“I believe your father once owed me a debt,” he said with a smirk. “He gave you to me as a payment. Unfortunately, Prometheus stole you away, as he did with so much of my property. But don’t worry, I plan to make him pay. Then I’ll put you back to work in one of my brothels so you can pay off the debt your father owed me, as you should have done long ago. You’re a bit old now, but there are always men who aren’t that picky. I’m sure I can get a few years out of you, at least.”
She’d thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, but now, she knew she’d been woefully naïve.
Chapter Seventeen
As Morgan and his brothersapproached Winters’ warehouse, he couldn’t help the anxiety that clawed its way up his gut. Just a little over a year ago, he’d experienced one of the worst days of his life in this same spot, and he couldn’t believe they were here yet again, that Winters had yet another woman whom he loved at his mercy, and that he was once again having to do battle with this monster who had made their lives miserable since they were children.
Seeming to read his thoughts, Adrian put his hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn and look at him. “I should have killed him the last time,” he said fiercely. “I’m so sorry that it’s come to this.”
Morgan laughed bitterly. “It’s not your fault. You did what you had to do that day. You saved Vanessa. As for the rest of it, I suppose we all should have gone after him the moment we heard he was back in town. I just never thought he’d do this again, certainly not so quickly.”
Luke shook his head. “None of us did. But it doesn’t matter now. This is the situation we find ourselves in, and we just have to make sure he doesn’t get away this time.”
From where they stood at the end of the street, the building looked completely abandoned, but none of them was fool enough to believe that Roger’s men weren’t lying in wait somewhere, knowing they would soon show themselves.
Morgan turned to Max, the boy they’d found a few blocks away. He was an enterprising young man of about twelve, with a shock of white-blond hair and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He’d been more than willing to take on this job for the exorbitant sum they were paying him, and he was street-savvy enough to know the risks. “Here’s the note. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Max nodded, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”
“All right, then. Here you go. But remember, we don’t want you getting hurt. If things seem at all dicey, you run out of there as quickly as you can.” Morgan pressed the note into the boy’s grubby hand, still a bit nervous about whether his plan would work.
“I’ll be out quick as a flash,” Max promised.
As Morgan and his brothers watched Max run down to the warehouse, he prayed that this would go the way they wanted it to and that Fiona was still alive and well. He couldn’t bear to lose her, too.
* * *
AS THE DAY STRETCHEDon, Fiona grew more and more uncomfortable. Winters had spent the morning threatening her and then cajoling her, doing everything in his power to get her to tell him which of the Strathmores was Prometheus. He still didn’t believe that she’d actually been playing the part herself and seemed to think the brothers had simply dressed her up and sent her into danger to take the fall for them.
She’d wanted to yell that if he thought that, he had no idea of his stepbrothers’ true characters, but she’d managed to stay silent, refusing to answer even the simplest question.
But as the hours passed, she could no longer avoid the call of nature, and she finally had to break down and ask to relieve herself. She’d been humiliated when he’d sent one of his henchmen with her. However, the man had brought down a chamber pot and been kind enough to turn his back. While taking care of business, she’d managed to take the knife out of her boot and transfer it to her shirt sleeve. Thankfully, the thug hadn’t noticed it when he tied her back to the chair, and he’d even taken pity on her and loosened the ropes slightly. Still, even with the knife so close at hand, she had no idea how she was going to get out of this.
She feared that the moment she tried to work the knife from her sleeve to her hand, it would either fall to the floor and her chance would be lost or that Winters would return and catch her in the middle of her attempted escape.
For twenty minutes or so now, she’d been struggling with the risks of chancing it versus the dangers ofnottrying to free herself. In the end, she decided to try it. She’d rather go down fighting than just let him do whatever he pleased to her. She still greatly feared that he intended for her to die anyway, so what did she really have to lose?
