Page 22 of Bought

Fool me once, shame on you.

Twice?

And I picture the worst: Cass on the floor, covered in red, her phone in her hand, my number her last call. She’s clutching Ryan in her blood-streaked arms.

Love is weakness, and weakness can get you killed. Or, if you’re my sister, in a wheelchair.

Cass fell in love with the wrong man. Caleb Cutright. The hottest and richest guy at her university with a panty-melting Scottish accent and a muscular body. Caleb was a billionaire and highland romance all rolled into one.

Later we found out where his endless supply of money came from; he’s the son of the don of a dangerous gang in Glasgow called the Hoax, a criminal organization deeply involved in drug trafficking.

Caleb convinced Cass that he had come to England to earn a business degree, secure a respectable job, and escape his family’s crimes.

However, we also discovered that the mafia runs in the blood. It’s not something a man can run from.

She was a broke college student who worked extremely hard. In the end, he beat her. She tried to leave him for Ryan’s sake. He beat her again, partially paralyzed her, and now she’s in a wheelchair.

I wouldn’t have made a deal with the Morettis unless it was absolutely necessary. But money can't buy the protection we need.

Caleb can find us. His people can find us.

I have to hold up my end of the bargain so they will honor theirs.

After I finish my task, there will be no more violent men in our lives.

Makeup done, I walk into the kitchen, where Cass is struggling to open the wine bottle. The countertops are too high, so she has the bottle clamped between her thighs as she twists.

She growls through clenched teeth without looking up. “Don’t you dare ask.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Wasn’t going to!” It’s too painful to watch, though, so I settle on the edge of a kitchen chair and distract myself with my phone.

Ten minutes later, it’s thirty minutes before I have to leave.

Enough time to share the glass of wine Cass is finally bringing over.

I hold up my glass to cheers. “Thanks.”

We make sure our eyes meet as we clink glasses. If your eyes don’t meet, it’s seven years of boring sex.

But I’m a virgin.

My laughter fades.

Sex with him would be anything but.

I’m scared.

I wasn’t worried last night, going in bold, with nothing but the money on my mind.

Now?

I tip the glass back, draining about a third of the wine down my throat. I’m filled with nerves, and my face flushes.

Cass wrinkles her nose. “Your skin’s all blotchy.”

Not wanting her to worry, I lie. “It’s the alcohol. I never drink anymore.”

“’Cause we can’t afford it.” Giggling, she takes a deep sip, the cheap wine puckering her mouth. “The only good thing about Caleb was that there was always good booze when he was around.”