Drake led the way, strolling arrogantly through a house that’d been here long before the other suburbs. As we’d driven from the airport, behind blackened windows of a fortified SUV, I’d looked into the driveways of quaint houses and manicured lawns of cramped subdivisions, parcels of land getting smaller the larger the city became.
Not this house.
This house had a guard turret at the bottom of a long sweeping driveway. This house had frost-sprinkled oak trees lining the expansive snowy lawns and a large pond glittering with ice in the distance.
Drake hadn’t said a word as he’d dragged me up the stone steps and over a double door threshold with carved angels in the wood.
Angels...how ironic.
Perhaps, it was Lucifer instead. The fallen one who’d turned his tricks to treachery instead of scripture.
The foyer held double-height ceilings with huge architraves and heavy brocade on the walls. The parlour matched with equally impressive doorways and sweeping views over boxed hedgerows and military-precise cut lawn with snow pushed to the side in drifts. The kitchen held a fruit bowl overflowing with offerings—where I snagged my grapes—while cabinets glistened with a pearly veneer.
Each room held hints to its history but also buckled beneath modern styling.
“Set it up in here,” Drake commanded as he hauled me into another lounge, this one deeper and darker than the rest. A tomb within a home. Navy wallpaper and black ceiling; spotlights highlighted a library on one wall and oppressive artwork of hunts and hounds on the other.
Watery sunlight did its best to illuminate the shadowy corners, but we were no longer in the tropics, and the sun had a weaker quality. It was grey light not golden. Sad light not hopeful.
It set my teeth on edge. My empty stomach snarled.
“Grab a curtain tieback,” Drake snapped as his hired goons deposited the boxes of elixir onto the chaise by the pine-cone-filled fireplace. No flames licked at the stone façade or gave off cheery heat. But the house wasn’t cold, so some form of heating had to be operational to keep the wintery chill at bay.
A mercenary arrived with a plaited rope of velvet matching the sapphire drapes.
The blue reminded me of Sully.
Of his eyes as they filled with ardent hunger.
Of his need as he undressed me.
Are you alive, Sully?
I swallowed hard, blocking out thoughts of him.
I needed to stay on guard, on edge.
The moment the mercenary dropped the tieback into Drake’s hand, he came toward me and chuckled. “I was contemplating playing together tomorrow. After all, we’ve lived through a lot, you and me.” Drake took my hand, kissing my knuckles as if he could convince me he was a gentleman of the manor courting me. “However, I’ve learned that waiting for what you want only leads to disappointment. I’m done waiting. So...I’m taking.” He rose from his slight bow over my hand. “I’m taking you, and you’ll be happy to know my libido has returned in full fervour thanks to the long rest on the plane.”
Grabbing my wrist, he dragged me forward until he forced my palm against the erection in his crinkled trousers.
Shuddering, I tried to pull away.
“I’m hard at the very thought of what we’re about to do, Eleanor. Gonna taste what’s got my brother in such a tizzy.” Dropping to one knee, he ran his hands down my hips, thighs, and calves until he reached my ankle.
I kept myself locked down. To not react to his heinous touch. To not ram my palm into his nose. We weren’t alone. Men with guns patrolled. Until I had some chance of winning, I had to bide my time.
Wrapping the curtain tieback around my left leg, he pushed me backward until I bumped against a heavily embroidered aquamarine silk couch. Everything was so stuffy compared to the driftwood furniture and seagrass rugs of Sully’s villas. The walls were too thick. The colours too dense.
The large room seemed to squeeze around me as Drake tied me to the couch leg, imprisoning me like some unwanted pet who wasn’t allowed to jump on the décor.
Standing, he grinned. “Just so you don’t get any ideas while we set up.” His dark hair was as rumpled as his clothing. Shadows under his eyes, spite bracketing his mouth. A spoiled little asshole who needed to die.
“You know what? I’ll tie your hands too. Just to be safe.” Clicking his fingers at the younger mercenary, he barked, “Another tieback.”
The request was brought.
Drake jerked me to my feet, the mercenary trapped my hands together, and Drake wrapped the velvet around and around until I was bound.
“Nice and snug?” Drake kissed the top of my shoulder, suffocating me with his conceited pride.
Had he noticed I hadn’t spoken a word to him since Monyet?
Did he care that I’d slipped into silence for protection and mockery?
As long as I kept my tongue quiet, I would not give him extra ammunition against me.
He already has enough.
“Close the doors.” Drake snapped his fingers as he opened another box that his goons brought in, rifling through the contents to fist sensors for Euphoria.
So he’d been coherent enough to take Sully’s virtual reality equipment too.
Shit.
The sounds of three sets of doors closing sent my heart skyrocketing. I looked over my shoulder as locks were turned and any concept of escape was barred.
Drake scowled at the five men in the room. “Three of you get out. Two can stay.” Arching his chin at the mercenary who’d been in the helicopter and Monyet with us and an older guy with a salt and pepper beard, he ordered, “You two, you stay. The rest leave. Stand guard outside.” He chuckled, almost as an afterthought. “There are staff in this house, by the way. Don’t shoot them. I need them to be at my beck and call.”
The three unselected men nodded and slipped through the double doors back into the first living room we’d passed. The buzz-cut guy marched
