. She didn’t think for one minute Nathan would’ve hushed his own brother, but if the detective on her trail wasn’t Noah, that meant…no, she wouldn’t follow that train of thought. She wouldn’t make assumptions about Noah’s life.

“Very good.” Roy squeezed her leg.

Her mental plate ran over with what-ifs. She felt like she was the only person in the room who didn’t have a clue what was going on. It didn’t add up. Who was the detective? And who did Nathan really work for?

“Sweet Red Bean Bread, ma’am?”

Dessert.She rocked her chin left to right, a mere reflex. Maybe Roy would test the new recruits another night. Maybe they’d worked for him long enough he didn’t need the dessert test at all.

“Charlee.”

She clutched her stomach and willed herself not to be sick. “Yes, Sir?”

“Hop up on the table. Show these boys how pretty you are.” He popped a battered morsel in his mouth as if he just asked her to pass the salt.

The servers flowed around her, clearing dishes and pouring green tea.Delay it. Distract him. What could she do? She stole a glance at Nathan beneath lowered lids. His eyes, aimed at Roy, flickered. Too late.

A hand chopped across her throat and knocked her out of the chair. “Put your ass on that table.”

She coughed—blinded by the pain, overwhelmed by the looming humiliation—and climbed over the ledge.

“Spread your legs and let them see your cunt.”

They say animals react to threats by fighting or fleeing. With Roy, the triggered stress response was to follow. And follow without delay.

She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. They were simply resting their eyes on her. Fear gurgled inside her. Fearforthem. She knew Roy was monitoring every breath and shift of their eyes. One wrong move would be the last.

She swallowed past the sore spot in her throat and let her knees drift apart. Chilled air brushed the insides of her thighs. She trembled, no matter how hard she tried not to.

Roy rose from his chair and walked alongside the table, bathing the room with the stench of his almighty power. The chain tightened between her ankle and his hand, knocking over bowls and glasses in its path. He paused behind a new Craig, grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked the man’s head back. “Eyes on Charlee. You will not look away again.” He released him with a shove.

During her time in the penthouse, she’d tried to reason what it would take to willingly work for Roy. Did he deliberately hire people with no morals? She’d heard whisperings of their extraordinary salaries and special benefits, such as women, drugs, firearms, and admittance to the most prestigious clubs and casinos. She also suspected many were in his employment out of debt or obligation. If her father hadn’t bartered her, would he have become a member of the staff?

“Pleasure yourself, beautiful girl.” Roy stepped back and settled against the wall.

A fresh wave of shudders pummeled her. She lifted on her elbows and scanned the voyeurs, certain their job interviews didn’t include his fateful disclosure.Look at his property, envy it, but never ever touch it.No, he wouldn’t have warned them, because he took too much pleasure in baiting them. So she met each pair of eyes in wordless caution and placed sweaty fingers between her legs.

Around the table, bodies shifted, hands dropped to laps, and lips twitched. Nathan selected a sweet bun and chewed indifferently.

“Convince us, Charlee.” Roy’s pose, with hands in his pockets and the wall holding him up, was not in agreement with the turbulence rotating in his eyes.

Her head fell back, and her fingers massaged the way Noah’s would have. No way would she get there unless Roy interacted. She breathed deeply, circled her clit, and staged a good act.

Without warning, a hand brushed her breast and returned for a squeeze. She jerked, slapped it away.

Chair legs screeched. The table wobbled, and teacups tipped in their saucers.

“Don’t, Wes.” Nathan’s command reverberated in her chest. Oh no. Was his reaction the right one? No, he should’ve stayed out of it.

Wes smiled, oblivious to his fuck up. “My God, how could I resist? She’s a sexy little thing.”

He was dead. He was so fucking dead. Her fingers froze as the pressure built in the room, seeping from the corner Roy occupied.

“Salvador.” The one word held finality. Salvador’s exit through the kitchen door confirmed it.

“Sir? What’s wrong?” Lines etched Wes’ forehead. A heartbeat later, his face paled. His brain must have caught up.