Page 6 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Five
ANDY
I stumbled back into my apartment, barely able to muster the energy to close and lock the door behind me. The world outside had become a whirlpool of chaos, and inside wasn’t much better. My stomach growled like a feral beast, demanding some kind of offering.
Leftover pizza in the fridge would have to do.
I tossed a couple of slices into the microwave and leaned against the counter, my thoughts spinning around Sean’s betrayal and the mountain of debt crushing my spirit.
The hum of the microwave filled the silence, but it couldn’t drown out the roaring anxiety in my head.
Two million dollars. It might as well have been two billion. The thought of that sum churned my insides. The microwave beeped, but suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore. I left the pizza untouched and dragged myself to the sofa, collapsing into its worn embrace.
I closed my eyes, but instead of darkness, I saw Matt staring back at me—his towering frame, those stormy gray eyes that seemed to strip me bare. An unsettling shiver raced down my spine, my body’s visceral reaction at odds with the fear coiling in the pit of my stomach.
There was something undeniably magnetic about the man, a raw, primal energy that called to the deepest parts of me.
The way he moved, all coiled power and graceful prowess, commanding every inch of space around him.
His very presence was like a force of nature, simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
I shook my head, attempting to dislodge the intrusive thoughts. Matt was the last person I should be dwelling on right now. Not when the weight of that two-million-dollar debt felt like an anvil around my neck, slowly suffocating me.
Enough of that. I forced myself to think about nothing, letting exhaustion pull me under.
A few hours later, I jolted awake from a nightmare that never truly left me, sweat trickling down my back as the remnants of that dreadful accident clung to me like cobwebs.
My hands trembled as I raked shaky fingers through my damp hair.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to push the memories away, but they barreled through.
My thoughts drifted back to that fateful day years ago, the one that ripped my world apart at the seams. The screech of tires echoed in my ears, a sickening crunch of metal on metal, flames licked at shattered glass as smoke filled my lungs.
My parents’ car—a twisted wreck—lay before me, blood pooling on cracked asphalt—it all played out in agonizing slow motion behind my eyelids.
I could still hear my mother’s final scream, a sound that would haunt me.
In the aftermath, Mia and I were tossed to our so-called relatives like unwanted baggage.
Uncle Herbert and Aunt Miley made sure we felt every ounce of their disdain.
Abuse came in all forms—mental jabs that cut deep, emotional manipulation that left us raw, and physical blows that turned our skin shades of blue and purple.
I gritted my teeth, the old anger flaring hot and bright in my chest as I remembered shielding Mia from their cruelty, taking the brunt of their abuse to spare her as much pain as I could.
And then there was Herbert’s sickening depravity, his wandering hands and twisted desires.
I made sure he focused his attention on me, kept Mia as far away from his grasp as possible.
His touch was something out of a nightmare itself—cold, invasive, soul-crushing.
The memories made me want to scrub my skin raw, but I refused to let it break me.
The day Mia turned eighteen was our escape hatch. We ran with nothing but hope fueling our steps, determined to build a life where we looked after each other and no one else dictated our fate.
I groaned and pushed myself off the couch. No point in dwelling on the past, especially when my present was enough of a disaster. A hot shower sounded like a good idea. Maybe the scalding water could wash away some of the stress clinging to me.
Steam filled the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror and turning the air heavy.
Under the hot spray, I felt my muscles unwind bit by bit, the tension slowly ebbing away.
Each rivulet trailing down my skin seemed to carry a fraction of the weight from my shoulders.
I tilted my head back, allowing the water to sluice over my face, and took a deep, steadying breath.
The world outside became a distant hum, my mind finally finding a moment of peace.
Of course, peace never lasted long in my life. A pounding on the door shattered the quiet, followed by Matt’s unmistakable voice booming through my apartment.
“Andy! Open up!”
I swore under my breath and turned off the shower, water still dripping from my hair as I scrambled for a towel. Wrapping it around my waist, I hurried into the living room just in time to see Matt standing there like he owned the place—my door lying in splinters on the floor.
“What are you doing here? You just broke down my fucking door!” I snapped, anger flaring hot in my chest.
Matt’s eyes languidly roamed over me, and I suddenly felt incredibly conscious of my state of undress. His gaze seemed to linger on every exposed inch of damp skin, stoking an unwanted heat low in my belly. Damn it, why did he have to look at me like that?
“Relax, sweetheart,” he drawled, rich amusement coloring his tone. “I’ll have Eddie replace the door. No need to get your panties in a twist.”
I shot him a glare that could melt steel. “This Eddie better replace that goddamn door,” I growl through gritted teeth, “or else.”
“Or else what?” he rumbled, slowly stalking closer.
My breath caught in my throat as he closed the distance between us. I wanted to back away, but something kept me rooted in place, drawn inexplicably to the raw, primal energy radiating from him in waves.
“If you don’t leave right now,” I snapped, ignoring the way my body responded to his presence, “I’ll call the police.”
Matt laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine despite myself. “And what will you tell them? That you’re hiding from your sugar daddy?”
Anger flared hot and bright inside me. Before I could retort, Matt grabbed my arm.
“What are you doing?” I demanded as he started toward what was left of my door.
“I don’t like being disobeyed,” Matt said calmly. “And since you seem to think running away is an option, I’m taking drastic measures.”
My heart pounded as his words sank in. He meant business this time—no more playing nice.
I stumbled after him, my arm practically yanked out of its socket as he dragged me through the remnants of my apartment door.
I tried to wrench free from his grip but found it impossible against his iron hold.
The man was built like a brick shithouse—all solid muscle and unyielding strength.
Struggling against him was about as effective as a fly batting at a windshield.
“Let me go, you Neanderthal!” I growled, digging my heels into the floor. It did precisely jack squat to slow Matt’s determined stride.
My towel, barely clinging to my hips, decided to make a break for it. It slipped, and I scrambled to catch it before giving the whole damn building an eyeful of the full Donovan package.
“Hey, at least let me get some clothes on first!” I snapped, clutching the towel with one hand while Matt continued dragging me with the other.
Matt barreled ahead single-mindedly as he said, “No time for that, sweetheart. You can air out the goods in the car.”
I sputtered indignantly, heat flooding my face. The nerve of this guy!
By the time we reached the sidewalk, I was a flustered, towel-clad mess. A hulking man held the door open of a sleek black sedan like some kind of silent invitation—or a trapdoor. Matt didn’t slow down. He all but tossed me inside like a sack of potatoes.
I landed in an ungraceful heap on the leather seat, the towel riding up dangerously high. Scrambling to cover myself, I ended up in the corner with the terrycloth barely preserving my modesty—front covered but bare backside planted right on the upholstery.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
Matt slid in next to me, his presence filling the small space with an oppressive heat. His eyes, dark and smoldering, roamed over me with undisguised interest. His gaze felt like a physical caress, setting my nerves alight in a mix of indignation and something much more unsettling.
“See something you like?” I quipped, arching a brow. Two could play at this game. “Or are you just enjoying the view?”
A low chuckle rumbled from Matt’s chest. “Both.”
My face burned hotter, but I refused to look away from his stare. “If you wanted eye candy, you should’ve stopped at a strip club instead of kidnapping me.”
Matt’s lips curved into a smug smile, his eyes glinting with undisguised amusement.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” He leaned in closer, invading my personal space in a way that should have me recoiling, but instead had my pulse kicking up a notch.
“Why go to a strip club when I can have a private show?” His eyes roamed over me again, igniting a fire of anger deep within.
“I prefer my entertainment a little more… interactive.”
His words hung heavy between us, laden with blatant innuendo. Heat crept up the back of my neck as I fought the urge to squirm under his intense scrutiny. “Keep staring and you might go blind,” I snapped, shifting uncomfortably on the leather seat.
Matt’s gaze didn’t waver, boldly raking over every exposed inch of skin. “I’ll take my chances.”
Indignation flared hot in my chest. “Would you quit undressing me with your eyes? It’s getting really freaking old.”
One dark brow arched in challenge. “I haven’t even started, sweetheart.”
I opened my mouth to fire back a scathing retort, but the words died on my tongue as Matt’s fingertips grazed my bare thigh, tracing featherlight patterns along my skin. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of unwanted heat straight to my groin.