Page 8

Damon

“You lost her.” My voice is so low that it sounds like a growl.

I glare at Erick, my driver, who’s been standing by the doorway to my office the past ten minutes. He hasn’t stepped a foot inside, wise on his behalf. Though the man has been my driver for the past several years, the need to punch something is too strong; he probably knows that.

His head is bowed in contrition, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough to erase the fact that his incompetence is the reason Alice is missing.

Or the fact that you let her go shopping alone.

“I—she was about to enter the bookstore, and I—”

“I told you to keep her in your sight. I gave you one job, and you couldn’t even do that!” I shout, slamming my fist onto the table. The noise cuts through the tense silence and pain spirals up my arm.

But the pain there is nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

My hands are trembling so much with a violent mix of anger and panic. How the hell did this happen? I had sworn to protect her. I had promised her safety, and now she’s gone—disappeared without a trace, snatched out from under my nose.

Every second that passes feels like another second too long. Alice is out there—alone, afraid, and I failed her. The thought sends panic crashing through me.

I pace, running my hands through my hair. My phone sits where I threw it on the desk after not being able to reach Alice for what feels like the millionth time of dialing her number. I pick it up, scrolling though my many contacts, thinking of what favors I can call in to help find her. I’ll call every contact if I have to, every connection I have. Men will be out there scouring the city.

“Why?” I mutter to myself. I think of all the men I’ve pissed off, every business empire I’ve conquered to get to where I am. It’s a long list.

I turn to my driver who looks like he might pass out. “You said she was talking to a man. What did he look like?”

I’ve asked him the question several times, but it’s always the same answer.

“I didn’t see his face, sir.”

“Calm the fuck down and tell me anything you remember.”

Erick takes a deep, shaky breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I remember…he had black curly hair – “

“Black curly hair?”

He nods and then it hits me.

Dark curly hair could mean her father. And her father could mean the auction house.

My blood turns to ice. Kirk. That sick bastard.

I did this. I put her in danger by ending the partnership with Kirk.

I’ve been too caught up in my own fucking guilt of not keeping her safe to realize. Of course, it’s him. This isn’t about just money. This is his way of getting back at me.

I look up at Erick in horror, unable to stop picturing the many ways men like Kirk take their revenge.

“Get the car ready,” I bark, but I’m already halfway out the door, my fists clenched at my sides. Every fiber of my being is screaming for me to run, to tear that place apart with my bare hands.

The drive to the auction house feels like an eternity, each minute stretching out, torturing me with the thought of what they might be doing to her. My heart races, and I’m barely holding myself together. If I’m too late… no, I can’t think like that. I won’t be too late.

When we arrive, the sight of that fucking building sends a red haze over my vision. I don’t bother with subtlety; I barrel through the entrance, ignoring the stunned expressions of the people milling about. I’ve got one target, and I’m not leaving without her.

Inside, the auction is already underway. My blood turns cold as I see her—Alice, on the stage, in a red see-through dress like that night only she looks even more afraid now.

Kirk is standing in the position of the auctioneer with a smirk that makes my hands twitch. I can’t wait for the satisfaction of breaking his face.

I can’t see straight. Rage is blinding, all-consuming, and I lose control.

“You fucking bastard!”

My voice booms through the room, and heads turn toward me, but I don’t care. Kirk’s smirk fades as I charge forward, my eyes locked on him.

Kirk backs up, calling for his guards, “What the hell are you guys waiting for? Get him!”

The first guard moves toward me, but I’m faster. I slam my fist into his jaw, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone before he drops to the floor. The second one comes at me with a baton, but I grab his arm and twist, forcing him to the ground.

I feel like I’m possessed. The anger running through my blood is ten times worse than it was a few minutes ago. And it was already bad back then.

How dare he parade my girl in front of all these people? How dare he take what’s mine?

Kirk finally has the sense to look afraid as I approach him, but it’s too late. My fist connects with his face before he can utter a single word, and I keep swinging. One punch, then another, until he’s crumpled on the floor, bleeding and gasping for air. Yet, I keep going. Hitting him over and over again.

“Damon!”

Alice’s voice pulls me out of what feels like a lucid dream and I stop. I grab his bloody shirt and pull him up, barely able to contain the violent rage clawing at my insides.

“You’re done,” I growl through gritted teeth. “I’m going to destroy you and everything you’ve ever built.”

Though his face is a bloody mess, Kirk still tries to plead with me, “I can make you rich. We can sell the whore – “

I don’t give him a chance to say another word before landing one last punch, knocking him out cold. I want to rip him apart but instead my eyes find Alice, and in an instant, I’m by her side. I cup her face in my hand.

“Are you okay?”

Relief washes over her face, and she nods. She’s trembling, and without hesitation, I scoop her up into my arms, holding her as close as I can.

“You’re safe,” I murmur, cradling her against my chest as I carry her out of that hellhole. “I’ve got you, Alice. I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t say anything, just buries her face in my shoulder, her hands clutching the fabric of my shirt. I feel her tears soaking through, and it only makes me hold her tighter.

As soon as we get home, I kick the front door open, still holding her close in my arms.

She’s light, fragile in a way that reminds me it’s my duty to protect her. And that’s why the weight of what almost happened tonight is so overwhelming. I nearly lost her.

I carry her straight to the bathroom.

I need to clean away the filth of that place, to reassure myself that she’s really here, safe and unmarred.

I push open the door with my shoulder and set her down on the marble countertop. Her eyes are wide, searching my face, as if trying to understand the storm inside me.

“This wasn’t your fault.”

It’s the first thing she has said since we left that place. She doesn’t understand that it makes me feel worse.

I turn on the water, letting it run as I stare at her, my heart pounding in my chest. There are a thousand things I want to say to her. I want to apologize for leaving her, to apologize for how scared she must have been, for so many things. But the words that leave my mouth aren’t an apology.

“I love you, Alice,” I whisper. “The fact that I didn’t get to tell you that was the worst feeling in the world.”

She blinks up at me, tears welling in her eyes, and she nods. “I love you too, Damon. I realized that today.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and something inside me snaps. I grab her by the waist, pulling her against me, needing to feel her skin, her warmth, her everything. My lips crash onto hers, raw and desperate, and she gasps into my mouth. Her hands grip my shoulders, pulling me closer, as if she needs me just as much as I need her.

The emotions between us are too intense to be gentle. I was terrified, terrified that I would never hold her like this again, never feel her body pressed against mine. My hands find the hem of her dress, and I yank it over her head, leaving her bare before me. She shivers, her breath hitching as she looks up at me with wide, trusting eyes.

The look in her eyes—trust, love, vulnerability—it nearly destroys me.

“You’re mine. Do you understand that? No one will ever take you away from me again.”

She nods, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I’m yours, Daddy. Only yours.”

Something primal surges through me, and I lift her off the counter, pressing her back against the cold tile wall of the shower. The water cascades over us, but I barely notice it.

My focus is entirely on her—on the way her body responds to me, the way she arches into me, her soft moans filling the space between us.

I slam into her, hard and fast, and she cries out, her nails digging into my back. It’s rough and animalistic, but I can’t hold back. I need her to feel this, to feel how much I love her, how much I need her. Each thrust is a reminder that she’s here with me, safe and alive.

Her body clenches around me, her head falling back against the tile as her cries of pleasure mix with mine. “I love you,” I groan against her neck, my lips brushing over her wet skin. “I love you so much, Alice. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

She gasps, her legs tightening around my waist as I take her deeper, harder. “I love you too, Daddy,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible between her panting breaths. “Please… please don’t stop.”

Her words send me over the edge. I grab her hips, pulling her impossibly close, feeling her tighten around me as she lets out a sharp cry. Her orgasm crashes through her, and I follow right behind her, groaning her name, losing myself in the feel of her.

We stay like that for a moment, our breaths ragged, hearts racing as the water pours down on us. I press my forehead against hers, trying to catch my breath, trying to come down from the intensity of what just happened.

“I love you, Alice. More than anything.”