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She’s like a little lamb on her way to the slaughter. She’s trying so hard to be interested in the asshole behind the bar, but she can’t keep her eyes off me. Although she’s looked at me like this every time I’ve allowed myself to get this close, this is the first time she’s seeing me. See, over the years, I’ve become a master of disguise. You don’t know it’s me unless I want you to know, and up until now, I haven’t wanted Snow to see the real me. I’ve been careful to keep my face hidden though, because that’s something she would recognize.
Not that it matters. Today is the day she becomes mine. My pretty little Snowflake. I’ve been planning for today for what feels like a lifetime, but I had to wait until my idiot father and useless uncles were out of the picture. The Saint James family doesn’t know what a favor they did for me because I couldn’t have my family’s vile tendencies near my woman. The things I’ve seen at their hands turned even my stomach, and my soul is as black as hell itself. I get satisfaction out of tearing people apart limb by limb, but the shit they liked was too sick for me, and I would never put my precious Snowflake in that kind of danger.
The bartender pours her fourth cocktail. His gaze locked on her chest rather than what he’s doing. I don’t blame him. I’ve caught myself staring at them a time or two on these little missions to get to know her. These moments I allow myself have never been enough, but it’s how I know her favorite cocktail, her favorite food, the brand of tequila she likes when she’s had a particularly rough day. All the things a computer and a private investigator could never tell me, I know everything there is to know about my little pet to ease the transition into her new life.
I’m not so blind to think it won’t be difficult for her, because it will. I’m clipping her wings and caging her in, just like she thinks her family has always done. But there will be no escaping me or my home. She won’t be able to pull the same escape routines that have allowed me to follow her the way I have. At first, she’ll think she’s a prisoner, but she’ll come to see it’s for her own good and that everything I do, I do with her best interest in mind.
“I finish in ten. Do you want to get out of here?”
Snow nods, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. The image she portrays in public dropping into place. The mask is firmly fitted most of the time, but there are moments when the real Snow slips out, and I’m mesmerized by the woman no one else knows.
The bartender sends her a sly smile and turns to cross to the people who have just sat at the opposite end of the bar.
Snow lets out a breath and picks her glass up, swishing the pink liquid around a few times before bringing the rim to her lips.
I’ll never get sick of watching her mouth. It’s one of the first things that ever drew me in. The perfect little pout her lips form, the beauty that lights up her face when they tip into a smile, the image I’ve concocted in my mind of what they’ll look like wrapped around my cock. That’s the picture that has me wrapping my fist around my dick late at night.
My little Snowflake doesn’t realize she’s being led into a trap, one I carefully set for her. She doesn’t know that leaving with that bartender will be the last free decision she makes.
I check my watch and fidget in my seat. The longer we sit here, the higher chance her brothers are going to realize she’s gone and send someone to retrieve her. We’ve done this same routine so many times I’m surprised they haven’t been able to keep her under control, but she won’t be free for much longer.
The moment the bartender starts moving toward the opening at the other end of the bar, I’m out of my seat and heading for the door. Everything that’s about to happen needs to do so seamlessly, starting with me being in position. I give her one last glance over my shoulder as I push the door open and find a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
Time to come home, little Snowflake.
3
Snow
As I step out of the bar with the bartender who I haven’t bothered to ask his name, a shiver of question runs through my bones. I’ve done this a thousand times, gone home with random men, and then had my brothers knocking on their front door looking for me, but this time feels different.
His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me tight against him. His body towers over mine, and for the first time in all the years I’ve been running away from my security team, I think I’ve made a mistake. I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly feels off, but there’s something in the air that makes it hard to suck in a breath.
I look up at him and, for the first time, really see him. His cheekbones are high and pronounced, his jaw sharp and covered in the shadow of the day, but it’s his eyes that have my heart skipping a beat, and not in a good way. It’s the nervousness I don’t expect to see, the way his gaze shoots from side to side as he walks us through the parking lot toward his car.
It’s a trap.
My step falters, fear pushing through my carefully crafted exterior, but I can’t allow him to realize I’m onto him, not if I want to get out of here safely. The phone in my pocket has been constantly vibrating for the last half hour. Surely someone will be coming for me soon. But they’ve never taken this long before. Usually, the calls start and fifteen minutes later, someone is collecting me. The only exception is when I’m in someone’s apartment, and the team sends my brothers in to do their dirty work.
“Are you okay?” his deep voice rumbles.
I nod, steeling myself to reply. “Yeah, I just tripped.” The lie rolls off my tongue so easily it should concern me, but if lying is the only way to get out of the mess I suspect I’ve made for myself, I’m going to lie through my fucking teeth.
He watches me for another second and then looks up toward the cars parked a few feet away. If I had to put money on which of the cars I’m about to get in, it would be the old beat-up white Honda. Beside it is a high-end Mercedes, too nice for this side of town. The matte black stands out in the dim parking lot, the surrounding buildings blocking any sunlight.
I take a deep breath and stop. “Oh shoot. I left my favorite lipstick in the bathroom.” The pitch of my voice irritates me, but I learned a long time ago that the more stupid you can make yourself sound, the more the people around you will underestimate you, and that’s exactly what I need right now.
“Leave it. I’ll pick it up next time I’m in for you,” he says dismissively as he tugs me forward roughly.
“You don’t understand,” I whine. “They discontinued this color, and it’s my absolute favorite. If I lost it, I just don’t know what I would do.” I’m laying it on thick, hoping he’ll think I’m the dumb blonde of the Saint James family, just like the rest of Chicago.
When his eyes turn down on me, there’s nothing but annoyance behind the green I found so endearing earlier. This isn’t a man interested in getting his dick wet, he’s a man who has other plans,darkerplans. “Listen here, you little—”
Before he can finish his insult, my hand wraps around the pepper spray in my bag, and I pull it out, spraying it straight into his eyes. As soon as he drops his grip on me and his hands fly to his face, I take off at a run. I’m not in the best outfit to be running away from an attacker, jeans, five-inch heels, and a knit sweater, but I’ll have to make do with what I have.
The bartender’s grunts of pain get farther and farther away the more I run, which gives me hope he’s not following me. I just have to find a cab and get back to the estate, or at the very least, to Frost Industries. At least there I could find some security and maybe one of my siblings or Everett to take me home.
I chance a glance behind me and let out a breath when the bartender is still doubled over by his car, but before I can turn back around to watch where I’m going, I slam straight into a hard body.
