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three
Alec
I’ve studied the house next door and everything I could find out about Donald Jameson for a week straight. The security is tight as a motherfucker over there, and I finally realize the only way I’m going to get in is to pretend to want to go into business with the old man.
That’s why I’m now sitting in Donald Jameson's study, trying to remain cool and composed. It seems that Donald is one of those men with his hands in everything. He can't get enough and is always willing to branch out. My portfolio was sufficiently impressive to get me a meeting with him.
To get me inside his house.
Where his daughter is locked up upstairs.
I’ve sat with her every night this week. She sits in her window, and I sit on my balcony, and we just stare at each other, communicating with our eyes. The smile that lights up her face and melts the caramels of her eyes tells me just how grateful she is to have my company, as silent as it is.
My heart breaks for the girl, imagining her so alone that simply having a man sit outside on his balcony and stare at her can make her so happy.
I’ve considered climbing up the fucking wall and smashing in her window to break her free, but Jameson has too many cameras for that.
I’d be shot in a second.
So, despite every cell in my body screaming at me to run up there, knock down her door, and whisk her away from here, the rational part of my brain is telling me that's not a good idea. That this is going to be much more difficult than simply taking her.
Donald has her locked away for a reason, and I'm starting to figure out why.
So far, he's casually asked me if I'm married or dating. Once he discovered I wasn't, he subtly mentioned his daughter, turning his body slightly to allow me to see the picture of her all dolled up in a white dress looking pure and sweet and virginal.
"She's a good girl," he drawls. "Sweet and obedient. Innocent." He pauses over the last word, glancing at me knowingly.
I keep my expression apathetic, giving nothing away. "Is that so?" He studies me for a moment longer, trying to get a read on me, no doubt.
I give him nothing. I'd hate myself forever if I objectified Addison that way, but I can't show my derision outright and spook him. So, I play the indomitable businessman. Detached yet not disinterested.
The man couldn't be more obvious if he came right out and said it. He's bartering his daughter like a bargaining chip. Using her to further his business endeavors. And I'm practically seething as I wonder how many other fuckers he's made these insinuations to.
"How can you ensure her innocence?" I hate myself for the question, but I have to give him something. I need to know for certain what he's got going on here.
His eyes light up at my interest. "Trust me, she is. The girl hasn't been out of her room since she was fourteen. She's pure."
I run a thumb along my lip thoughtfully and raise an eyebrow at him. "So, you just locked her up in her room for…how old is she now?"
"Eighteen," he assures me before he chuckles to himself. "And consider it a modern-day chastity belt. It wasn't that hard. She's an amicable girl, my daughter. Submissive, obedient, willing to please."
The way he refers to his own daughter so callously has me clenching my fists, but I force myself to relax.
"When can I meet her?" I try to keep my voice impassive like it's no big deal to me either way.
Donald has an unsettling twinkle in his eye. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, my boy. I have plenty of other business associates interested in her, too." He chuckles to himself again. I want to punch the fucker's lights out.
Calm, I tell myself. Stay calm. You can't help her if you're dead or in jail.
Oh, yes, I already know from my research that this fucker has the local police force deep in his pockets. There won't be any 911 calls to get Addison freed. This man is more crooked than I ever anticipated.
Therefore, I have to be patient and go about this the smart way.
I shrug like his daughter is no big deal to me, and I see a moment of panic flare in the old man's eyes. Yes, I've also done some digging on his other business associates, and I know I'm the one packing the most potential. Jameson knows it, too. He's playing hard to get, but he already knows he wants my business—at whatever cost, even at the cost of his own flesh and blood.
"However, I'm planning a dinner party this weekend with all my associates," he rushes to divulge. "Addison will be the guest of honor. Everyone will have a chance to meet her."
"And, let me guess, whoever offers you the best deal gets her?" I ask him, my voice level.
