Page 146 of Lethal King

Reaching into my pocket, I search for the remote to her collar.

It’s gone.

My heart drops.

Slowly, a furious fire flickers up in its place.

Fuck.

FUCK.

She’s actually escaped.

18

Rozalia

He wasn’t there.

The opulent private residence at 775 Lemoine Street definitely looked like the kind of place a cowering billionaire like Leander might hide out—a sprawling, countless-acre property with three separate pyramid-like mansions dotted along a cleared-out spot in the tree-covered hills—but I searched every last inch of it, and found nothing.

Hell, there was hardly any evidence to indicate that Leander had ever been there, let alone recently. From head to toe, the place was spotless, devoid of any clues.

But when I found a secret doorway, and saw that it led into a familiar-looking sex dungeon, I knew I was at least in the right place.

Flavian wasn’t lying.

A warm tingle crosses my skin as I picture him tied to that chair, my hulking Irish lion leering over him.

I can’t get that kiss out of my mind. Who would have thought that a man like Rian could ever do something like that?

It makes him far more interesting than I ever thought he could be. More alluring. More mysterious and complicated.

I can’t get enough.

Hell, I almost regret leaving him in the lurch.

Almost.

Still, as soon as I realized Leander wasn’t at 775 Lemoine Road, I left. And quickly.

There was no chance Rian wasn’t on his way. And I didn’t like how badly I already wanted to see him again.

Clenching my fists, I make my way through the darkness, hating that I don’t know where to go looking for Leander next.

I had to get out of Flavian’s office before Rian could notice I’d taken the remote. My opportunity arose while he was fist deep in the fuckers face. All I heard was the first address. 775 Lemoine Street. Then I had to take advantage of his slip-up and fucking skedaddle.

It's too bad, I would have preferred to confront Leander myself. Now, I might not get the chance.

Up ahead, I see a row of square yellow lights softly bleeding through the darkness.

Good, she’s still up.

I desperately need someone to talk to. Someone who won’t judge me for what I’ve done, for how I truly feel.

Babcia is just the person.

Shit got too real back in Flavian’s office. The suppressed feelings I’d had for Rian momentarily exploded, scattering all across my insides before I could gather the strength to bottle them back up.