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He wants to see me. I don’t know why. Has something happened? I gulp at the thought.
Walking through the luxurious home, I pay no attention to the riches because this wealth is merely a reminder of everything I need but will never have unless I do something so deplorable, I’ll question my morals forever.
I’m already halfway there, however.
I’m sore, thanks to Punky giving me the best orgasm of my life before throwing me out like some common whore. I clench my fists just thinking about that son of a bitch. How dare he.
This shouldn’t be personal, but it suddenly feels like it is. I’m in way over my head.
Puck Kelly has gotten under my skin. I should have been more careful, but I never expected to feel…this connection to him. But after last night, that connection has been severed because I will not be treated like a whore.
However, when I knock onhisoffice door, I know that this choice isn’t mine anymore. I’m here to serve a purpose. He permits me admission, and I enter, head bowed; just as he commanded I do.
I don’t take a seat. I know better. Someone like me isn’t fit to sit before someone like him. I smell his trademark pine cologne underneath the cigar smoke. It makes me want to gag. I wait for him to address me, but he draws it out. It’s all just a powerplay, but I can never forget who’s in charge.
“Bout ye?” he asks as if I’m here because I want to be.
“Fine,” I reply, keeping my answer short.
“Did ya find anythin’ out?”
Measuring my breathing, I nod. “Yes, he asked about a house in Moville. I gave him what I found at Mr. Duffy’s.”
“Aye, good, love. What else?”
“His face was painted.” My body still tingles at the memory of finding him that way. He looked so frighteningly hot.
Silence.
“He had three red lines down the middle of his forehead. They signify the lives he’s going to take.”
“And he knows who they are?”
“Yes. He didn’t tell me who.”
He claps loudly, clearly happy with the update. “And his father was the one who beat him up?”
Nodding, I swallow down my disgust at the thought.
“Well done. What else?”
I know what he wants me to tell him—that I seduced Punky into telling me all his secrets—but he doesn’t know Punky. And he doesn’t know me.
“I’ve got photos of all the files you wanted,” I reveal, which is not the information he wanted, but it’ll do—for now.
“Nice one. I want ya to keep at it, though. I need ya to break him.”
Tears well, because I don’t want that. I never wanted any of this. But that’s why I’m here. Puck thinks he’s a monster, but monsters come in all different shapes and sizes. His mask last night was a reflection of who he thinks he is.
What happens if he saw mine?
“He’s not easily broken,” I counter softly. “It’s going to take a lot more than—”
When I hear the leather of his chair creak, indicating he’s risen, I seal my lips, terrified. I shouldn’t have contradicted him. But I can’t stand this.
The plush carpet announces his arrival, and when he lifts my chin with his finger, my mask, the one I’ve tried so hard to master, slips into place. He examines my face, but I can’t read what’s going on behind those steel gray eyes. His mask is rock-solid.
“Try harder,” he calmly says—but make no mistake, this is a warning. “Ya know what happens if ya don’t?”
