Page 4

Well, this can’t be good.

Cracking one eye open, I glanced around the room enough to figure out I was alone. At least I had that going for me. I’d lost the cleaner’s jacket and hat at some point in my unconsciousness, and the tub was cool where it touched my cheek. Still, my head felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with cotton wool. As I tried to stretch out my legs, I realised my ankles were cuffed together and my shoes were gone. Fucking wonderful. No wonder Emerson felt it was safe to leave me alone in here.

Emerson. Shit. How the hell did I mess up badly enough to wind up doing my best impression of a worm in a target’s bathroom? He was supposed to be in the office for at leastanother two hours. Did I miss something when I was preparing? Maybe Roman should’ve given the job to someone else. Leo was practically foaming at the mouth to get this job over me, butno, I had to fight for this. Should’ve let Leo end up cuffed in a tub.

He wouldn’t have gone as far as tipping Emerson off to spite me, would he? The job would still need to be done, and Emerson would be on alert now. It wouldn’t make sense to sell me out.

Screw it. No use worrying about it for now.

My chest ached as I wiggled up to a sitting position and took stock of the situation. Lucky for me, the bathtub was roomy as fuck. I knew Emerson was rich, but even his captive’s bathroom was fancy. The light reflecting off the toilet seat looked brighter than my future.

The door had a simple latch on the inside, left unlocked. I supposed I could try to lock it so Emerson couldn’t get back in, but it wouldn’t do me much good. The only other exit was a small window next to the sink. I was confident in my climbing abilities, but even if I got these cuffs off, escaping to the outside of the eighteenth floor was probably only slightly stupider than shouting for Emerson to run me a bubble bath while I was in here.

There wasn’t much else in the room. It was minimalist, much like the rest of the penthouse. Nothing I could use to get out of these cuffs, anyway. If I could find my backpack, I’d have my tools, but Emerson must have stashed it away by now.

As I tested how much I could move in the cuffs, they felt weirdly soft. I guessed they were made of leather, thick and annoyingly secure. I wouldn’t be getting out of them with nail clippers. Ignoring the aches in my muscles—How long had I been lying here, anyway?—I pulled my feet under my bum and pushed myself to my feet enough to sit on the rim of the tub.

Okay. Making progress. Now I just had to lift my legs over the edge and swivel—

I landed face down on the bathmat with an undignified crash. Ugh. If Emerson hadn’t been on his way to check on me before, he sure was now. Maybe he was wealthy enough to soundproof his captive’s bathroom. Did rich people soundproof bathrooms? He had one especially for prisoners, so maybe there was hope.

Rolling onto my back, I waited for a few moments, listening for any movement outside. If Emerson was about to storm in, I had a better chance of fending him off with a well-aimed kick, even with my feet bound. Better than struggling to my feet only to flop on him. Satisfied at the quiet, I moved onto my side and inhaled a deep breath, mentally preparing to get to my feet. The bathroom stank of alpha, and I needed to get out.

Wait. It stank. I could smell that an alpha had been here recently.

Those cheap-as shit-suppressants were wearing off early! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’d been on those pills for almost a year. There was no telling what could happen if I didn’t get another pill down my throat before my pheromones kicked in again. I had to get outnow.

As I pushed up onto my knees, then my feet—mentally promising myself I’d start stretching before a job from now on—I penguin-shuffled to the door. At least no one was around to see me like this, or I’d never hear the end of it. And if Leo really did sell me out, I was going to kick him in his smug, backstabbing face.

The door squeaked open before I could get to it, and I stepped back, immediately tripping on the ankle-cuffs and falling backwards, “Ah!”

A hand fisting my t-shirt stopped me from hitting the ground again.

“Good to see you’re awake.”

Emerson’s rumbling voice immediately gave me goosebumps. He glared down at me, his icy blue eyes sharp and calculating.Was he debating dropping me the final few feet? Part of me wanted him to get it over with. Helplessly dangling from his grip made me want to scream, but I bit it back.

His arm flexed as he raised me slightly before pausing. “Tell me your name.”

I clenched my jaw, staying silent. His scent was overwhelming in person, a tantalising mix of ink and leather underlying his expensive cologne that made me shiver. It was an alpha musk that had my inner omega wanting to curl around him and breathe him in until it consumed my senses. I was in so much trouble.

Emerson flattened his lips into a line and took a breath before trying again. “I asked you a question.”

Snapping back to reality, I chuckled, cocking my head to meet his piercing gaze. “And I didn’t answer.”

His grip tightened on my shirt, whiting his knuckles. I enjoyed knowing I was getting to him so quickly. He seemed like the type who was used to getting what he wanted. If I got him mad, he’d probably trap me back in the bathroom or call the cops. Not ideal situations, but at least I’d get a reprieve from his addicting scent.

“You were much more polite in your little disguise.”

“Give me back my jacket, shoes, and backpack, and I’ll gladly call you ‘sir’ again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But would you give me your name? Better yet, tell me who you’re working for.”

I’d give him my home address, mother’s maiden name, and first pet if I breathed him in much longer. Scenting an alpha this closely after months without the sense was messing up my brain. But I could do this. Just hold my stupid omega senses together long enough to get him to leave me alone; then I could figure out an escape plan.

“You may as well drop me back in the tub. I’m not telling you shit.”

He studied me for a moment, his pale blue eyes drilling into me as if he could read my desperate thoughts like a book. His arm wasn’t even shaking after holding me up this long. How strong was this guy? Strong enough to squeeze me unconscious. Probably strong enough to pin me against a wall while he—