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How had it come to this? Before yesterday, I hadn’t really stopped to think about how dangerous the Moreno brothers were. I’d been focused on Division 9-C. They were the big, scary bad guys I was targeting.
I hadn’t realized how big and scary Andrés was. I hadn’t even considered him at all. I’d known Cristian was dangerous, but I’d only been peripherally aware of his little brother.
But I’d been taken from my home, captured. And given to Andrés.
I shuddered at the thought of his scarred face and hulking body, my heartbeat ticking up as panic rose. He’d return at some point soon. I’d need to be prepared, to either route my escape or reason through how I’d convince him to release me.
I took several deep, calming breaths and continued to assess my prison. Turning to my analytical brain was much easier than facing my animal emotions.
The floor-to-ceiling windows that made up one bedroom wall revealed a stunning view of the Chicago skyline. It was beautiful, but unsettling to be so high up. Even if I somehow got free from the collar, I couldn’t escape through a window. No doubt, plenty of Andrés’ men stood between the suite and the building’s exit. I hadn’t been able to fight off the single man who was holding me captive, so the prospect of facing down an unknown number of adversaries didn’t exactly sound like a good plan.
That non-plan was pointless, anyway, because I was chained to the fucking bed.
The click of the door latch disengaging made me scramble for cover. I hastily snatched up the tangled bedsheet and barely managed to clutch it to my chest before the bedroom door swung open.
A girl stood at the threshold. No, not a girl. A woman, although barely. The too-thin blonde couldn’t be more than twenty, but her dull green eyes belonged to a much older woman. If she gained a few pounds, her body would have been model-perfect, a fact which was made clear by the plunging neckline of her skintight red dress. As it was, her breastbone stood out at the center of her chest, and her cheeks were nearly as hollow as her deadened stare. There was no emotion in her eyes whatsoever. If she’d been afraid, I could have assumed she was a fellow captive here. If she’d been hopeful, maybe she might have been an ally here to rescue me. Even disdain would have indicated something useful; it would have identified her as an enemy.
But there was nothing behind her eyes. They were a lovely, forest green, framed in long, dark lashes. No matter how physically striking she may be, it was difficult to look at her.
“Who are you?” I asked, watching her warily.
“Lauren,” she replied, as though her softly-spoken name were all she had to offer in response. She hesitated in the doorway, staring at me. I shifted and pulled the sheet up to my chin.
“What do you want?” I pressed. She wasn’t attacking me, but she wasn’t helping me, either.
“He told me to bring you breakfast,” she said, finally moving. She half-turned and directed a small cart into the bedroom. It looked like fancy room service, only, this wasn’t a luxury hotel, and Lauren wasn’t dressed for the service industry.
“Who is he?” I had a good idea whom she meant, but I needed to know the person responsible for sending the food. I doubted Andrés would poison me. He’d been very clear that he wanted to keep me. But I wasn’t at all certain of Cristian’s intentions.
She finished pushing the cart up to the edge of the bed, but I didn’t move toward the food, even though I could smell the delicious scent of bacon.
“Master Andrés,” she explained in the same deadpan voice.
My hand shot out, and I gripped her wrist hard. “So you’re captive here, too,” I said quickly. She must be, if Andrés had broken her and forced her to call him Master. Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted from me?
“Help me,” I urged, tugging at the chain that bound me to the bed. “Do you know where he keeps the keys? They’re probably in that drawer.” I nodded in the direction of the piece of furniture that held the literal keys to my freedom. “I’m a federal agent. If you get this collar off me, I can get us both out of here.”
She blinked at me, then tugged her wrist free from my desperate grip.
“There’s no way out,” she said flatly.
“Of course there’s a way out,” I tried to reason with her. “How do we leave this suite? How many men are guarding the building? You know what, scratch that,” I said quickly, noting her nonplussed expression. I might have trained as a field agent, but I couldn’t get the two of us past multiple guards without a weapon. “If you could just get me a phone, I can call my friends, and they’ll come in and get us,” I hastened on.
“I can’t do that,” she said, her refusal devoid of any emotion. “I’ll get into trouble. Besides, you don’t want to leave this room. You’re safest in here.”
“What?” I spluttered, beginning to question the woman’s sanity. “You see what he’s done to me. This isn’t safe. I have to get out of here.”
“Master Andrés won’t let them dose you with Bliss and pass you around,” she said, something finally flickering in her haunted eyes. “He doesn’t like it.”
“He’s not your Master,” I said vehemently, trying to get through to her. She’d clearly been tormented, warped. If she’d been dosed with Bliss, she would have no control over her body while under the influence. She’d do anything she was told, including begging to be violated. My stomach turned at the knowledge of Andrés’ involvement in trafficking the sick drug. He was ultimately responsible for Lauren’s fractured state of mind.
“All the girls call him Master.” She shrugged. “He used to take care of us. But that was before the Bliss. He doesn’t like it,” she repeated, as though that explained everything.
I reached for her again, but she dodged back.
“Please,” I begged. “I can tell he hurt you. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Give me a phone. I just need—”
“Master Andrés didn’t hurt me,” she said with shocking fervor. “He’s nice to me. And he will be very angry with me if I help you. He told me to bring you food, and I brought it.”
