Page 9

Chapter Eight

COLETTE

Merrick’s hand slides up the outside of my thigh to my hip before it curls around and cups me between my thighs. Arching my back, I press my ass against his hips and moan at the sensation of his length between my ass cheeks.

Two fingers slip inside of me before he curls them and presses his palm against my clit. Turning my head, I open my eyes and look over my shoulder. The sensation of Merrick’s fingers inside of me disappears, and I realize I’m alone.

Rolling onto my back, I let out a heavy sigh and stare at the ceiling. Blinking, I sigh as I pinch my eyes closed. My mind drifts back to last week at my engagement party, and a tear slides down my temple.

I was auctioned off like an animal to be used on my wedding night by a complete stranger—one million dollars to use my body. Maybe I should be flattered by the amount, but I’m not. I held back the tears, but just barely. And now that I’ve been home, I haven’t been able to stop crying.

My father has offered me not a single word or explanation. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he watched that downright embarrassing scene and not only did nothing but said nothing as well. He watched, with a smirk on his lips, as my future husband promised to whore me out.

I don’t understand what the hell is going on. How could this be my life? Pinching my eyes closed, I try to keep from crying all over again. I am tired of feeling this way, of crying, of everything that is my life.

I’m sick of standing by and watching everything happen around me—and to me. Day in and day out, some new trauma is announced, especially recently, and every time I think I can possibly dig myself out of it, something even worse happens.

Rolling to my side, I slip my hands beneath my cheek as I stare at my closet doors. Everything that is hanging behind those doors is for a stranger. They are not for the woman I am inside. They are for this creature my father has cultivated, a fictitious thing that doesn’t exist outside of this bubble.

I don’t fall back asleep. Instead, I continue to stare at the closet doors and wonder what the next few weeks will be like leading up to the wedding and then the wedding night. My body has already been auctioned off, and I don’t understand why.

Why would this man have agreed to marry me, no doubt paying or owing my father something, just to turn around and sell me to another? And that entire room of people practically salivated over it—men and women.

What kind of people is my father associated with?

When the sun begins to rise, I decide it’s time for me to do the same. I don’t have much on my schedule today, but that doesn’t mean I can laze all day long. I have no doubt there will be something I need to accomplish for this sham of a wedding.

Once I’m showered and dressed, I make sure to apply a little more makeup than usual. That’s what I’ve been doing lately. Somehow, it makes me feel slightly more hidden from the world. I know it’s a false sense of security, but it’s all I have right now.

Glancing at my reflection, I snort at the sight. I look horrible. Overly made up, dressed too over the top for lounging around the house, but at the same time… My armor protects me. At least it does inside my own head.

Reaching for my doorknob, I gently twist it. I’m not a prisoner of my bedroom. I can come out any time I want and go wherever I want inside the house. I just prefer to stay in my own solitude, and the only place that’s guaranteed to be quiet is my bedroom.

The house seems still, almost stagnant, as I walk down the hallway. Marcello isn’t waiting for me outside of my bedroom door, which surprises me. It seems as if he’s been right behind me every single minute of every single day lately.

Moving through the house and toward the kitchen, I’m relieved to find everything empty. But then I pause, wondering how it could be so empty. My father’s men are always around, lurking around every corner, and they are nowhere to be heard or seen.

That makes me wonder if something big is happening.

Reaching for the handle of the refrigerator, I curl my fingers around it as I gently tug it open. A bottle of ketchup makes a rattling sound, and I glance around from left to right to see if anyone comes around the corner to find the source of the noise, but there is nothing.

Focusing back on the contents of the fridge, I smile at the sight of a Greek yogurt that greets me. I reach for the container, then grab a bowl of berries and some granola from the pantry before I make myself a little yogurt parfait.

Picking up my bowl and spoon, I think about walking into the breakfast room to sit down at the table to eat, but I decide against it. Instead, I stand at the kitchen counter before I close my eyes and welcome the complete silence.

Letting out a heavy sigh as the sweet yogurt and fruit hit my tongue. But most importantly, I relish in the quiet. I’ve always been someone who prefers not to be seen, not to be heard, not to exist.

Aside from the traumatic events of that party, just being on display that way was a hell I didn’t even know existed. All I wanted to do was be home, alone, with a book. When a throat clears, my spine straightens, and I almost jump out of my skin. Turning my head, I look over to see none other than Marcello standing at the entry to the kitchen.

“Your father would like your attendance in his office.”

He says it like there is an option when I know that there, indeed, is no such thing. Dipping my chin, I let out a sigh and place my mostly uneaten yogurt on the counter before I turn toward Marcello.

“Okay,”

He flicks his gaze to the bowl of uneaten food, then shifts his attention back to meet mine. “Why don’t you go ahead and put that in the fridge for later.”

I do as he suggests, but the reality that I will no longer be hungry after speaking to my father is so high that I probably won’t finish it. I don’t tell him that, mainly because it doesn’t matter.

He makes his way to my father’s office, and I follow behind him, only stopping when he steps to the side of the door. When I reach for the handle, Marcello clears his throat, and I turn my head to look over at him.

I watch as he tilts his head to the side, his gaze searching mine for a moment. When he speaks, I wonder why he’s saying what he is, and at the same time, I wonder if this is a trick. I’m not buying into it, mainly because I know my fate is already sealed.

There is no getting away from what’s going to happen in a few weeks’ time.

“Just say the word, Colette, and I will help you.”

I don’t say the word. Instead, I wrap my fingers around my father’s doorknob and twist as I push the door open. I don’t expect to see the office filled with more than just him, but when I find a roomful of people, I wonder if I should have taken Marcello up on his offer right this minute.

MERRICK

Sitting outside of the New York building, I look all the way up to the fourth floor, where I know her bedroom is. The limestone building is, without a doubt, one of the gaudiest on the inside. Just thinking about it makes me want to laugh. It’s so fucking ridiculous.

At the same time, I also know that it’s more secure than the White House, mainly because I’m the one who put in the security system, complete with palm print entrances to almost every room.

“So, what are your plans?” Boden asks beside me.

Sliding my gaze over to him, I arch a brow as I stare at his profile for a moment. He’s focused on the limestone building in front of us. He’s got the plans from the security system that I put in place on his iPad. He’s seen it and knows it’s impenetrable.

“I don’t know,” I say.

I’m sure I sound annoyed because I am.

He hums but doesn’t say anything else. We’re in a black car parked across the street and one house down in an effort not to appear suspicious and to also be out of the view of the cameras.

Starting the engine, I begin to shift it into Drive to get back to the hotel when a car pulls up and stops directly in front of the house. I watch as the back door opens. Two men and one woman exit the vehicle.

They are dressed in business suits, all three of them, the woman being in a skirt suit. They don’t look like Mafia. The way they carry themselves, they seem almost political. If not, then definitely executives of something.

Interesting.

“The wedding is in just two weeks,” Boden announces.

I snort. “Those people have nothing to do with the wedding. What can you dig up on Adriano by the morning?” I ask.

“Not sure, but I can try. I’m thinking I should have been digging up shit on this fucker the whole time I was looking for stuff on Colette,” he murmurs.

Once the suits have entered the house, I shift the car into Drive and head toward the hotel. “You found out some useful information about him.”

“Like?” he asks.

“That he probably murdered Colette’s mother.”

“Probably did,” he states.

The drive back to the hotel should only take five minutes, but since it’s New York, it takes forty-five. Once we’ve dropped the car off at valet, gone upstairs, and ordered room service, I pour myself a drink and let Boden get his shit done.

I want to know about Adriano. I want to know what the fuck he’s messing with. I don’t know why it didn’t hit me before that he could be involved in something other than possibly drugs, arms, and prostitution. But whatever that was, who those three people were, they were not drugs, sex, or guns.

They were different.

Room service arrives, and I deliver Boden his meal in his bedroom, but he tells me to wait as I’m walking out of the room to eat my own meal. Stopping, I look at him, waiting for him to continue.

He shifts his gaze away from his computer and lifts it to meet mine. “I was able to get footage from the city CCTV from the street and do a face search. The woman popped up first. Essentially head of the children’s protection agency in the city.”

My entire body seizes. I tilt my head to the side, and my gaze searches his for a moment, then I just stare at him. I’m unable to speak, unable to really breathe as I think about what he’s just said to me.

“You’re shitting me,” I murmur.

“Not shitting you,” he states. “I don’t like that they were meeting with each other. Why?”

Nodding, I clear my throat and sink down on the chair across from him. It’s in the corner of the room, and I have enough space to cross my legs and rest my ankle against my knee as I spread out to think.

“There’s no way this could be connected to our past, is there?” I ask. “It’s so far away. I don’t remember ever going to New York.”

A darkness slides over Boden’s eyes, and I know he’s going back to that time, too. Unfortunately, as much as we don’t want to visit it, we’re forced to from time to time, and this is one of those times.

“I don’t remember going there, either, but we are products of a broken system, bought, used, and abused. I don’t like the fact that she was at that house, knowing Adriano’s ties to the underground.”

I don’t either.

Not in the fucking slightest.

“It is probably completely unrelated. Maybe he’s getting into politics? He’s the perfect kind of asshole for that,” I point out.

He is the perfect kind of asshole for that, but my gut is telling me it’s something more sinister.

“I’ll be back,” I state.

Standing, I walk out of the room, and the hotel. I’m not sure where I’m going yet, but I needed to get out of that room. I need to move. Powering off my phone, I decide I don’t want Boden or anyone else to be able to track me.

I don’t even bother having valet get my car. Instead, I hail a cab. The cabbie asks me where to go, and I don’t even think about the question. I give him Colette’s address. I’m not sure how the fuck I’m going to get into her room, but I am. And I’m going to get some goddamn answers.