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Thankful for the time it’d taken to drive to Charles De Gaulle in a black limousine.
Ily had fought.
She’d screamed.
It hadn’t made a damn bit of difference.
She’d cowered against the side of the limo, glowering at all of us, her golden eyes darting from Roland as he poured some champagne to Victor who typed on his phone.
By the time we pulled up to the private airstrip, she trembled with terror, and I shook with desperation.
Sucking in a breath, tasting her floral citrusy perfume on my tongue, I fingered my birdcage cufflinks. Was the GPS location working? Could Q see my little red dot blinking with sin as I sat in a plane ready to fly into hell? Surely, he’d dealt with other traffickers who had technology like Victor’s and knew how to get around it?
Victor never took his eyes off me as the engines started with a powerful purr.
Ily flinched, a soft whimper under her breath.
“You know, Henri…I was once like you,” Victor said softly as the plane shuddered and rolled into motion. He tapped his chest, his face full of commiseration. “I always knew I was different. Always knew I was destined for greater things. I might’ve been born into a middle-class family and taught to get a menial job where I would be turned into a slave for a tyrannical government, but I didn’t accept that. I didn’t allow myself to be bled dry by taxes and robbed of life’s great pleasures. If I had, I would’ve eventually gotten sick and died, just like everyone else.” He shuddered as if his tragic ‘could-haves’ truly terrified him. “Life would’ve been meaningless, pointless, devoid of happiness and…fun.”
“Rape isn’t fun, you asshole,” Ily snapped. “It’s criminal. You deserve to be in a cage.”
“Deserve? Oh, most likely.” Victor nodded. “Will it ever happen? Of course not. Thanks to following my purpose, I am now immune to society’s laws.” He leaned across the aisle, his dark blue eyes glinting. “I rule my world, girl, and I cannot wait to show you how you will serve in it.”
Before Ily could spit at him or invoke the Master Jeweler’s wrath, I planted my hand on her thigh.
She immediately shoved my wrist, growling like a feral tabby. “I said, don’t touch me.”
“And I said, don’t fight.” I dug my fingers into her firm quad. The strength bristling beneath her skirt surprised me.
Curiosity bloomed despite my tension.
Was she slim and strong because she worked out?
Why did she buy as many rocks as her ex said she did?
Was she truly in love with her adoptive brother?
A shard of jealousy struck me. My fingers bit harder into her flesh.
“You’re hurting me.” She shifted away.
I let her go, shaking out my hand and hating the fire in my fingers.
Victor smiled as bloodthirsty as a shark, missing nothing as I let Ily tell me no.
Wrong move, Ri.
No means yes in this world.
No is a gold-gilded invitation.
I swallowed hard as Victor reclined in his chair. “You definitely remind me of my younger self, Ward. There’s an angel on your shoulder telling you that touching a woman against her will is wrong. That the urges in your body are twisted and ought to be ignored for as long as you physically can. You probably think you can indulge in a quick fuck, no harm done, and then return to your previous life as if nothing ever happened. Am I wrong?”
I froze.
Shit.
Careful.
