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And then once she was drifting and sweet from her orgasm, I would push her on the bed on her back and fuck her until she cried my name. Then I’d ask her to be mine. Mine to keep. Mine to hold, love, and cherish. For real. No pretense. No auction. No other men in her future. I wanted her to just be mine and mine alone. It was sudden, I know. But that’s what I wanted from her. That’s what I planned.
And the thing is, I didn’t care what my contract with the Billionaires Club said. Fuck those obligations. But out of the blue, the bald muscle head knocked hard on the door of my suite and when I opened it, shoved a note in my hand.
He’s here for the girl. Don’t fight, brother, or you’ll lose all that you’ve worked for.
There was no signature but I didn’t need one to know who sent it. Stunned, I froze like a fucking deer in the headlights, the scrap of paper clenched in my fist.
How did they find out? Did I give the game away somehow? What the hell was I going to do now?
And in the end, I didn’t do a damn thing. The guy barreled into the bathroom before I could say a word, dragged out a kicking and screaming Trina. If he’d retaliated somehow, hit her or hurt her, I would’ve lost my shit. But he too smart for that, and it didn’t take him long. In minutes, he had her outside the suite, the slam of the door banging like a cannon.
And me? I stood there like a fucking loser the entire time, witnessing Trina’s pain, shame, and humiliation. I didn’t lift a damn finger as the words from the note resounded in my ears. And by the time I came to my senses, it was too late. When I tried to open the door and run after them, it was locked. I was trapped. Those fuckers locked me in my own suite. They ambushed us, using the advantage of surprise, and rained fire and brimstone as I stood there like a dumb cow.
My hands clench again, a pulsing motion that only makes the pain worse. More blood seeps down my hand and hits the floor. But this isn’t even half of what I deserve. Trina is going through much worse right now. She’s scared. She’s angry. She’s all alone without anybody to help her.
Even worse, I’m not there to protect her. I’m fucking trapped in this luxurious suite like a prisoner prince, living in a fucking nightmare.
How did we get to this point? I curse savagely, blood dripping down my fist once more.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. One rap of strong knuckles against the wood and then it opens with a snick.
Costas Rhodes stands in the doorway of my room, a sneer on his stubbled face, his cold green eyes flickering around the room, surveying it. Under the bright lights of my suite, his white-blond hair gleams like snow.
“Knight.” His voice is cold and mocking. “I thought I’d walk in on you jerking off while moaning her name.” He looks almost disappointed, his full lips pressed into a tight line. “And don’t deny you fucked her. If half of what Marian said is true, you’ve already fucked all three of her holes at least twice. I know what a horny bastard you are.”
Costas Rhodes is one of the Billionaires Club’s founding members. He looks like an elf prince with his snow white hair and ice green eyes. But there’s nothing elfin about him. The dude’s not filled with magic and grace. Instead he’s got a cunning mind and nasty smile.
Still sneering, he saunters into the room, a silver lighter in his hand. His black, pin-striped suit is custom-tailored to his lean shape and makes him look like a lion prowling in its den.
But this is my suite. My territory. No fucking way am I gonna let some other guy act like he owns this place. I may be stuck here, powerless, while my woman’s been dragged off to god knows where, but I’m a boss. I’m one of the billionaires.
Because yeah, I fucked up, but none of these guys are gonna treat me like they’re better than me somehow. I stand up straight, hands in my pockets, and confront him with my own cold stare.
“What do you want?” I growl, trying not to let my anger show. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Costas idly flicks the lighter on, then off. The flame flaring then dying at his will. “I want you to be honorable. I want you to abide by the rules. Rules that you agreed upon when you joined.” The smile he flashes is all teeth and no warmth. “But since that horse is long gone from the barn, I just need to see that you at least know what hell you did wrong.” He flicks the lighter again. Flame. No flame. “You at least admit you fucked up, right? That you screwed the club with no remorse?”
