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Knight.
Panic seared through me. He shouldn't be here. How'd he find me so quickly?
"Go take care of that," he ordered his men. "Hold him in the red room. You," He pointed to Antonio, "quit standing there with your dick in your hand. Guard the door. Don't let anyone in, or out."
Hands gripping my arms harshly, he drug me towards his office.
Bile crawled up my throat, as the flashback of times behind red doors threatened to overtake me.
In my mind I was screaming but I bit down on my tongue to stop it from escaping.
I wouldn't let him hear what he was doing to me.
Manuel slammed the door behind us, and there was a muted silence from the fighting outside the room. "Now," he said, an evil grin to his face. "Time for some more fun."
NINETEEN
My body hung limp as he drug me carefully over to an orange settee.
"So many pictures," I slurred, staring at a plethora of photos pinned to the wall.
"Thank you," Manuel assumed it was a compliment.
"How long have you been here?" I asked as he lay me across it, positioning my legs. "Seems like a long time."
"Long enough."
"I can see," I murmured, as I noted all the different stages of my life here in Vegas. There were also a surprising amount featuring Knight plus another man I didn't recognize. Then I remembered that Manuel was from Veracruz, from the land of old Abuelo enemies, and that this was just as much about Knight as it was about me. "Who's that other guy?"
He didn't answer me but the question was somewhat answered as I studied the images closer--the familiarity of his features made me think he was somehow related to Manuel.
The faint rumble of another crashing boom echoed through the room and my heart flip-flopped. He was now adjusting my arms, shifting my hips, scooting me backwards, making adjustments like a little doll, until I was exactly how he wanted me. And yet, all I could worry about was the people I loved.
Was Knight okay?
Was Honey still safe in the ventilation system? I hoped to God that she stayed there until it was safe again.
Manuel probed the skin around my tattoo, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. "It's turning out very nicely. I must admit, I'm very happy with the shading." My stomach rolled; I wanted to vomit at the feel of his fingers on my skin. "Well, I did practice on the other women. And practice makes perfect."
My eyes snapped to his face. "Other women?"
"Yes. After you left me. I did try to replace you, you know," he cocked his head to the side, studying me. Then he sighed. "But there was something missing--none of them could ever be quite the same as you. But that's not surprising though, is it? No one can replace my little bird, can they?"
When I didn't answer him, he pinched his lips together, pressing his fingers into the wound at my shoulder. "I expect you to behave, Tatiana."
I cried out in pain, then, breathing heavily through it, I growled out. "You shouldn't have tried to replace me, at all. Those girls didn't deserve it."
″So you've made it now, have you? Think that no one can compare?″ His eyes ignited with anger. ″Such a far cry from that night I met you.″ He shook his head, his gaze stinging with derision. "So pathetic and poor. So starved for attention and affection." He gave a contemptuous chuckle. "And Knight, the way he looked at you. Even though he could've had any woman in the world, he wanted you. Tiny, insignificant you. And that's when I knew I had to have you."
"What? Why?"
"I just told you, Tatiana," he was playing with my hair now, moving it around my shoulders, then adjusting my dress. "He wanted you. And so, I had to have you."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"That's because you're not really listening." He stood, looming over me, his eyes going soft. "Did you know that I met Knight when I was only six?"
"Like I give a shit."
