Page 154 of The Enslaved Duet

“Like Alexander,” Dante needled ruthlessly.

“Likeyou,” I snapped.

He held his hands up like twin white flags of surrender, but I was on edge with defensive irritation, and nothing could soothe that restlessness. I knew from experience the only way I would be able to relax again was under the clinically cold hands of a seasoned Dominant.

And not just any Dom, but Alexander himself.

Unbidden, an image of him from last night branded itself in my mind’s eye; the thick wave of golden hair pushed from his forehead like a crown, the cold metallic bite of his eyes as he pronounced mehisfrom across a crowded room. Being in his arms again had felt like magic, like something I’d concocted so long in the cauldron of my heart I still couldn’t believe it had come true.

“You know he doesn’t love you,” Salvatore reminded me, his voice flat and factual, not unkind. “He was raised by monsters to be a monster. There is no love in a heart like that. If there was, he would have come for you at some point over the last half decade.”

It would have been a good time to confess to them both that Alexander had come for me, but I didn’t want to deal with the fallout. If they thought he might reappear again, they’d have Dante installed at my side every minute like a shadow.

I wasn’t sure they were worried about safety so much as worried that if given the chance, the way I hadn’t been given three years ago on my wedding day, I might stay with him forever.

My stomach ached with the force of my conflicting emotions. I could be honest with myself by admitting that seeing Alexander again had brought my staid black and white life once more into vibrant colour, but I was also smart enough to wonder if that was healthy or not.

He was my captor, my abuser.

My father’s sworn enemy and my best friend’s ostracized older brother.

A shrink’s worst nightmare.

I had my own life I’d worked so hard to make full and happy in New York. Alexander showing up out of the blue shouldn’t have undermined that the way it did.

But God, I hoped beyond hopes I would see him again.

I was enamoured with him eternally as if I’d been cursed, and I had no clue how to find the remedy.

“I can help, if you insist on getting information on the Order,” Dante interrupted my thoughts to say. “I still have connections I could call on…Why don’t you let me set up a meeting with a man I know who might be able to help us get some answers?”

“Ren,” Salvatore spat the name like a curse. “Such a man doesn’t do something for nothing.”

“No,” Dante mused as his eyes washed over me like hot water so that my skin seemed to steam. “But I have a feeling he’ll do this for us.”

“Good. You do that, and I’ll do my thing with Ashcroft.”

“No. It’s too dangerous and unnecessary. What do you hope to find?”

“He likes to dress me up as his maid and have me clean the house, so I’m sure I can find some incriminating evidence.”

Salvatore cursed through the phone, and I heard the smash of a glass.

“Cosima, you need to be careful with Ashcroft.” Dante shifted on the stool to pull me between his legs and take my face in his hands. I closed my eyes because, for the first time in years, I couldn’t bear to look at him and see the ways he resembled Alexander. “Don’t put yourself at risk for a man you’ve romanticized in your memories.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve put myself at risk for the ones I’ve loved. Ashcroft isn’t a danger to Alexander right now, Dante; he’s a danger to me and my family. I won’t have my career ended by a scandal, and I won’t have him hurt my loved ones to get to me. If Ashcroft wants me, he can have me. He just doesn’t know yet that he won’t ever be able to handle me.”

Cosima

I was blindfolded.

For the first time in years, my sight was taken from me, and I was half naked before a man.

Only this wasn’t a scene with my Master.

This was professional, a shoot for one of the top clothing brands in the world.

The air in the studio was clinically cold to keep my nipples beaded behind the delicate silks and satins of their expensive lingerie. The man instructing me to bend, curve, and smile was not my Dominant with a whip, but my director with a camera. One of the most famous in the fashion world.