Page 49

A udrey finishes zipping up the back of my mahogany ball gown. It’s flashy and will no doubt draw the attention of his handsy colleagues. But I’m assuming that’s Jason's intent.

Sick bastard.

It hugs my waist, highlighting every part of my body with my breasts inches from spilling out.

“I hate it.” I flinch when I realize I said that aloud.

My maid’s eyes soften. “Regardless, it was made for you.”

“It was made for someone else. Not for me.”

I notice her eyes dart to the door, then back to me. “The security will be less at the back of the mansion tonight. But you didn’t hear that from me.” She goes to leave, but I grasp her hand.

“Thank you.”

She says nothing as she swiftly leaves the room. Maybe I can use that piece of information to my advantage.

I finish dabbing the mark on my cheek, trying my best to hide the purple marks with makeup. But there’s no denying the cut and bruise are visible. The scab on my lip as well. The sad thing is, no one at this party will give a damn. I bet most of them beat their wives, too.

It’s practically dark, the party having started almost an hour ago. If I don’t make my appearance now, Jason will come looking for me.

The guests are stuffy. Most of them with bad Botox and plastic surgery. The whole thing is an elephant sitting on my chest, not being able to breathe. Eyeing every corner. Every back door. I need to figure out a way of how I can slip out.

The bottom patio area is surprisingly empty, and I suppose I can start there. But before I can reach it, my husband spots me from afar, waving me over while the man standing next to him makes my stomach equally roll in nausea.

Dennis. The too touchy-feely creep who made it his mission that night to have his way with me.

Until I have a plan, I fake nice, plaster on an artificial smile that now drips with an unfamiliarity, and saunter over to them.

Classical instrumental music plays while exaggerated laughter and clatter bounce off the immense walls and monstrous ceilings.

“Sora. It’s been too long. Jason tells me you were away at rehab?”

Rehab?

Jason snatches the wine glass from my hand. “Darling. You shouldn’t be drinking. You don’t want to digress.”

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes into slits at my filth of a husband. “Oh. Yes. Well, it seems it wasn’t for me.” I gesture toward Dennis and then steal my glass back from Jason, chugging it like a lifeline.

I need to be one hundred percent sober, and the wine was originally for show, but then Jason went and pissed me off.

He shoots an angry glance while Dennis chuckles.

“I love your free-spirited nature, Sora. Come. Walk with me.” Dennis holds out his arm, and that’s when panic floods me. What is he planning on doing? Is he making up for lost time?

Don’t lose composure, Sora. You can’t. Just focus and stay calculated.

I swallow, taking his slimy hand. “Of course.” I hand Jason my empty glass and he scoffs.

“Maybe you ought to teach my wife a lesson. She seems to have forgotten her manners since she’s been away.”

The urge to sucker punch him again claws its way to the surface.

“I think that can be arranged.” Dennis guides me to where the staircase leads up upstairs.

Before ascending, I stop and gently tug my hand free of his. “Why are we going upstairs when the party is downstairs?”

Dennis smirks. “ Our party is waiting for us somewhere more private. And you will join me.”

The thudding of my heart drowns out every other noise. And I suddenly feel sick. “Excuse me?”

Dennis closes the gap between us. “I didn’t get what I was promised last time. So, I will get what I’ve already paid for and that, my dear… is you.”

“I’m a recovering alcoholic, didn’t you hear? Surely there are women here more to your liking?”

He raises a hand, brutally cupping my injured cheek. “I don’t give a damn where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. I’m not marrying you. You already have a husband, and I already have a wife. But you…” He eyes me up and down. “Are a prize to be had and I’ve been itching to explore you myself.”

I ball my hand into a fist, clenching it at my side, not the least bit surprised. But it doesn’t make my stomach stop swirling any less. I want to scream. Thrash. Do everything in power to escape here.

Before any more time passes, Dennis squeezes his hand around my upper arm, practically dragging me up the stairs with him.

“You think I’m going to allow you to touch me?” I fight, trying to free my arm.

“Yes. Because that was the agreement. Ten thousand for that cunt of yours.”

I gasp. “Ten thousand. That’s all? I feel I’m worth at least fifteen, give or take the day.”

He lets out a sinister laugh, grabbing both my arms this time, throwing me inside an empty room. I fall to the floor and when he turns on the light, I’m aware it’s one of Jason’s private rooms he has here at the mansion.

He grabs me, pulling my hair upward, forcing me off the floor while my scalp cries out in pain. “Touch me. Now.” He goes to unzip his pants, and mortification sets in.

“Go to hell. I’d rather you kill me.”

He smirks and lands a good smack to the same bruised cheek.

“Fucking Christ. Can you assholes please stop hitting me in the face? This is how you feel you’re controlling women? Pathetic.”

“Fucking bitch.” He grabs another fistful of hair, repeating his moves, and I let out a yell as he smacks me again.

I chuckle. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” A Viking scream rushes out from me, and I land a blow to his jaw. I then jerk my leg up and my heel connects with his balls. He lets out a satisfying cry of pain.

Five seconds is all I allow myself to envy my work before getting the hell out of there.

I don’t make sure no one’s around. I don’t care. I just run for the stairs, taking the way back to the outside patio. Giving up isn’t an option. This will never be my life, and I’d die before it ever becomes mine again.

The music dies as soon as the back door closes and I’m the only one outside. The fresh air helps me regain composure, but I don’t stop. I sprint for the staircase leading to the gardens. But before I can reach it, someone grabs me from behind. Two powerful arms enclose me, enabling me to move.

The man is saying something, muttering into my ear, but it’s muffled. I’m too angry and scared.

I thrash in a frantic panic, about to throw back another one of Logan’s moves he taught me, but then it strikes.

Logan.

His smell. His feel. Everything that I’ve grown to love is right behind me, engulfing me in a protective barrier.

I’m breathing heavily, able to form the one word I’ve been dying to speak. The name I’ve been trying to get out. “Logan,” I whisper, allowing myself to melt into him.

“Hello, dove. I was wondering when you’d notice.”

I let out an embarrassing cry because it’s like someone scooped up and threw away all the mess and chaos. “Logan.” Another sob escapes while he continues to hold me before my body can fall to the ground. “You came for me.”

“My Sora. I will always come for you.”

My heart leaps, but then it plummets, reminding me of why he shouldn’t be here. “Logan…” I turn in his firm embrace enough to see him. “It’s not safe for you. Jason will never let us walk out of here.”

He spins me so we’re fully facing each other, a furious look washing over him as he scans my wounds.

The light in his eyes turn dark and I’m afraid there’d be no stopping him.

Reaching up, he slowly and carefully takes my face in his warm embrace.

His touch always feels like home. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, dove. It’s not safe for your husband.”

Tears cascade down my cheeks, causing a burning sensation.

Logan dips down, so he’s parallel with me, then starts to softly rub the cut on my lip, parting my mouth. “Did he do all this?”

I soak in his touch. “Yes. But he had help. One of Jason’s colleagues was trying to get what he paid for.”

The darkness fully cascades over him like shadows. Eyes growing soulless.

“But I used the move you taught me, and he went down crying like a little bitch.”

Logan forms a smirk, bringing sanity back into his eyes.

“That’s my girl.” He brings me to his chest, and I lay my head on it listening to his heartbeat.

I know we can’t stay like this. But right now, it’s what I need, and Logan knows that somehow.

He holds me. One arm wrapped tightly around my waist and the other embracing the back of my head, stroking a strand of fallen hair.

The door flings open and heavy footsteps grow nearby. “What the fuck is this?!” It’s the yell of an angry man who I just sucker punched in the face and kicked in the groin that catches our attention.

Dennis stands a disheveled mess, but his body is seeping into a violent rage.

Logan lets me go, stepping to block my body with his. He stands tall like a warrior getting ready for battle.

“I paid for that whore! Move out of my fucking way.” Dennis advances, but Logan holds strong with a twitch of his fist at his side.

At the perfect moment, Logan grabs Dennis’s arm, twists it behind his back and then slams him onto the banister, purposely releasing him. Dennis’s head creates a violent thud, and it makes my stomach lurch. But the satisfaction of his karma is enough to rectify it.

“Fuck!” Dennis spits blood and tries to lunge for Logan but terribly fails.

Logan catches his flying fist, then grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “I should end you. But if I go down, it won’t be for you.”

“What’s going on here?” Jason steps outside with a confused expression. Two men follow him, black suits, and raised guns in our direction.

“Your business partner was just leaving. Isn’t that right?” Logan threatens.

Dennis looks like a deer in headlights with his head a bloody mess.

“Put down your guns ! That’s my wife you’re pointing at,” Jason’s angry voice echoes through the night.

Now he cares what happens to me? Unlikely.