Page 20

Chapter twenty

Hell

Kylie

I showered. Mainly to give myself time to think and wash the stench of vomit off me. I didn’t know if my guys survived. But I wasn’t ready to give up easily.

And I didn’t want to bait the monster. My marriage taught me that sometimes acting like I was whipped was an easier path. Not that I wouldn’t fight like hell when the time came, but I had to be smarter than my captor.

I couldn’t do that if I bucked his orders initially. And I didn’t know him well enough to guesstimate his reactions. Other than being a total psychopath, he was an unknown quotient. Until I understood the lay of the land, how he operated, whether his hired help would be easy to sway or if they were loyal to their core, I couldn’t make a move.

When I stepped out of the bathroom still in a towel, I blanched. On the bed was a little black dress and a pair of strappy black heels. On top was a bra and panty set in sheer mesh black.

If there was anything left in my stomach, I would be back in the bathroom spilling my guts. As it was, I gritted my teeth and padded over to the bed. That’s when it dawned on me—the sadistic fuck had cameras in the room. Maybe even had a few in the bathroom.

That’s why he knew to send someone in to lay the clothing on the bed.

I dropped the towel. No point in modesty when he’d likely already seen the goods. It burned my butt that I had to act like the good little stooge.

The bra and panties fit like they were meant for me. How did the fucker have my damn sizes? Had he really been watching me that long? Out of all the things my dead husband had done, the fact that he’d told Luka no when he expressed interest in me, was something I would forever be grateful for. Knowing my husband it had simply been because he considered me his property and didn’t like to share.

But it also left me wondering if Luka’s obsession with me arose out of his defiance. Had my husband created more of a problem for me with his refusal to share me?

It’s something I would never know.

The black sleeveless bodycon dress was skintight and felt like silk. It molded itself to my body like a second skin. If anyone else had given it to me, I would have loved the sexy dress. But because it was from Luka, I wanted to burn it.

At the thought of flames, I sat on the side of the bed and pressed a hand over my heart. I missed them. Axel, Gideon, Mateo, and Chase, the men I loved. The men I didn’t know how I would live without or carry on.

It might be a moot point anyhow. Even though Luka desired me, I doubted he meant to keep me.

From what I knew about him, he didn’t leave women alive when he discarded them. They tended to have a short lifespan. It was up to me to discover how long he intended to keep me.

The door opened. I jolted and rose into a defensive stance. A man I didn’t know, with short, dark clipped hair and a face resembling a hound dog entered with his arms loaded. His beady black eyes assessed me as inconsequential. He laid the items on the bed.

“Senor Santos requests you are dressed and ready for dinner. He will be with you shortly.” He nodded and backed out of the room.

I studied the items he lay on the bed like they were venomous snakes. But really, once I moved past my revulsion for anything coming from that man, I began recognizing what they were: a hair dryer, brush, makeup, perfume, and even jewelry.

I wanted to defy the edict. I wanted to give him the finger. I wanted to crawl beneath the bedcovers and sob.

I did none of those things. I soldiered on. I carried the stuff into the bathroom and did as he bid. There wasn’t anything to style my hair with other than the dryer and brush. But then, a curling iron could be used as a weapon.

When I was done, I stared at my reflection. I looked the part of a kept woman. It was a look I knew well after my husband. On the outside, I looked like a sexy woman, expertly styled. My long dark hair fell in a straight sheet over my shoulders and back. Everything about me looked the part until I met my eyes in the mirror.

They were hollow, stark, and ancient.

I might be on the cusp of twenty-four. But I’d lived more life than most ever did. And my soul was weary.

At the sound of the bedroom door opening, I swallowed my revulsion and waltzed into the room with my shoulders back and head held high. I would do my best not to cower before him.

Luka stood in a commanding stance, watching his men while they carried in a dining table, chairs, and place settings.

How sweet. He wanted to have a candlelight dinner with me.

Blech.

“Ah, I knew that dress would look fantastic on you. Turn,” he demanded, circling his fingers.

I hid my distaste and unease, then performed a full three sixty turn. My skin crawled at the lust in his gaze. A man like him would take pleasure in my pain.

“Lovely. Have a seat.” He held out one of the chairs for me.

Steeling my spine, I took the seat he indicated and let him push my chair in. Luka sauntered around the table and sat opposite me. He stared with a possessive light in his eyes, while his staff served us. My stomach was still raw, the scent of the meat and vegetables were repulsive. But then a glass of champagne was placed by my plate.

“Are we celebrating something?”

The way he stared reminded me of a snake right before it struck its prey. An evil, satisfied smirk appeared. “Of course. Drink up. If I remember correctly, Cristal is your favorite, no?”

It disturbed me to no end just how much this man knew about me. “Yes, it is. Thank you.”

I reached for the champagne flute, unable to hide my trembling fingers. Something he found amusing. Bastard. I wanted to take the silver fork and stab him with it. But I knew it would be a short-lived victory.

Lifting the glass to my lips instead, I took a few long sips of the bubbly. It was a drink I imbibed rather frequently when my husband was alive. It helped dull the edges, so that I didn’t care.

I drank a little more before I asked again. “What exactly are we celebrating again?”

“Why the demise of your bodyguards, of course? It’s been confirmed that their bodies were discovered in the rubble of your treasonous husband’s former house.”

I gripped the glass tight while my heart shattered. I was glass, and I was breaking. How could they all be gone? “I see. Thank you for telling me.”

I drank some more bubbly to hide my pain. He would mock me for it or use it to his advantage.

“Only they weren’t really bodyguards, were they? But undercover CIA agents posing as your bodyguards. Tell me, just how long have you been in league with the CIA?”

I choked on the alcohol. “What? They were CIA?”

How did he know that when I had just discovered it myself? I prayed my act was convincing. What if he didn’t believe me? I tried to appear stunned at the news.

Luka tilted his dark head and narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, I would have thought you were smarter than that. But from what I understand, you weren’t above fucking them. I just assumed you knew they were CIA.”

“No. I didn’t know. And Carlos was a lousy lay.” I shook my head, unwilling to divulge any secrets. Let him think I just wanted to be a tramp with men I thought had just been bodyguards.

The room began to seesaw. My field of vision grew wonky. I looked at the glass in my hand in dawning horror. He had poisoned the champagne. It’s why he wasn’t drinking it. It was the oldest trick in the book.

And I was a moron.

The glass slipped out of my hand and shattered on the floor. I shoved away from the table, holding my head with one hand.

“What the hell was in that?”

“Just a little something to make you sleep.” He rose from his chair. “You will soon learn that I always get what I want.”

I stumbled away from him. I had no idea where I was going. But the only thought surfacing was that I had to escape right now. That I wouldn’t have another chance. That even if I had to take my chances with the ocean, I would be better off.

I made it into the hall with Luka’s sardonic laughter behind me.

I kicked off the stupid heels and began to run. At least, it felt like I ran, when in all likelihood, it was a stumbling gait with no destination in mind other than escape. My vision swam. The scene before me transformed into a weird spinning sensation. It dragged at my limbs. My body grew heavy.

Hands grabbed me from behind and slammed me up against the wall. “You made a critical error, sweet Kylie. I’m not some malleable moron. You will obey me in all things. And you will pay for acting like a fucking whore with those agents. If you don’t behave, when I’m done with you, I’ll give you to my men. And they’ve never had such fine pussy.”

Tears sprang into my eyes. My face ached from hitting the wall. But the drug he spiked the champagne with yanked me down. Unable to fight or flee, I slumped as the drug yanked me into a dark oblivion.

And I welcomed it like a long-lost lover.