Page 47 of His Toy
Her blue-green eyes sparkled when she saw the collar I was carrying. A gleaming band of titanium, an inch wide, fastened by a tiny, obscure lock that only I had the key to.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
“This is a test,” I said. I gestured, and she lifted her hair. I fastened it around her neck, locking it. “I’m still considering the decision to be master and slave officially. But you were right. Eric needs to believe that you’re mine. It will make you more enticing. Tighten our negotiations.”
In the backseat of the car, I was checking in with my men on my phone, when Heather turned to me. “We already have a master and slave relationship,” she said. “The title is missing, officially anyway. But I’m yours to command. All I want is to do right by you.”
She left out a major desire. Her need.
“And to save your sister,” I said.
“Of course,” she said, her voice wavering, “But us? You and me? We’re already there.”
In a way, she was right. I wanted to believe what I felt in my bones, that Heather would do anything for me, that she was loyal to me, like she was loyal to her sister. But part of me knew that our relationship hinged on her sister’s safety. She would not have given me a second glance if it weren’t for the circumstances. If Heather was still mine after Eric was dead and her sister was free, then there might be something there.
And I was cautious of that kind of loyalty. I never let a slave get that close before I dismissed them. Heather was getting closer to me, the real me, closer than any other woman had. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost her. I already lost someone close to me, and I couldn’t let it go. It had been my fault.
And when she discovered the truth about me? What I did to others? Even if it was for revenge, in the name of my design, for my mother, I still couldn’t take back the things I had done. In the end, reclaiming my debt was the only thing that truly mattered.
Which was why I needed to stay focused. We had a job to do.
Convince Eric to take on Veil Security Services. The hard part would be getting through the meeting.
“You need to understand Eric,” I said quietly. “Be careful. Calculate your movements. Be cautious. Listen to every word I say. Eric has killed for far less than a verbal offense.”
Heather raised an eyebrow. “He’s killed over an insult?”
“Less,” I repeated. “Youneedto be on your guard. Be perfect. Don’t make any mistakes.”
“I’ll be careful,” she said.
Grant dropped us off at the front entrance, and the two of us went in, some of my men following at a distance. We asked the front desk for entry to Eric’s penthouse, and the attendant led the two of us to a private elevator.
The entire floor was his. At first glance, it seemed like a normal party of wealth: many people were drinking, laughing, relaxing on couches, leaning against marble columns, a fountain in the middle, a few servers with trays of champagne-filled flutes. Besides his security guards, a few men were in tailored suits, which was expected with high rollers in Vegas. But countless tall and thin men wore small black briefs with thin collars around their necks, and the women were all dressed in the same outfit: a black collar around their necks, connecting to a long strap that ran down their fronts, over their mounds and asses, until the strap met with the back of the collar. Metal loops hung along the strap, with thin bands of fabric covering their nipples, some areola exposed.
Heather stood out, in more ways than one.
“I ought to lose the dress underneath,” Heather whispered. “Maybe that’s what he likes.”
“I don’t care what he likes,” I whispered back. “He will desire you simply because he cannot have you.”
“And I need to get close—”
But then Eric stepped into the entrance lobby, a shining white jacket with a cream-colored shirt beneath it, a blush tie. His skin was darker than I remembered, leathery and sagging, with more sun-damage than possible to a living creature. Age had gotten to him; instead of the platinum hair I remembered, he had short, silver hair. I had grown, and was now taller than him, but only by a few inches. He offered a hand.
It had been years since I had seen him, and during that time, all I thought was about killing him like he had killed my mother.
And yet I shook his hand, like we were business partners.
“Well, well, well,” Eric said in a raspy voice. “So good to finally meet the famous Zaid Vale. Face to face.” He gestured at the entrance behind us. “Your men made their acquaintance too.”
“I hope they have been to your liking so far, Mr. Haverly,” I said. Heather touched my shoulder. I put a protective arm around her.
“Call me Eric. There is no need for formalities between us.” His dark eyes flickered to Heather, and I swear the mother fucker started salivating at the mere sight of her.
I enjoy it when a man looks at my woman, because I know she’s perfect, and I know she’s mine. But in this case? I could barely handle it. I never should’ve brought her here.
Why the hell did she have to be so fucking gorgeous?