Page 14

Max

I pause outside her room before I head inside, gathering myself as best I can.

Come on, Max. You can do this. No woman has ever gotten under your skin like this before. You’re not going to let her start now.

"Max, is that you?”

Cara’s voice drifts out from inside the bedroom, putting cold water on whatever attempt I might have been making to control myself.

I grit my teeth, and push open the door all the way, stepping inside with breakfast for her.

It’s not much—toast, eggs, orange juice—but it’s the best I can do while I’m waiting for my father to send out one of his men with supplies.

“Morning,” she says, like we didn’t cross almost every line three nights ago. Like she doesn’t still taste sweet on my tongue. I grunt and set the tray down like a soldier delivering rations—not breakfast in bed.

As though a second has gone by without me thinking of it since.

"You don’t want to join me for breakfast?” she asks, and I shoot a look at her.

"This isn’t room service with a side of friendly conversation, Cara."

"I know," she replies, lifting her chin to look at me. "But I’m getting bored in here all alone. Least you can do is give me some company."

There is something in her words that tells me this is a challenge, but it’s not one I’m entirely sure I’m ready for, at least not yet.

I can still remember, with crystal clarity, how good her pussy tasted, the pulsations of her clit beneath my tongue, and being this close to her is flooding my memory with the sensory input that nearly drove me to make a choice I knew I would never have been able to come back from.

I go to make a move for the door, but, before I can, her hand shoots out to catch my arm.

I glance over at her, and I can see some genuine pain in her eyes.

She’s not just trying to get me alone, though that is part of it.

She actually wants someone with her, and I don’t know if I have it in me to turn my back on her right now.

"Please, Max," she whispers. "I— I don’t like being alone."

I tug my arm from her grip, opting to lean against the doorframe while she eats her breakfast. The distance between us should grant me some safety from the power of her eyes on mine, the smell of her skin filling my senses, at least for a little while.

She begins to pick at her food, her delicate fingers tearing off a few pieces of toast before she pops them into her mouth.

"I thought you’d enjoy your own company," I remark without thinking. She stares at me for a moment, looking surprised.

"Why?"

I pause for a moment. I don’t know if I should tell her just how much of her life I am aware of.

How many details I’ve learned in the process of trying to bring her father down.

But I’ve seen how few people come and go from that mansion he calls home, and I know she doesn’t have a lot of friends visiting, to say the least.

I shrug.

"Seems like your father kept most people out of your life, where he could."

She picks at a loose thread on the covers for a moment.

"Yeah, well, maybe that’s why I don’t like being alone," she replies. "Too much time with my own thoughts. Doesn’t do anyone any good."

I manage a small snort.

"Yeah, I’m with you on that one," I reply.

Her face brightens as soon as she hears me say that.

I've been doing my level best to put as much distance between us as possible the last few days, ever since my slip-up, but she has been jumping on every chance she gets to try and connect with me.

Part of me feels bad for even letting her get her hopes up.

"You spend a lot of time alone?”

"No."

"Family? Friends?”

"Family, mostly," I reply, finally giving up on trying to keep her at arm’s length. It's clear that she’s not going to stop peppering me with questions at any chance she gets, and it’s easier to just give her something than it is to brush her off.

"You have siblings, right?”

"Yeah. I see more of my youngest sister, though."

"God, I always wished I had siblings," she sighs, as she reaches for her orange juice. "I always thought life would be easier to handle if I had siblings. Especially a brother."

"Why a brother?”

"Because..." She trails off for a moment, like she’s not entirely sure she wants to tell me what’s actually on her mind. But then, seeming to think better of playing mysterious, she forces herself to continue.

"Because then I know that my father would have someone to hand the business down to," she admits. "With it just being me, and with my mom not being with us anymore, I know... I know it’s not what he had imagined."

The way she says it, I can tell that this has hung over her head for a long time.

She might not want to admit it, maybe not even to herself, but there’s clearly some weight that sits on her shoulders as she tries to contend with everything she is not.

I almost want to go over to her and comfort her, but I know that would be risky.

Any time I come close to her, I can feel the heat building between us again, the tension, and I know that I can’t let that get the better of me.

"I guess that’s why he was going to marry me to that man," she remarks, managing a small smile. "Some way to make use of the fact I came out female, at least."

That’s all he thought she was good for? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, all things considered.

I know what he does to women, how he uses them, how easy it is for him to turn them into husks of their former selves with no humanity to fall back on.

But his own daughter... he really must hold women in serious contempt if this is what he’s willing to do to her.

Everything Veronica said about him is right.

"Would you have gone through with it?" I ask her. "If it hadn’t been for...?”

She glances up at me, a slight smile quirking up the corners of her lips.

"If it hadn’t been for you busting in and kidnapping me?” she asks. To my surprise, her voice is light, not accusatory, even if she has every right to be. I nod.

"I don’t know," she admits. "I mean, I’m sure I would have. I don’t think Dad would have given me much of a choice, and he’s the kind of man... when he’s angry, you don’t want him to aim it at you, I’ll just say that."

"He would have forced you?”

She shrugs.

"He wouldn’t have had to. He knows that."

My heart pangs, hearing her speak about him like that. She’s already so resigned to her fate, to her place as his pawn, that she doesn’t even seem to realize there’s more out there for her. I know it’s not my job to introduce her to all of it, but there is a part of me that longs to.

"Any other family at the wedding?” I ask her, changing the subject. I should use this to get as much information out of her as I can. Though, truth be told, I am just more interested in listening to what she has to say. She shakes her head again.

"No," she replies. "Most of our family... well, they’re either dead, or they don’t want anything to do with my father. I guess because of his work."

"They’re not part of the game?"

"No, a lot of them are," she replies, furrowing her brow.

"Honestly, that always confused me. He has cousins who are involved in... you know, illegal stuff. That’s how he got into all of this in the first place.

And yet, these last few years, they have all cut him off.

I never see them anymore. I guess they were jealous of all the success or something. .."

I grit my teeth. She doesn’t know. She really, really doesn’t know.

Because what her father is doing is a hard line for a whole lot of people in this business, even people you might assume could never lay down such a line in the first place.

Sex trafficking, selling people’s bodies, it was beyond what we could live with.

Which is why there is so much money in it, why her father has succeeded in building such a powerful and influential empire off the back of it.

He’s the only person willing to stoop to those lows to get what he wants, the only bastard bad enough to force people to act in such a way, and even his own family have cut him off now.

At least, the ones who know about it.

"Max?"

She seems to have noticed my silence. I blink and clear my throat. It’s not my job to tell her the truth about her father. It’s my job to keep her here, under wraps, and make sure she doesn’t slip through our fingers. We need her.

Even if there is a part of me that longs for nothing more than to tell her the truth. I’m not sure if it’s a desire that springs from wanting to hurt her, or wanting to free her from the feeling that she has to give that bastard of a father of hers any respect at all.

"What’s wrong?” she presses.

"Nothing," I shoot back swiftly. I straighten up, and nod to the food on the tray in front of her. "Eat. You need to look after yourself."

She gazes up at me for a moment, her eyes heavy-lidded.

"And there I was thinking you wanted to look after me," she shoots back, a small glint flashing in her eyes.

Fuck, there's something about the way she looks at me sometimes that makes it hard for me to think straight, as though every sensible thought in my mind is threatening to give out from underneath me at any moment.

"I’m just keeping you alive," I remind her sharply, my voice laced with a little more anger than I intended.

It’s not anger aimed at her. It's anger aimed at me for not being able to control myself when it comes to having her this close to me. I’m a grown-ass fucking man, and I should be able to handle myself around a pretty girl, even around a pretty girl who’s looking at me the way she is right now.

But I can’t. I can feel that want in me all over again.

And before I can let it get the better of me, I turn my back and stalk out of the bedroom towards the bathroom, making sure to lock the door before I head into a shower.

I don’t want her making a break for it again, not after what happened last time.

I know I need to keep a closer eye on her than this if I am going to make sure of it.

I start running the shower, and turn the water down to as cold as I can handle it. I need a short, sharp shock to my system right now, something to blast me out of this dangerous headspace that I find myself in. Because I want her—fuck, I want her. And I know she wants me.

I step under the cold water and tip my head back, letting it course over my body and trying to dampen the rush of fiery desire that threatens to get the better of me, even in that moment.

I have wanted women I couldn’t have before, of course, but this is different because I know that she wants me, she has made that part pretty damn clear.

So, holding myself back feels like a trial I am putting myself through for no reason, and I am not sure how much longer I can handle keeping my distance like this.

I’ll call up some of my father’s men, get them down here, fill this place with some other people to try and push away the feelings that are coursing through me right now.

Soon enough, this will be over, and we will have what we wanted from her kidnapping.

Even if, right now, it’s hard to believe that I will ever be free of this need.

Closing my eyes, I try to focus on the sensation of the chilly water flooding my body, and not the memory of those half-lidded eyes she looked up at me from under back in her bedroom.