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She needed to get out of there.
She had only postponed her problems by being here. They still existed and came with an expiry date. One of life and death.
She turned onto her side and told herself not to start crying. She could handle all of it. But right now all she could do was hope her blackmailer, a real douche bag from a sleaze-fest of an online tabloid who went by the name Loaded Slayer, would keep to his word. He had given her a specific number of days to pay and now she only had a few days left to do so. She didn’t even have the money, so she had no idea what she was going to do, but her backup plan had been to talk to him and then offer him twice as much if he gave her some time.
He had taken illicit and indecent photos of her at her worst. Somehow he had had the means to rig the private yacht with secret cameras when she had attended an overnight party with her friend, Wallace Mybrook.
The dick-grade bastard had then demanded one hundred thousand dollars in exchange for the photos. That was just the tip of her crumbling iceberg. He then asked for another hundred thousand because the exposéhe had in mind would make his employer much more money in the long run.
Already in a hazardous mood, given what she had gone through a few days before, Sienna didn’t even blink an eye. She was an heiress. It was a rite of passage for there to be unflattering pictures of her splashed everywhere possible. Still, she gave him the warning that her brothers would kill him if he so much as published a picture of her naked toe.
But then the man mentioned Emily Martin, that he had been writing their story for years and now he had enough salacious images to make selling his story a huge success. But he would only get a tiny portion of it once his employer took their share. Blackmailing Sienna, he had said, was the better option for them both. He would get a shit ton of money, according to his world standards, and Sienna would be spared having her name in the news again about an accident that happened ten years ago coupled with titillating images that would embarrass her and her family.
He also said if something happened to him, or he wasn’t paid on time, the articles would be published automatically on every clickbait site available. She believed him. And she was trapped. She couldn’t go to her brothers. They would of course sort it out but she didn’t trust herself not to give herself away. Not to break down and tell them the other thing she had to do to save Emily Martin’s life. She wasn’t that strong.
Sienna had gone ice cold when he threatened to write about her history with Emily Martin. It was clear he was nothing but a sleaze bag after a story or extortion, depending on his victim. He had no idea she couldn’t care less about the pictures. But the thought of him publicizing a story about her and Emily at this time would be the thing that would pull the trigger on her life.
A few mornings before the incident with her blackmailer, she had discovered a brown unmarked envelope taped to her car when she had returned from breakfast with a few friends at a swanky restaurant.
Sienna had half a mind to throw the envelope away, but the insidious feel of it had her opening it.
There was a phone inside. She had clicked it on and immediately a call had come through, one that was answered without her having to do anything. Numbly she listened to Emily Martin, first reading from a sheet of paper while a gun was pointed to her head. Then begging for Sienna to save her.
Sienna could still feel how the blood had drained from her body that morning as if it were happening all over again. It wasn’t a prank or an empty threat. It was real and brutal, and lives were at stake.
Again, she couldn’t ask her brothers for help. One wrong move and Emily would die. She had no choice but to comply. She had thirty days to show up. Or Emily would be executed or be lost forever, she would never know which.
It was a gross lack of luck on her part that she just so happened to be the highlight of a tabloid reporter's focus at the same time. Having her relationship and her connection to Emily brought back into the public eye would be considered a wrong move. And Emily would suffer. She had to pay him and put that behind her. She had no choice.
In a matter of two weeks, her otherwise already precarious life had been turned off its axis once more.
Somewhere along the line, her thoughts had overwhelmed her and she fell asleep.
But it was hunger pangs that woke her up. When she glanced out the window, the moon shone brightly in the night sky and she thought it was safe to assume that they had all gone to bed. Which would make it safe for her to venture into the kitchen and find something to eat.
Forced to lift the track bottoms up so she could walk, she slipped into their kitchen as quietly as possible and to her relief, she found a plate covered with another plate—no cloches in sight for them—with a note that saideat thisleaning against it.
She wondered who had left the food out for her but maybe it wasn’t so hard to figure it out. It had to be Cameron. He tolerated her better, that was all.
A sandwich.
Cameron had left her a sandwich but one so thick, she could barely open her mouth wide enough to take a bite.
Instantly she knew if he were there he’d turn it into a sex joke that would clearly reference the size of his cock. Egotistical was right. But that thought didn’t stop with Cameron. Suddenly she was imagining what Rowan’s looked like and Lawson’s. And then all three of them at once.
She shook her head and told herself to stop being stupid. She needed to be able to think clearer and have her wits about her and for that she needed sustenance which just so happened to be a sandwich that was filled with the meat Lawson had cooked and shredded to fit between two slices of bread. A little sauce was added but not a vegetable in sight.
Beggars and all that.
She nibbled on the gigantic sandwich and had gotten through half of it before she had reached her fill. She drank some water then quietly went back to bed.
She fell asleep instantly. Maybe it was because she was satiated. Or maybe it was because for now, here in their house, in the bed in one of their rooms, she was safe from her demons. Maybe it was because the sting on her backside had subsided and now all she felt was a warm mellowness every time she stroked her fingers over her ass.She knew it would hurt more tomorrow.
But whenever she did that, she relived Rowan’s hands on her, his brothers’ watching and fresh wetness stemmed from her pussy lips. If the track bottoms had fitted her snugly she would have wet the fabric. Instead, her wetness slid onto her inner thighs, tempting her to touch herself. But she stuck her hands under the pillow and told herself it would be wrong, before she tumbled into a deep sleep.
Tomorrow would be a different story. She was running out of time.
Chapter Six
