Page 13 of Bought (BOUGHT TRILOGY #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lucian

Something feels off. Not quite right. She’s as beautiful as ever as she sits across from me, but she’s fluttering her lashes, a forced smile on her pretty face.

“This was nice. Thanks for coming.” I stretch with a yawn. “I’m going to have to call it a night.”

“What?” She leans back in shock, as if I’ve slapped her.

Glancing at my watch, I say, “I’ve got to be up early. I need to get going.”

I offer to drive her home, but she declines. I call Mack to take her home.

We wait in the lobby, the first awkward silence of the night stretching between us.

I see the car pull up to the curb. I hold the restaurant door open for her. “Ride’s here.” On the sidewalk, I plant a chaste kiss on her cheek, zip up her coat, and hand her over to Mack.

As she slides into the back seat, she glances over her shoulder, and for a brief moment, her eyes fill with the pain of rejection.

A look that instantly fills me with guilt.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. Leaning in, I whisper against her lips, “And so tasty,” before leaving her with a deep kiss.

I run a hand over the back of my neck and turn away. As I walk off, I feel like I can breathe again.

When she came back from the bathroom—the ‘loo’—something was way off.

There was a strange energy emanating from her, one that was absent the first night she visited my place. As much as she excited me, the seduction felt fake and forced.

“Bought.”

I whisper the word to myself. Maybe that’s the real reason I sent Erin away. Shame. For what I did that night. Paying for a young girl’s virginity.

The Morettis were closing in on us. The pressure brought back memories of the old me, my mistake, the one that got my men and Izzy killed.

I needed more than calm smiles and practiced words to clear my mind.

It seemed so exciting at the time. A challenge. A way to raise the stakes from my usual agency visit.

One night. Something new. Cleansed and ready for work.

Then, Erin arrived at my door.

She was nothing like the professional women that the agency sends, and certainly not the timid virgin I was expecting.

I wasn’t able to follow through with my purchase that night. Was she forcing herself to be with me because she couldn’t stand the thought of having that money, when she hadn’t followed through on the transaction?

I feel torn, like a man at a crossroads with no idea which way to go. If I never see her again, she’ll haunt me with thoughts of what might have been, lingering in the back of my mind forever.

If I do what she wants and take what I bought, I’ll never be able to leave her alone.

I should call the agency. Request a woman who can put my mind at ease and make me forget. Go to the seedy club outside the city, get the private lap dance in the back, and pay the additional five hundred dollars to clear my mind—anything to stop feeling this way, to stop obsessing over her.

The last woman who had me wound up like this is dead.

I was twenty-four, overly ambitious, eager to prove I could lead.

Carlo, my best friend and Isobel’s brother, stands across from me, his face unreadable, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

He’d been with us for two years. I’d vouched for him, brought him closer, trusting him with details I should’ve kept hidden.

“Shipment’s late,” I mutter, glancing at my men scattered throughout the space. They’re alert but relaxed—too relaxed—because I told them this was safe. That’s on me.

Then I hear it—the metallic slide of a rifle being cocked. My stomach drops. I spin, but it’s too late. The doors burst open, steel screeching on concrete. The Morettis pour in like shadows given flesh, weapons raised, eyes cold.

My men barely have time to react. Gunfire erupts, deafening and tearing through the warehouse with flashes of muzzle flare. I dive behind a stack of crates, pulling out my Glock and returning fire. But it’s chaos—my men falling one after another, their shouts silenced, the floor slick with blood.

And then I see her.

She’s a shadow that catches my eye, a slight figure running out from where she must have been hiding behind a set of bookshelves.

Izzy. She shouldn’t be here. I’d told her to stay away, but she must have followed me anyway.

She’s headstrong and stubborn, just like she always is when it comes to me, doing the exact opposite of what I tell her—just to prove to me she can.

I can only see a glimpse of her dark hair as it swings behind her as she turns to run, but I know it’s her.

“No!” I roar, scrambling to run to her My legs feel like lead. My hands shake.

Time slows to a cruel crawl.

A shot cracks. Sharp. Final.

I don’t even hear her scream.

Something in me breaks. I fire until the gun clicks empty, until the slide locks back, until all I hear is my ragged breathing and the ringing in my ears. Carlo is gone—vanished in the chaos, his betrayal etched into every body on the ground.

When the smoke clears, I’m still alive. Alone. Standing over the dead men who trusted me. I go to search for her body, but my loyal soldier, Rafe, pulls me away. “We have to go! Come on!”

“No! I have to find Izzy.”

“They’ll be back. We have to go now. There’ll be more of them to finish us off.” He can’t convince me, but finally, he tells me that if I don’t run, he won’t either.

Essentially, I’d be killing us both by staying.

It was my mistake. My arrogance. My need to prove I could dominate. I let the wolf inside the gates. And the cost was everything.

I leave with Rafe, torn in two, hating myself and wanting nothing more than to carry Izzy’s body with me.

I want a fresh start. A woman to drag me from this grave I’m buried in. I want a woman who will bring me back to life.

I think I’ve found her. And I want to let myself love her.

Truly, fully, deeply.

But when you love someone, truly, you do everything you can to protect them.

And being with me is anything but safe.

My decision is clear. There is only one choice.

I can’t make the same mistake twice.

Revving the engine, I weave through traffic until Manhattan is just a reflection in my rearview.