Page 31

I take a bite of the chicken drumstick and rest my feet on the cheap, red footrest in front of me.

This place reeks of stale beer and cheap perfume.

Not a place I’d ideally want to take my potential future wife to dinner, but when she’s stuck on a shift that I haven’t figured out how to get her out of yet, then it’ll have to do.

“Cade?” Her voice is riddled with disbelief.

I squint a little to look at her because the mirror ball above provides little light, but what it does show me nearly knocks me off my feet. Fucking perfection, as always. Even in that wig, she’s everything I want.

“Were you expecting someone else, Pretty Girl?”

“W-what are you doing here?”

I chew and then swallow before answering. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?”

I shrug, lifting the paper bag filled with chicken. “Yeah. If I can’t take you out to dinner, then I figured I’d bring it to you.”

“But… Luke.”

“What about him?”

Her eyes widen and her gaze darts across the room. What’s she looking for?

“Are you just going to stand there or come and eat?” I ask, taking another bite of my drumstick. “Got your favorite from the diner and managed to have a nice little talk with Chloe while I was there.”

“You did?”

I nod. “Yeah. Did you know she’s been secretly seeing some customer there?”

“She told you that?”

“No,” I say, nabbing a fry from the bag. After a few chews and a swallow, I continue, “I may have accidentally caught them making out while I was walking in. I promised not to taunt her about it if she told me your favorite order.”

“The grilled chicken sandwich?” she asks, her voice carrying the tiniest bit of hope.

“Yup.” I hold it up, still wrapped in silver foil, and her eyes lock onto it. Her mouth is practically watering. “It’s here in all its glory, just waiting for you to sink your teeth into it.”

Like me.

She hesitates before stepping toward me, her movements slow and careful, like she’s unsure if she should be doing this. Like she’s fighting an internal war I can’t see.

I clench my jaw, forcing my eyes to stay locked on hers. Now is not the time to fuck up. Now is not the time to let them drop and take in her delectable body even for a second. She needs to know I’m here for her and just her.

But it’s damn near impossible when she’s wearing the same white one-piece from the first time I saw her—the one that made it unbearable to look away from.

At least I already know exactly what she looks like in it.

Every curve, every dip, the way it clings to her body like a second skin.

Maybe if I think about that, it will make it easier.

Nope.

It only makes me want to look more. Hell, every part of me is screaming at me to look .

But I don’t.

Instead, I focus on her face, taking in the uncertainty swimming in her eyes. The tension in her shoulders. The way she’s struggling to breathe like she’s bracing for a blow.

Like she thinks I’m the one who’s going to hurt her.

I swallow hard and force myself to stay perfectly still, my hands in tight fists at my sides. She needs to know I’m not like them. She needs to know she’s safe with me.

“Chloe said some other things, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She says she misses you and wishes you’d come back and work with her.”

“I wish I could work with her too,” she mumbles.

“Then you should go back and work with her.”

“H-ho—”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish her sentence before footsteps sound outside the door. Her entire body locks up, and her eyes dart to the red light in the room’s corner. The camera. The one I’m not supposed to know about.

Luke.

Her expression shifts. Panic. Resignation. She moves quickly like she’s made some kind of decision, but I don’t realize what it is until she’s right in front of me, standing between my legs.

Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them that I don’t like. They’re distant and hollow. Not the warm, deep eyes I’ve been used to seeing.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” I joke, trying to break the tension and get her back before she disappears inside herself like she does on that stage.

And then she straddles me. Her body presses against mine, her hands gripping my shoulders, and fuck , my body reacts on instinct. She’s warm, soft, and exactly where I want her, where I’ve always wanted her, but not like this.

My hands shoot up immediately, palms facing outward, careful not to touch her. “Whoa.” My voice is low, controlled, despite the burning in my gut. “What’s going on?”

“I’m giving you everything you paid for,” she whispers, her voice hollow. I’m on the brink of losing her. I can feel it. “Everything Luke told me you wanted.”

I feel her shaking against me. This isn’t her . This is survival, and I need to find a way to get her out of this before she convinces herself there’s no other way.

I drop my hands, bringing them to my side even though I’m desperate to touch her and hold her. I can’t. Not when I know Luke is watching and waiting for her to mess up. I’m not worried about what he’d do to me, I’m worried about what he’d do to her .

“That’s not why I came here, Sav,” I say, my voice softer because I need her to hear and believe me.

Her body remains stiff, her fingers digging into my shoulders like she’s bracing for something, and I’m worried I’m too late. She’s already gone, her mind drifting off into that place I’ve seen her go when she’s dancing.

“I paid Luke to get you in here, yeah,” I admit, watching her closely for any reaction. “But not for this . Not for you to—” I exhale sharply, forcing down my frustration. “I just wanted to have dinner with you.”

“D-dinner?” she asks as though I haven’t already explained it to her.

“Yes, Sav. Dinner.”

I nod toward the takeout bag still sitting on the table, untouched.

“That’s it. I don’t give a fuck what Luke thinks.

I don’t give a fuck about his rules. I just—” I inhale deeply, jaw tightening.

“If you let me, I’ll get you out of this.

” Then I think about it. “Even if you don’t marry me, I’m getting that bastard out of your life. ”

Her breath hitches, and there are small semblances that make me think she’s coming back to me. Her eyes are deeper, her brows crossed.

“You’re better than this place, Sav.”

She swallows, blinking like she’s trying to process my words.

Then, barely above a whisper, she asks, “Am I?”

Her voice is different this time.

Crushed. Defeated. Broken.

It’s in her eyes—the wreckage left behind by whatever Luke said to her before she stepped through that door. Did she even know it was me in here? Or did she walk in thinking she’d have to fake her way through another nightmare?

“Sav, you—”

BANG!

The door slams open, hitting the wall with a force that makes Savannah jump, and my entire body goes rigid.

“Everything okay in here?” Luke’s voice slithers into the room, his eyes flicking between me and Savannah with that smug, snake-like grin.

My fingers curl into fists, and I don’t look away from him.

Savannah keeps her focus locked on me, but it’s not reassuring. If anything, it makes my stomach fucking twist because I can see it—her lip trembling, her eyes too wide, too glassy. She’s scared .

Fuck.

“Everything is great, Luke. Would appreciate a little privacy, please,” I say evenly, keeping my voice calm. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’s getting to her.

Luke doesn’t leave right away. He lingers in the doorway like a fucking vulture. “Scarlett,” he warns, his voice laced with a threat. “I’m expecting you to entertain our guest.”

Her body jolts at his words, the slight tremor running through her.

“Okay,” she squeaks out, her fingers tightening in my shirt. But she’s not looking at him. Only at me.

The door shuts, and she immediately starts moving.

Her hands wind around my neck, her body pressing against mine as she straddles my lap. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give me a second to react before she starts rolling her hips over my thighs, dangerously close to my dick.

I can feel her trembling, but her face shows no emotion as her body works on autopilot. Has she been forced to do this before?

Something inside me snaps.

“Sav,” I whisper, gripping the tops of her thighs—not to pull her closer, but to stop her. I can’t keep my hands on her for long, though, otherwise I risk Luke coming back in here.

She still doesn’t look at me. Just keeps moving with all the emotions of a doll.

I fucking hate it. This isn’t how I wanted her to feel me for the first time.

Not like this.

Not when she’s forcing herself.

Her breath shudders against my neck, and I grip her hips, encouraging her to still.

“Savannah,” I murmur, low and firm, tilting my head so our foreheads almost touch. “Look at me. ”

She shakes her head, and then I see it. The single tear rolling down her cheek.

Fuck me. I’m angry. What the fuck did Luke say to her before she walked in here?

“Sav.” I keep my voice low, steady, even though my pulse is hammering. “I don’t want to do this in here.”

Nothing. No reaction.

She’s completely out of it, sitting fully on my dick now, her hips starting to move in slow, forced rolls. And damn, I want her, but not like this. Not when her body is tense. Not when she’s doing this because she thinks she has to.

For the first time since she stepped inside this room, something shifts in her expression. Her deep, dark eyes clear just a little. Her head tilts into my touch, and I see the moment it clicks for her. I’m touching her, and that’s against Luke’s rules.

Panic washes over her face, and in an instant, she shoves my hands off her, her breathing coming out in quick, shaky bursts.

“Sav—”

She doesn’t let me finish. Her hands wrap around my wrists in a firm, almost desperate grip, and before I can react, she forces them down, pinning them against the chair’s armrests.

My jaw tightens as I watch her.