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He smelled so different from Mr. Prest, who reeked of power and ruthlessness. I didn’t know what flavour those two traits had, but Mr. Prest swam in them, permeating every space he entered.
“Stop giving my slave money.” Plucking the penny from the floor, Master A clutched it tight in his fist. “In this business arrangement, I’m the one who pays you. Which I have, as you well fucking know. I transferred the full funds as per our agreement. I’ve signed the additional contract for final acceptance. Our meeting is over.”
I sucked in a breath as Master A blocked me from seeing. With his back to me, I permitted my gaze to climb, just a little.
The standoff lasted a few heavy seconds.
Instead of rising to leave, Mr. Prest reclined comfortably on the settee. The squeak of expensive leather acted as a chorus bar on the appalling music still raining. “I’m not leaving. Not yet.”
What? Does he have a death wish?
Just go!
I caught movement between Master A’s legs as Mr. Prest raised his arm, pointing at me. “What happened to her?”
“What the fuck do you mean, what happened to her?” Master A crossed his arms, not returning the penny or stepping away. “She’s none of your concern.”
I froze as Mr. Prest’s accusing finger dropped to my broken, badly bandaged hand. “How did she do that?”
An odd bubble of laughter tickled my insides.
Who cares?
Why did he insist on nettling my owner? He didn’t care about me. It was all an act to rile Master A and somehow get better terms for whatever deal they’d struck.
“She did it to herself.” Master A planted his legs wider in a threat. “Don’t worry yourself over a small accident. Worry yourself over delivering my yacht on fucking time.”
“Oh, I don’t worry about things like that.” Mr. Prest stood too, squaring off with him. “I have utmost belief that your purchase will be the best quality, highest specifications, and delivered perfectly on time.”
Master A had no retort.
“So, seeing as I guarantee to uphold my end of the bargain, how about you indulge me in a simple question?” Looking around Master A, Mr. Prest caught my gaze. “Tell me.”
Shit!
I’d looked up, forgetting myself.
The moment we made eye contact, my breath evaporated, and every vein attached to my heart popped free like a hose, spraying heated blood in scattered rivers in my chest.
“Tell me how she hurt her hand.” His jaw hardened, his eyes like onyx gemstones, far more priceless than any penny he could give. “Lie to me about why she’s black and fucking blue.”
His rage grew until his face darkened and forehead furrowed into furious lines.
He intoxicated me.
His fury was a hot blanket, reminding me briefly what it was like to be looked at with worth rather than bankruptcy.
My chin tilted higher, my mouth parted as we stared and stared.
He licked his lips as something unspoken and unrecognised arched from his body to mine. I had no choice but to let its corrupting electricity spark through my veins before shattering from my chest back to him.
The longer we watched, the thicker the connection grew until every cell hummed for something bigger than me, something stronger, scarier, safer than I’d ever been given.
Look away…
Look away!
I’d stared too long. I’d jeopardised my pain for too little.
My neck argued as I forced my eyes to drop.
It was as hard as pulling out a fingernail, but I did it.
Just in time, as Master A swivelled on the spot, glowering at me meek and behaving behind him. “Her hand? It’s nothing. Like I said, she did it to herself.”
I would never do such a thing…
“How?” Mr. Prest’s bark was sharp and snappy.
Stupid man. You’ll never get the truth. Leave before you make me slip again.
Staring at him had somehow overridden my hatred for what I’d endured, removed my blame off his shoulders, and begged him to stay.
He was the only one with unique power over Master A. What could I do to make him free me rather than destroy me?
Master A sneered. “She fell down the stairs.”
Seriously?
God, what a cliché.
I didn’t move, waiting for Mr. Prest’s follow-up question. How did she fall? What did you do? Why should I believe your lies?
Only, there were none.
Slowly, he grunted in understanding, and that was it.
Moving around the couch, Mr. Prest balled his hands. “In that case, our deal is complete.”
What? No!
How dare he prickle with questions he already knew the answers to?
Damn you. Curse you!
Leave! And never come back!
I trembled on the floor. Filling with rage so thick and violent, I bit my tongue.
Master A laughed, instantly relaxing, sensing victory while I wallowed in defeat. “Excellent.” Striding forward, he held out his hand. “You’ll get in touch in eight months once delivery can be made?”
“That’s right.” Mr. Prest accepted the handshake, his eyes carrying the weight of Hades and heaven as he looked at me, lingering on my dress-hidden body.
